T.R. Lemke

It is a cheap, rickety,teetering, piled wasteland of bills, documents, scribbled on scraps of paper, post it notes, and other random bits of office detritus. There is also a pretty quartzite rock and a small screwdriver that somehow arrived here from who knows where. It is loosely organized by the geologic method, meaning that the most recent activities/documents are most likely on top. At times there have been some upheavals (document avalanches, whiskey spills, etc.), so this is not a hard and fast truth. But whatever I'm looking for, it's in there somewhere. Sadly, I'm not joking.

I chew on my writing. A lot. I drive an unfortunate amount of time to and from work and other more fortunate activities. As i'm in the truck, a song will come on, and for some reason, a scene pops into my head. it grows slowly, over long commutes until it's pretty fleshed out. Once it gets too big, i have to write it down, ASAP or else it feels like i'm going to lose it. I've written on napkins in my truck, paper plates, emailed myself (in a parking lot, I'm not a terrible person!). I can't count the times I've still been writing at 1-2 a.m. , exhausted and dreading the morning, but I just have to keep going or else it's gone.
After I accrue enough of those scenes, I start connecting the dots. Not a huge outliner unfortunately. I'm just not that organized.