I watched a movie today and realized the plot wasn’t anything new or original. The plot was threadbare and worn, the characters could be found in any neighborhood Goodwill store, and the jokes were copied straight out of a joke book–and one full of puns, too. It’s not that it was a bad movie, it’s just that it wasn’t original. They told the same old story in a new and somewhat interesting way. They found a creative angle and rehashed the same old same old. Throw in a few nods to other movies in your genre and you’ve got yourself a film. If that’s all it takes, I could become a movie writer. Or so I told myself as I sat there in the dark listening to old women laugh.

This morning (okay, it was really this afternoon) while I was in the shower I came up with an interesting idea for a horror story. Of course it isn’t really a horror story and I usually don’t write those, but that’s okay. That’s what people would think it is, so you just have to go with it. Sometimes I wonder why my imagination is so overactive, and other times I’m thankful it is. I just wish it would be book-size overactive.

Today is July 4. As I write this fireworks are exploding to celebrate the independence of our country. Sometimes I wonder if we not only gained our independence from the British but from each other as well.