Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Story Ideas

“Where do your story ideas come from?” Well, let’s see. First I get out all the candles, drink a special blend of flowery wine, meditate for twelve hours and channel all of the energy I can from my ancestors.

Okay, okay so that isn’t really how it works, but it sounds far more glamorous than the actual process. Normally, I jump up in a panic from sleep, and jot down as much of a nightmare as I can remember, and then build on it. Sometimes past experience trickles in lending to description and emotion. Other times I simply get strange thoughts and ponderings while doing simple tasks like dishes or driving.

There isn’t an exact science to what I do, which is part of its appeal. Writing is an exploration into something unknown. I find many times when I write that I am just as eager to see what happens, as I am when reading great literature written by someone else.

Each story is new to me and holds different sentiment and evokes separate reaction. There are often times when I am blessed enough to find some tidbit about myself I hadn’t realized before and other moments when I am completely shocked and mortified by the things I put on paper.

Either way I find writing intoxicating. I discovered a pure and liberated joy in a gift which I took for granted in my youth. It has strangely freed me to share my writing publicly as well as terrify me. There is an uncomfortable reservation which has emerged since being accepted by a publishing house. One which slithers about in my brain whispering its unruly denial and abuse; but my heart holds a far more interesting love and acceptance for not only myself but my work. This has granted an awkward confidence that regardless of how my writing is received it is mine…an accomplishment which can be plagiarized but never truly stolen.

So I either had way too much coffee this morning or went on a passion induced tangent. So what was the question? Oh yes, ‘where do my story ideas come from’. The answer is simple, there are many things which make up a book but none of them can exist without the heart of their creator. Therefore my stories come from me. They are born in the wake of my curiosity, fear, heartache, joy and love. They are fragments of my mind, heart, sweat, coffee breath; energy consumed days and sleep deprived nights. They are all that I am, poured out for you to freely devour.

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