Every so often, a writer is struck with an idea that is destined to become that person’s definitive work. That work, by its very nature, will transcend everything else that writer has done and will outlive the writer him or herself–in some cases, by centuries.
When that inspiration strikes, one must obey its call. One must rush off to the nearest computer or typewriter and get that idea on paper or on a screen before it fades. If the person is having dinner at a restaurant, he or she must grab a napkin — nay, a stack of napkins — and borrow a pen from another patron. Despite the chaos this may cause, especially if this inspiration descends during lunch rush, that idea must be put into a form in which it can be seen or heard by the world.