Playing Cards

For reasons unknown, numerous decks of playing cards occupy various drawers and cubbyholes in my office and home. A blue and a red Bicycle deck, a special Svengali deck, one from Sea World, one from Sydney, two from Hawaii, a fancy red and a fancy blue deck in a fancy wooden box. There's a deck for use specifically with a Chess set, and another deck that's got five suits instead of four.

Apparently, I keep intending to write a story involving one of the cards. Maybe two, but certainly not the whole deck--at least, not right away. Must be gestating, that one, awaiting its perfect opportunity. That's how it happens, you realize: the random thoughts and ideas bounce around (and collide) within the head until they manage to funnel out through the fingertips, and voila! Instant Novel! Only 10+ years in the making.

(In fact, I think it's safe to say that all novels, whatever your age when you write them, are that many years, plus the +, in the making.)