Grist for the Mill

In truth, my writing mill needs a more powerful river to run its water wheel, not more stuff to grind up, but I don’t know a quaint expression for that.

I’ve started a new project and produced a few pages of notes so far. There is much I need to learn about my characters and their adventures. I don’t know yet what has happened to make them the way they are or how they will change during their time with me*.

I’m also helping distribute concert uniforms to the high school band. The guys wear tuxedos, and unfortunately the size labels in the pants have worn away with time. Imagine a cramped hallway filled with young men, stripped to their boxers, trying on tuxedo pants. Grist for the mill.


* I’m trying to work in water under the bridge and you can’t step in the same river twice, but perhaps I’ve ground up this metaphor.