Writing insects that bite and such

This morning, while making tea, I remembered a book project I had thought of while I was in my second year of university. I had wanted to do a masters in creative writing (or was it a Ph. D? I don't remember.) and history, with that as the subject. So I was making tea this morning, and I thought to myself: Why the fuck did I ever give up on that project?

It's a Great Big Huge Project Of Doom, granted, so it won't happen overnight, but I don't see why I can't at least start it up again.

I seem to recall that I got discouraged about the project somewhere just before I actually seriously got down to researching and writing it, thing It Would Never Get Done, and thus gave up.

So I'm now giving myself a kick in the pants, and I'm going to start slowly building on that idea I had. Because, honestly, it was a damned good idea, and if I do it right, then it'll be fucking spectacular when it's done.

I'm off to go ask a million questions (okay, maybe only one or two) in ask_a_historian. Ciao!