You get to ask strange questions, if you’re a writer. A lot of the times, the questions are the purpose in themselves. Sometimes, you even get real answers.
I just finished perusing an internet’s worth of Lichtenberg figures. Yup. The marks left behind–on objects, or on people-by a lightening strike. There aren’t a whole lot of pictures, because it’s pretty rare. They’re beautiful, and I’m honestly a little entranced by them. Once I ran out of Lichtenberg figures, I moved on to electrical burns in general. Those aren’t so aesthetically pleasing.
I don’t know what I’m looking for. If it isn’t just a wild tangent, I’ll know it when I see it.
Somehow, I got from there to axe murders. Itasca, Colorado Springs… Somewhere else. I can’t remember. But the truth is, I’m a little bored by axe murders. That didn’t last long.
An article on using DNA to store information. That one caught, and I think there’s something there. My brain’s clicking away.
A whole lot of information has to go in to get the results I want back out. Sometimes, that means a biography, or a history, and sometimes that means skipping from place to place on the internet.
My imagination likes to cherry-pick, and we just can’t do that on a television and pop-music diet.