I look in my cupboards and see capers. A box of arborio rice. A can of kidney beans. Crisco, flour and confectioner's sugar. Three boxes of pancake mix - two open and one closed, two plain and one blueberry.
I don't eat pancakes.
I look in my fridge and spot a jar of green olives with pimentos. Fresh, pink ginger. Pesto. Tahini. Several bottles of beer.
I don't drink alcohol.
I look in my freezer and find a bag of baby lima beans because adult-size ones apparently aren't tasty enough. A box of potato pancakes from the turn of the century.
In a drawer are two one-pound bags of lentils, pasta shaped like baseballs and bats, and unshelled pistachios.
What does any of this mean? What do I do with it all? Is there any possible way to put together meals with these items? Or should I just give up and order a pizza?
Sometimes I feel this way about writing: I have awesome characters, a fascinating world, cool scenes - but no cohesive story. I have spent hours and hours and days and weeks trying to make it all work. Frustrating? Yes. Impossible to fix? Argh, yes!
But not now...now I have all of those things and a story that knits them all together. Wow. I'm a little nervous. And excited. And nervous.