Where Do My Ideas Come From? (A Completely Unhelpful Investigation)

 

I suspect it's something like that.

“Where do you get your ideas?”  This is a question I'm often asked.

Like any respectable author, I'd love to give you a wise, thoughtful answer involving observation, emotional depth, and my autism.

Unfortunately, my answer will often be summed up in four words:  "Damned if I know."

My Conspiracy Theories

I've decided to try to develop some theories regarding the origin of my ideas.

Theory one:  moss does grow on a moving stone.

Ideas, as many have found, will just appear unannounced, uninvited, and often at the most inconvenient of times.

Three AM?  Idea.

Driving?  Idea.

Middle of a gothic funeral?  Three ideas that all demand attention like Victorian ghosts with unfinished business.

And yet when I sit down and try to think of a creative idea?

Yeah, I got nothing.  Computer dial up noises as a single tumbleweed rolls through my brain, pauses, and silently judges me.

Theory two: the brain is secretly a magpie.

Shiny thing!  Other shiny thing!  Third shiny thing!

I have a working theory that my mind collects shiny fragments of things without telling me.  These fragments disappear into the mental attic where they gather dust, form unknown alliances, and eventually poke at me until I realize I have a partially fledged plot set up.

The stubborn truth.

Ideas don't come because you're ready or you're confident.

They arrive because your brain is constantly making connections behind the scenes.  Those strange, messy, brilliant connections that don't make sense until they do.

And your job is to catch them before they wander off again.

A practical (and slightly chaotic) system.

Since we really can't control where our ideas come from, I find it easier to focus on these things.

1.  Carry a notebook and write them down immediately.  If a notebook isn't available try your phone.  I'll sometimes e-mail myself my notes.  

Don't try to say "I'll remember them."  

Spoiler:  you won't.

If you don't write them down they'll vanish into the void (and not our furry black voids that demand tuna) and take all context with them.

2.  Don't question them too early.

Some ideas are bad as in "Uhhhh...WTF is that and why is it there?" bad ideas.  Some are brilliant.  Some are odd.  Sit with them and let them exist before deciding their fate.

3.  Trusting that more will come.

Hoooo, boy.  This is the hardest part.  That the well is not empty.  That the silence is temporary.  That the next strange, beautiful, slightly unhinged idea is already on its way.