As the year winds down, I wrestle with a science fiction short story I started writing on a whim. Two words popped into my head, and I thought it would be fun to write a spontaneous story around them. It was fun at first. Then it became somewhat interesting. At that point I started losing interest and sort of tried to ignore it. Note to self:  Ignoring a story is like the proverbial red cape fluttering anywhere in a bull’s field of vision. Said story immediately paws the ground, raises a cloud of impossible to ignore dust…and charges.

I tend to think of my writer’s brain as an autonomous corner of my regular, everyday brain. The autonomous corner awakens from a half alert doze upon the slightest provocation, shoves the sprawling ponderings of movies, music, and the latest irresistible ice cream flavor back into their proper places. It then proceeds to go about its devious plotting. 

At the moment it’s still plotting away. Those two words that inspired what I thought would be a simple story have tangented themselves into a complex existential exploration of the nature of humanity, and what similarities and differences may lie along the bridge between naturally born people, those grown in an artificial environment, and entirely artificial intelligence.

Sometimes, when I look as if I’m doing nothing connected with writing at all, I’m actually working on something complex that takes time and thought and staring into space. Good thing I have that autonomous brain corner to do the heavy lifting, while the rest of me is busy with holiday stuff.

Hopefully, it’ll be ready to be finished soon. Having it make the leap from brain to fingertips to computer screen would be a great way to start the new year.

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