I am teetering on the edge of a precipice.

Of course, literally, that might mean I’m standing at the top of a craggy cliff looking down at a bed of rocks.  One that would hurt a lot if I landed there.

Metaphorically speaking, there are many connotations of what that precipice might be.

It might mean, in an argument, you’re about to say something you’ll regret or can’t take back.

It might mean you are one action away from turning into someone you never thought you’d become, and doing something you thought you’d never do. 

It might mean you are one thought or idea away from solving a problem.  Like the title of your next book.  Or the formula to create a warp drive.

Or perhaps a simpler problem, like where the money is coming from to pay next week’s bills.

My precipice?

The next plotline for my current NaNoWriMo project.

And, no, I’m not usually one of these writers who plan the whole novel before writing it.

But for me, ideas like this just happen, and I usually write my stories in the same manner as it would be for the reader, not knowing what will happen next.

So…

It’s cold and wet at the top of the cliff…

Damn!  Just had an idea.  Got to take that leap of faith.