At least I do in my head. Sentences, paragraphs, chapters, stories.
But it never materializes.
I've written 916 posts on this blog. There are at least another hundred that you've never seen - ones I've abandoned, rejected, or forgotten about it. (They languish in that limbo known as "draft," never to be heard from again.)
Some of my posts stink on ice, some are decent, some are just rants or links to better writers or musicians or random stuff, and a handful are fairly decent. Around 100-150 folks come here most days. I've never done anything in particular to increase readership. Sometimes I get picked up by DC Blogs, which is nice. Once I got picked up by Wonkette, and another time by USA Today. I'm not exactly A-list material, let's face it.
A lot of my best stories haven't been told yet. I've held them back thinking that someday I would seriously sit down and put the words together in a collection. And I've wondered for a long time, if I actually wrote that book, would anyone read it?
Well, I guess I'll find out. I'm going to start writing that book. I have stories about Moscow and Cairo and Bangkok and Tashkent... It's time to see if I can seriously produce something for people to read, or if I'm just a online piker with the attention span of a gnat.
Public commitment made. Well, a commitment made to 4.5 regular readers, that is, and 120 guys searching Google for boobies, dog condoms, and cannibalism.
Here goes nuthin'...