A DARK AND STORMY BRAIN

by John M. Floyd

I’ve heard a lot of authors, among them Lawrence Block and Harlan Coben, say that there’s one question they always get, sooner or later, whenever they’re introduced as an writer—and it’s often the first question they get. We’ve talked about it a lot at this blog, and you probably already know what it is:

Where do you get your ideas?

I should clear something up, here: it’s not only the famous who get asked that question. Ever since I started writing, long before I even got anything published, those who found out I enjoy writing fiction have asked me where I get ideas for my stories. Unlike some of my peers, though, I’ve never considered it an annoying question; the person asking it is usually dead serious. The sad thing is, in this case the truth might not set him free.

The answer I give is almost never satisfying because it’s so vague: ideas come from everywhere. From your family, friends, neighbors, work, TV, newspapers, movies, sports, you name it. Everything you see or hear or experience—or have ever seen or heard or experienced—is grist for the idea mill. If you’re observant and you can then ask yourself the question “what if?” . . . well, that’s all that’s required. Sci-fi author Lawrence Watt-Evans once said, “The problem isn’t a shortage of ideas; it’s choosing which ones to use.”

Several years ago, when I was asked that question by a student in one of my writing courses, I replied that I get my ideas from something called The Idea Book. It’s great, I said, because it provides a list of hundreds of ideas that you would normally have to find on your own. I of course was joking—I had never seen such a book, because it didn’t exist.

A week later the student showed up in class with a big grin. “You were right,” she said. “It’s a big help.”

“What is?”

She didn’t reply—she just held up a book with one hand and pointed to it with the other. It was (yep, you guessed it) The Idea Book, by someone named Fredrik Haren. I couldn’t believe my eyes. What I probably should have done at that point was (1) admit how surprised I was and (2) confess that I had made the answer up in a lame attempt to be witty. Instead I wimped out, nodded wisely, and said, “Glad you found a copy.” (That particular book, I learned later, is intended more as a management aid than a writing aid, but who knows—maybe it did help jump-start the creative process in that aspiring writer’s mind. I hope so. Either way, I decided it might be best not to invent any more book titles.)

One answer I’ve always liked is that I get my best ideas after eating a big bowl of Hormel chili half an hour before going to bed. That way, I wake up about three a.m. with loads of ideas, as a result of dreaming in wide-screen Technicolor. Again, it’s untrue, but it sounds as if it might work.

Other documented responses to the “Where do you get your ideas?” question:

Lisa Scottoline: “From the heart.”
Rod Serling: “They come from the earth.”
Stephen King: “From potentially unrelated pieces of information.”
Harlan Ellison: “Poughkeepsie.”

I suppose it’s safe to assume that there a lot of readers who feel the “getting ideas” phase is the hardest part of the whole writing gig. The truth, at least for me, is that it’s probably the only part that isn’t hard. Turning that idea into something interesting, and entertaining—and getting it sold once it’s finished—can be tough, at times; but I think the brainstorming that takes place when you finish one project and are wondering what to start next is more fun than work.

More fun than work? I can already see the doubting Thomases rolling their eyes, and hear their voices:

“Where’d you get that idea . . . ?”