and for dinner ... rice and lentils ...

You are all in my novel. The question is, which one.

My life as a novel. My brain is always working.

The guy at the Old Navy counter and the girl at the Coffee Shop at the Pride Center ... they are in some kind of secret, twisted relationship that only they understand. The dog and the cat talk to each other. The world spins and turns and the sun sets in lavender and blue over the edge of the lake and I want to stop my car and write it because a young kid just got drafted to the team of his dreams and he is staring out at this lake in his new home and full of dreams all the while thinking of the father who died when he was 12 and how that father can't be here to celebrate this moment.

Marshall and Mary discussing Marshall's alien abduction. Dana and Fox discussing William. Alex and Olivia discussing children and marriage and love and joy and law and pain.

These stories all in my mind, all at once. Some make it to paper some dance through my subconscious, coming up in dreams. Others emerge into character blogs. The stories of others rest on my heart and I want to tell them, to write them into forever, to make sure that the stories are remembered. Forever.

So the question is ... which story will keep me up tonight?