Sometimes I see, hear, or read things that cause a strange sensation in my brain. It’s like an itch, or a prickle, a premonition, a flutter. I often think of it as a “nibble,” like a fish rising to take the bait. It’s an idea swimming up from the depths of my mind. Whether it’s an idea for a story, post, or poem, or for a piece of music or art, it’s always exciting.
There’s so much potential in a nibble, but a nibble is not a catch. A nibble is just an invitation to the struggle. It means there’s work to be done. Landing a fish takes time, finesse, and luck. It might get away, or I might catch it only to find that it’s too small to keep. Every once in a while, I catch one worth showing off and bragging over. But I can’t know which it will be until I’ve pulled it out of the water.
The problem is, and always will be, that it’s easier to dream about all the fish swimming in the sea, and to romanticize the ones that got away, than it is to do the work of reeling one in.