Today, I had originally planned on heading out for Small Business Saturday. I decided against it, since I still have so much to catch up on from last week.
As I try catching up on stuff, involving prizes for Patreon, blog entries, homework, and copy, I find myself meandering along odd little intellectual side-streets.
For example, one of my classes requires I look up a New York Times article and write about it. As I was searching, I found this article about the 1919 Tsunami of Molasses. I’d never even heard of it until finding that piece.
Naturally, I had to click on it, because seriously? A Molasses TSUNAMI? How does that even happen?
The more I thought about it, the more horrifying the idea was. You’re just doing whatever it was you do in 1919, and suddenly a wave of molasses washes over you. As if the sticky goo wasn’t gross enough, it HARDENS around you in the cold temperatures. With that mental image in place, it’s not hard to imagine how one could meet such a sickly sweet demise.
And then I’m reminded of the importance of good dental hygiene, ’cause that much sugar isn’t good for anyone. Suddenly the tragedy is a terrible PSA for brushing your teeth. Because, of course, what else would I think of when I learn about sugary disasters?
Now, I’m tempted to try turning it into a story. I’m sure there are plenty of weird microscopic critters happily living in modern-day molasses. What would happen if a tiny little mutation turned them infectious? Would we get molasses zombies? Or they were to evolve into the next great species upon the end of humanity? Beware the beast in the kitchen!
In a shocking twist, I’m off on a mental adventure, trying to figure out how those outlandish ideas would impact the world and how it could logically turn into a story realistic enough to give a reader chills.
It sounds like a good plot for one of the video games my husband loves playing. Which reminds me, I should get more holiday shopping done. I mean, that book/toy drive I’m volunteering with, #GiveTCG, has a bunch of great game and comic shops taking part.
But before I can spend money, I need to make some more. Before I make more money, I need to focus on my education.
And there my homework sits. Mostly finished, and glaring judgmentally with its many digital letters.