Anyone who has publicly admitted to writing a book has heard the question, “Where do you get your ideas?”
And, because we have a certain reluctance to admitting we pull full manuscripts from a cursed well in the forest under the light of a new moon, authors will often stumble through various, hazy explanations that don’t make much sense at all. In fact, you will often find it easier to believe the manuscript came from a cursed well than you will find it to believe that the author just sat down one day, hit a keyboard, and – some how – came up with all this nonsense.
Authors shouldn’t be trusted. We make everything up.
My own process has always been very vague-ish in my own head.
THE DAY BEFORE started as the image of a detective standing over her own grave. It took years for me to develop a plot that didn’t allow ghosts but did allow someone to investigate their own murder.
FREE FALL started as a pitch: Rocket Raccoon Kidnaps Boba Fett. It evolved from there, changed, twisted, and became a much more mature (and less abelist and awful) idea of two incompatible personalities working together for a common goal.
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS A WEREWOLF started as a short story about a women dealing with the holiday antics of her co-workers.
It’s funny that all stories start somewhere different. When we line them up on the shelf, rows of colorful books waiting to take us to wonderful adventures, all we see is the end product. We see the words on the paper or screen. And so they seem so similar.
But every story has a unique origin story.
Every story starts somewhere strange and wondrous, in a place filled with questions.
Every story is written in a different way. Some come like a monsoon, pouring out in a flood of words. Some come like a gentle spring rain, a slow word at a time. Some come in a controlled and measured words, a few words every day. Some come as the unexpected typhoon, roaring to life and then vanishing for a season only to appear again.
No matter where the story comes from, it leads to something magical.
What are you reading today?
I usually run by the convenient idea store on I-85, just outside Atlanta near the giant peach. They usually got a sale on Southern Gothic going, but sometimes you can pick up Fresh Romance or some pickled sci-fi for a steal,
I read a truly awful western romance last night – first two chapters and half of the last chapter to see if it got better (it didn’t) – deleted it off my kindle and went to bed. It was bedtime anyway.