Quinn the Eskimo

The song “Quinn the Eskimo” has been running through my head all day. What can I do when that happens? I have four choices.

1 Sing it out as loud as I can

2 Ignore it

3 Go nuts or

4 Write all about it until it gets tired of me.

I’m a writer, so you know which one I choose. How am I going to write Quinn the Eskimo into a story of a magical tree? Well, why do you think my MC is hearing the tree talk to him and picking a fight with it? Maybe the tree is Quinn. Nah. The tree already has a name. Maybe Quinn the Eskimo will come around offering Frank some relief. Maybe he will hear Quinn talking to him on TV.

There are lots of ways I could go. In this case, the thought of what I could do with him released him from my mind. I didn’t even have to put it on paper. Ah, the joys of a good fantasy. I needed the release.

It wouldn’t have stuck in my storyline anyway. This is the third time I have written the story and I want to get it finished before going off in another direction entirely. That could be another story.

Isn’t it amazing how we can come up with half a dozen story ideas while writing one piece and have a block as soon as we sit down to do them later. I have at least 1,000 ideas that haven’t gone anywhere. They might make a cameo in another story, but they crawl back into a hole and hide until I quit looking for them and move on to the next idea.

I think I hear my MC calling. He is getting tired of holding his dog while standing, with a broken foot, next to a tractor he is about to do the haying with. This should be fun.

Hold on, Frankie, I’m coming!

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