Here I was, innocently cruising through Tumblr, when someone reposts a list of four word writing prompts. The four words are all lines of dialogue. Intrigued, I tell myself, "Self, if you're ever stuck for ideas on how to start a story, here's a list."
Self replies, "I've got a better idea. Why don't you write fic, original or fanfic, to go with each of the prompts?"
I eyeroll and say, "You missed the part where I said If. If you're ever stuck. You're never stuck for ideas. You just suck at finishing them because you see a new shiny thing and flit off like a fucking magpie."
Self, whom I'm pretty sure is an asshole, snorts and says, "Ok, fine, but you can't just let this list go. How about a compromise? Whenever you have 15-20 minutes of free time, you sit down and write the story idea for the prompt, and then leave it alone? Tuck it in a folder for later, or post it somewhere and forget about it. How does that sound?"
I start to protest, only to realize, hey, that's not a bad idea. "Huh. Well, I've got 15 minutes now, so why don't I start with... prompt number one."
Anyway, 600 words later, I stop typing and have a sinking sensation of dread in my stomach. I might suck at finishing stories, but I also suck at letting them go, because I want to Write All The Things and turn them into big stories. Why do I fucking listen to myself?
In case you're wondering who to blame for this disaster, well. I'm not saying it's fuckyeah's fault, but it's fuckyeah's fault. It was their Tumblr.