Fears Over the Wonderful and Shiny Fictional Story Idea

Ideas are the easiest part of writing. In the realm of fiction writing, I've discovered they're scattered all over the long expansive fields and they're always available to impress people with the shininess that peeks out of the dirt. The hard part is actually grabbing the chisel and trowel to unearth that idea and reveal the story underneath. As long as it stays buried, you can claim it is a gem or special treasure. You can impress people with its magnificence and its potential. The promise for wonder fades away and is exposed once all that dirt comes off and the idea is fully formed into a story. I know I need to get into that field and prove those ideas are more than shiny little things poking from the ground. I'm afraid that there is no treasure there and it will just be revealed to be a discarded McDonald's collector's cup.

As a writer, I've got used to some great ideas turning into rather shitty work. It happens. It is part of the game. The scary part is when that idea has been with you for years and over time has grown in value. It has become less an object but rather a companion. Something you believe can transform into something wonderful. But what if through my own shoddy work that I mangle and mutate it, and it doesn't become what I have in my mind. The finished story is never ever going to be as great or magical as the idea that inspired the work, but what if my own tools are what makes it an abomination that could have been pristine. The even scarier part is what if that idea is the best that I'll ever have and I'm just stuck trying to hammer off the deformities and try to make it some battered version of my dreams.

But you never know any of that until you start digging. I think it is about time.