I am struck by ideas most often when I am trying to sleep. This is because “when I am trying to sleep” is the only time of the day I am doing one single thing. Usually, I’m reading, on my laptop, reading on my laptop, listening to music, cooking, and trying to catch my bus. Tonight, however, I’m thinking about the Olympics.
I’m thinking about my half-baked idea called Hopeful, inspired mostly by the fact that the Vancouver Olympics are nearly two years away, and I don’t know if we’re going to get a THE GAMES. (I remember a mid-90s teen sitcom about athletes training together that was less awesome, but here Wikipedia fails completely.)
Hopeful began life as a group of athletes, in a corporate-sponsored apartment building, training different events. Or a bobsled team living in a house, maybe. But not that bobsled team.
Lying in bed, trying to sleep, imagining 2010 when the Olympics make their way to my city, I think Hopeful is much more about me than I ever care to admit of my writing. I think it’s a story about the fans, and that’s not only because I don’t ski.