Writing, Wrestling and the English Professor

Writing is like wrestling in the WWF...there is me and there is the idea. In this case, it's the ideas...as in plural. It's not that I have trouble writing, it's that I have trouble deciding which of my many ideas to pursue. So I wrestle...it's exhausting. I focus on one idea and as I am about to "pin it" down...along comes another idea to hit me over the head with a folding chair. They tag team eachother...my ideas. "Let me at her!", they scream. They have interesting names like the "Punctuation Punisher" and the "Idea Suckinator". Meanwhile, I'm running around fending them off and trying to pin the one that will help me win the match. So far, I'm losing.

As if that isn't bad enough, there is "The Professor". The Professor is my inner critic and she's (because women are far better at criticizing) an elitist, snobby, English professor from Oxford, England, who looks over her glasses and down her nose as she proclaims my work as "trash".

I'd give up but I'm just too stubborn. Besides, I still think I can win. Maybe I'll invite "The Professor" to a wrestling match.