In which I have a story that WILL NOT GO AWAY!

  
Am not meant to be writing at the moment.
Am not meant to be writing at the moment.
Am not meant to be writing at the moment.
Am not meant to be writing at the moment.
This was my mantra all weekend. I pictured myself as Bart Simpson, writing this in chalk along the blackboard of my mind (I don’t look very good yellow, by the way).
See, the thing is, I am, technically, “between projects”. One round of edits in; another forthcoming; my “in-between-projects” project completed …
Husband Bear said I should take a break. “Don’t start anything new,” he said. “You will be very busy again soon.”
So I, Sensible Wife Bunny, said, “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll take a break. I’ll just … like … read lots?”
And so, on Friday night, I said to myself: No Writing This Weekend. Instead, I planned to do lots of gymming, friend-meeting, cat-hugging, reading and maybe watch W, which I have been meaning to watch for yonkers.
It started off pretty well. Saturday morning I got up early as usualy but instead of writing I finished reading Timecatcher by Marie Louise Fitzpatrick (which was kind of made of awesome). Then I went to yolates. 
Then I had a couple of hours to kill before meeting some friends.
This is the bit where I must make a confession.
I kind of, sort of, maybe almost a little bit took my laptop out with me. Maybe.
Okay, so I did. And I was there, in the coffee shop, with a peppermint tea in front of me and two hours to kill and … a story came.
It just popped into my mind! Unbidden! Honest!
Actually, if I am being TOTALLY honest, it was not a whole story but, rather, a character. 
Her name is Clementine. She is sixteen, in her first year of college, and has enrolled in a philosophy class with an unconventional teacher who instructs the class that, for the whole term, they will spend their time writing whatever comes into their heads. At first, Clementine feels nervous and uncomfortable about this seemingly pointless exercise and the complete freedom it affords her, when she is used to being “taught things” that “fill up her mind”.
Clementine is slightly overweight, but wears it well. It’s her friends that worry about her weight, not her. They are pretty and popular and they want Clementine to fit in. 
Clem isn’t sure she wants to fit in.
Clem has a perfect big sister, Sophie, and a brother who never comes out of his room. Her friends are moving on to a cooler crowd. She has a big crush on Hayden Justice, college rock star. Her friends are trying to set her up with Brett, who is friends with their new boyfriends. And then there is Frederick Paul, who is in her philosophy class, too. He’s a geek who wears old-fashioned clothes and hangs out by himself at lunch time. He isn’t exciting, like Hayden. So why can’t Clem stop thinking about him?
So, this is my story. Can you see why I couldn’t get it out of my head? Do you blame me, now, for being very weak yesterday and writing 5,000 words?
I just couldn’t stop.
Don’t tell the Husband Bear!
Has this ever happened to you? Have you ever got a book-worm?

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