I am easily distracted. I tend to get started on something big, then when that long-awaited moment of writing inspiration strikes, it has the potential to sink me into a whole new project. I have a word for these harried, late-night scribbles--I call them my "throwaways". These are the dream inspirations, character examinations, setting descriptions, or illustrations of a feeling, like so:

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“We’re almost there,” I say cheerily, strutting ahead despite my own frustration, and we continue along the road, withdrawing from the seasonal colors of the meadow into open countryside, complete with lush, fruited grapevines lining the road. I approach a climbing vine on the wire fence and stare at one dark, fat cluster of grapes that dangle obscenely. My mouth waters and the color skips like a missed heartbeat, it’s purple purple purple blue, and I have to raise my eyes away before it lifts me off the road.

I got in trouble for calling that a "throwaway". An author friend of mine had to sternly set me straight on it, not once, but twice in the last week. And honestly, does this particular scribble have promise? Heck, I don't know. But I do know that referring to these as "throwaway" pieces is a terrible misnomer. It's self-deprecating, it cheapens the work, and it fails to highlight the opportunity they present. Sometimes it takes someone outside of ourselves to point it out.

Don't be afraid to scribble, even if it's just an exercise. But don't sell yourself short. Every moment you spend creating shouldn't be thrown away. And maybe, if you're really onto something, it'll be the seedling for your next poem, short story, or novel. Whatever it is, don't let it wilt and die. You never know what it can become if you take the time to breathe a little more life into it.