The One That Got Away

We own several fishing poles, and even though we have lived in some popular fishing areas, fishing has not become a high priority in our family. Partly, I guess, because I am the only one who enjoys eating fish.


My problem, though not directly related to fishing, borrows from the sport. "Yea, but you should have seen the one that got away! That fish was this big!"

What I "fish" for, is ideas.  Ideas float around in my mind while I'm washing dishes, watering the garden, going for a walk, attempting to sleep, even while I'm writing something else--anytime. If I don't jot down the phrase, the concept, the thought, the character immediately, it is gone forever. Sometimes I'll create an entire scene, sure that I'll remember it later because it is so clear and vivid. Later, with paper and pen in hand, I cannot for anything even come up with a clue for what it was about. Frustrating.

Wish I had a fraction of the ideas that swam by my boat, just below the surface, taunting me with a flicker of the tail, lingering just long enough to give me a glimpse, but not to catch it.