I still want to write that modern-day adaptation of a classic novel that I still haven't read yet, the road trip novel I've mentioned before. It lets me indulge in pinball, learning more about the machines themselves, the work that went into them, and especially the themes of the machines themselves. But then, I haven't read that classic novel yet. Perhaps I'm not ready for that one.
I still want to write that time travel novel I've been thinking about. I am excited about reading all those time travel novels to see how time travel has been done before, but Star Trek novels interest me more right now. I'll file it away for now and come back to it hopefully not too far from now.
Tonight, I found the novel I really want to write. It involves an artist with what I think is an unusual interest. He draws inspiration from what we simply pass by every day, not thinking anything of it. I don't know what he wants, what would be the reason for this novel, but it can only be a novel. Maybe I'd find someone like this, and if I do, I'd interview them as research, as inspiration. But it's fictional. And I know that it can't be a play. Only a novel.
I'm really excited about this. I've planned out the other two novels and I'm sure I'll eventually plan out this one, but I'm just going along with whoever this character is. I only thought of this character yesterday, and tonight, I figured out that he uses his interest for his art. It came to me while I was rolling the garbage and recycling bins to the curb, and I had points of reference right in front of me.
I don't want this to be a novel about an artist seeking a grant or more fame. There's something else to this, though I'm not sure what it is yet. I'll probably know soon. I'm just going along with it.
I feel more for this character than I do for the two characters in my time travel novel, and a bit more than the narrator in my pinball novel. This should be my first novel.