I have taken several creative writing classes in my life and they all have taught me something about myself as a writer. One class had us do an exercise where we write a story about the worst thing that we have ever done (yeah, that's never gonna see the light of day). One had us tell the story of our homes from the perspective of the walls. These are all different ways to find something within us that is worth telling.
At the library this morning, I got an idea for my next book. It has been percolating for a few days but for whatever reason, it poured out of me as I sat leafing through ABC books with Butter. I grabbed my notepad and wrote it down so I could remember it later. I can't do anything about it now. I have too much work to do on my current one. But truth be told, it took me 10 years to write my YA book so I don't mind waiting. Besides, knowing that I have another book in me, just waiting to be put on paper is one of the best feelings in the world.