COLUMN: Don’t Mind the Mess – All the columns I’ll never write

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 20/04/2021 (1487 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

In every columnist’s secret cache of ideas, hidden deep beneath the squishy folds of our brains where little sparks of inspiration lie waiting to be ignited and cool opening lines are stored for safekeeping, there are thoughts and topics we know we’ll never share.

At least, not in a column.

Not because they’re sordid or racy or even particularly revealing. And not even because we’re scared they’ll offend somebody.

I horde them because these are the ideas I hope will one day become The Book. My Great Achievement. That pearl of wisdom and giver of royalty cheques all writers dream of.

Among that file of stored topics might be the one idea that I can stretch from a 600-word column into a 200-page novel.

I see myself giving up my day job and spending year-long sabbaticals in remote mountain retreats, spinning out stories the whole world wants to buy.

Maybe I’ll even become a little eccentric (okay, more eccentric), finding myself only able to write on rainy days, or only feeling inspired while wearing a certain shirt or eating a certain type of chocolate bar. Maybe it will take an hour in the hot tub before my muses finally kick in.

But it won’t matter how strange and reclusive I become. I’ll be famous and rich and the world will allow for a few character flaws, as long as I keep pumping out books.

Even my personal chef and groundskeeper will tolerate my idiosyncrasies. After all, my books will pay for their ridiculously high, but very well-earned salaries.

Think a little harder and there I am, seated on Oprah’s gleaming white couch. She’s asking where I get all my ideas. (The eternal question every writer faces from time to time but doesn’t have a hot clue how to answer.) The audience hangs on my every word. If Oprah says I’m good, I must be good. She’s waiting for a profound, thought-provoking response. Something to give her that “Ah ha!” moment, as she calls it.

“Hmm. Where do I get my ideas?” I ponder out loud.

And then, just like that, I start jumping up and down on the pristine couch, just like Tom Cruise once did. The audience eats it up. They’re on their feet, applauding, cheering, raving! Oh, that crazy writer lady! Is there no end to her hilarity? Oprah is clapping! I must be good!

I guess it doesn’t hurt to visualize it. Anthony Robbins says that’s the biggest part of the journey to success. Seeing it all work out in your mind.

But here, on a Tuesday morning with another deadline is looming, it’s tough to put a great idea in the “My Book” file. Here, with bed hair and stale coffee and a full workday ahead of me, it’s tough not to throw that fresh, glistening thought onto the computer screen.

Why save it? There might be another deep thought waiting somewhere in the future. After all, the book file is already loaded with fragmented thoughts and chapters that never got past page one. Do I anticipate some big writer’s block? Do I see myself completely running out of ideas one day, after the kids have all moved on and the only thing I have to inspire me is my aging, over-fed cat?

Yeah. I’m guessing that might be it. I wonder if Oprah likes cats?