Beside my bed, on a neat mahogany table, there are three things: a book, a notebook (one of those old-school paper ones, not OneNote or anything), and a pen.
Just before Morpheus drags me into the dark pit of dreams, I fill myself with a regular dose of literature.
Usually it’s around 9 or 10 PM, so I’ve been up and about for some 17,5 hours. By that time, my organism sends me straightforward signs, demanding I go to sleep.
For health reasons, I spend the last sixty minutes before closing my eyes without looking at any digital displays, or at least I try to.
Once I lay in my bed, feeling all cozy and warm, the last thing I’d like to do is to have to get out of it again. It happens to be so, that some ideas strike right before I nod off.
Some of those ideas are brilliant, or at least they seem to be at the first glimpse. Whether they’ll turn out to be remarkable once implemented or not doesn’t matter; they’re all noteworthy.
Gathering your own concepts, regardless if they seem strange or even stupid, is the prerequisite of the process.
You may be wondering what’s on my mind when I say ‘stupid’. Let me give you an example.
Among other random thoughts, you’d be able to see one note: astronaut pope.
The idea in itself is irrational, devoid of meaning and, you guessed it, stupid.
Yet, based upon these two words, a broader concept developed, with a universe of its own, distinct characters and a gripping plot line.
Hence, I began working on a post-apocalyptic short story based on the idea of the biblical Apocalypse set in an Orwellian future, with moral conundrums of senile pope Evaristus II in the middle of a decrepit world torn by war and nuclear bombings.
How cool is that!? Losing this idea forever would be a pity, wouldn’t it?
As a compromise between the primitive part demanding rest and the creative bit, the notebook is always there by my side, allowing me to capture those momentary visions without leaving my bed.
Two birds with one stone.