A to B via Z.

A definite purpose, like blinders on a horse, inevitably narrows its possessor's point of view.
- Robert Frost.

Why is it so hard to get to the point? Maybe it's just me, although I never thought myself particularly flighty, but it seems as though remaining focused on the discussion in hand is like a game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey where the unfortunate equine keeps on moving.

Last night's rather somber tirade on the downfall of western civilisation, for example, was instead intended to develop into a jab at the education system and the way it forces children into choosing their life's path too young, juvenile cannon aimed too early and too far. What you choose at GCSE limits your choices at 'A'-level, and that hampers you when the Great University Decision rolls around. Your entire life revolves around a decision made at an age when the only thing that matters is the latest Boydrone gossip or worrying if Mum knows about the magazine under your mattress. Hardly the state of mind in which to plan your future, is it?

But I digress. The moment for educational bitterness has passed, and for once I'm going to try and stay on topic. Where's that donkey got to...?

Do all writers find it this hard, or am I alone? It's all too easy to become lost in the fog of the point in hand and forget the reason you wandered into the mist in the first place. There are gorrillas in there - Sigourney Weaver, too - and you may never reappear. Mapping out the work beforehand is one option, of course, but in doing so much of the spontaneity is lost. It's like the difference between a boxing match and a movie fight - throw the actor in the ring and he's lost without his choreographer.

Nope, it looks as though the only way to finally pin the tail on the donkey is to edit. To rein one's errant creations in and point them at the heart of the matter, no matter how hard it may be. To pile on yet another simile, writing isn't like herding sheep. You don't let your charges wander all over the mountainside, doing what they will. No, all donkey references aside, writing is like running a stable. Words are horses, not sheep; leave the gate open and they'll be gone, back to the wild. You've got to train them, watch them, lock them up at night. Only when they're broken can they be released. And to that I've only got one thing to add...

...Horse whispering is harder than it looks.