The trees have bikinis!

So I was mowing my lawn today and I got to thinking. How? You ask. Well I don't have a gas guzzling, air polluting, energy sucking lawn mower. My mower is me powered. I push, blades rotate, grass lies dead at my feet.
Sorry, let me get off my evil soap box.
There. Now since there is no motor it's a quiet affair when I mow my lawn and it affords me the time to let my brain wander. Which is a dangerous thing, who knows what I will come up with.
I started making lists in my head. And then this image popped in my head.
The Starbucks that I frequent to write and take some me time has two trees outside that someone so kindly dress up with bikinis. One is pink and orange and the other is yellow.
How ridiculous is that? But is it? We dress our pets, (well I do) We dress our houses, lawns, lives. A tree wearing bikini isn't so odd.
Believe it or not, that whole conversation led me to this.
Categorizing my writing and taking note of what I have learned about me. Because what I am about to do is both ridiculous and odd.

Problem: I have learned that the two stories I have been working on that are in the first person are way more interesting than my third person. (Two of you out there want to know two? Haven't told ya bout the other one yet...moohoohaaa haaa haaa! okay evil laugh gone.)

Solution: Consider writing my third person in the first person. This thought makes me feel like I am leaning over the edge of the Grand Canyon without a sign to stop me. My third person story is the one that I have been working on the longest, that I have agaonized over and rewritten so many times. Now facing another rewrite is depressing, yet oddly settling.

Problem: I can not write young adult. I cant do it. I cant do it so that it is interesting, funny, emotional or suspenseful, at least not in the way I want.

Solution:  I am losing the Young Adult audience and speaking to my me audience. This decision is the most freeing. I can write the way I want to and not feeling like I am been shackled to the floor.

Problem: I suffer from TMI. Not in the way where you find out more about me than you ever wanted to know, but from a readers perspective. I, for some ungodforsaken reason, feel the need to tell my readers everything about every character. How they get places, all the subtle things they do, every single detail.

Solution: You don't need to know. Well okay, some things you do need to know, but the rest if fluff. It's too much it holds the story down, makes it boring. So weed out the TMI.

Problem: Going hand in hand with TMI I have a transition issue. I cant just leave my story in one spot then promptly pick it up at a later time. For example. My character is going to leave, drive home, make a few turns, has a few thoughts then get home go to bed and wake up the next morning.

Solution: 'Waking up the next morning she had a thought.' Look fluff gone. Do that more.

So where does this leave me?
Another rewrite. Sad but true. I recently read an article titled 'A Million Words of Crap' and I feel I am nearing the end of my crap and verging on the real story.
What am I going to do?
Well some of you are just going to wait to find out.

Look at that I was suspenseful!