One of the most frustrating parts of writing is discovering that you only have half an idea. This has happened to me on numerous occasions. Some of my first notions have been powerful, vivid, and exciting. I have rushed to get to my keyboard and then started typing it all down and found myself running out of steam. It turned out to be a half-baked notion.

I think that this is why I write most often mentally. There is always the danger that you might have a great idea for a book and the forget it, I know. I think that has happened to me also, but then I also think that really good ideas, genuine concepts, do not fade so easily. Indeed, some of the best concepts for a story that I have used appear to have been with me for some time before I commit them to the page. They knock around my mind, occasionally wandering into view before receding again, but never really lost to view. I keep recalling them. The stronger ones survive this misuse.

If I had to choose between the genuine idea and the half-baked notion, I would happily abandon all of the latter in favour of the former. The truth is not that simple, however. My current novel is actually a compendium of ideas that never made it into stories of their own, a fact that I have already admitted to. Perhaps they were just stronger than I thought at the time or, or more convincing, and that they have a vibrancy that does not dim but does not run to 70,000 words either.