One of the questions most frequently asked of an author is: Where do you get your ideas? And the answer is invariably: they're everywhere. From the back of the mind, from news items, from the world around us.
Just as invariably, that answer proves to be disappointing.
But there's actually no magic to story-telling. Psychologists have come to recognize that story-telling is how we create our own lives. It's the way we put information together into a narrative that makes sense to us. Everything that happens around us is being woven into the story.
How so? Well, try to pay attention to how you think about things. If you see a mother scolding a young child in the mall, but can't hear what she's saying, you're apt to come up with a reason for that scolding. Often even more than one reason. You'll think, "Oh, the child must have been begging for something the mother (doesn't want to buy) (can't buy) (doesn't think the child should have). Or you might think the child has been cranky and mother is telling her to stop complaining. But running on auto pilot, you'll produce a mini-narrative of why the mother is scolding the child. You may even embellish, imagining the scene that came before, or even a sequence of events leading to that moment.
And you'll do it all quickly, hardly aware of it, before forgetting about it and walking on.
Your spouse wakes you in the morning, hands you a rose, says "I love you!" and leaves for work without another word. You look at the rose, and how you'll write the story depends on other stories you've already written about your relationship:
- He's a sweetheart who just loves to suprise me
- He didn't come home until after I'd fallen asleep so he must have been out way too late again and is apologizing
- What has he done ???? (For a novelist, this is the most fertile seed.)
Each of these thoughts could lead to a further narrative, filling in details, all because you received a rose the moment you awoke.
Story-telling is the way we create our lives, and find ways to bring all the little pieces together. All of us do it, and it's the basic tool of a novelist.
For example, I noticed a car in the parking lot of my apartment house. I'd never seen it before, and it was parked in a reserved space. My first thought was, "Oh, those residents aren't going to be happy if that car doesn't move soon."
That car didn't move. Not only that, it stayed for a week, with the driver's window rolled down even though we had several heavy rainstorms.
After a few days, I concluded the car was abandoned. Naturally I started thinking about all the reasons someone could have abandoned a perfectly good late-model car. The novelist kicked in. By the end of the week I had decided there was a body in the trunk, and that's why someone had left the car, to hide a murder.
The police arrived finally, and when they did I went down to talk to the crime scene unit. The car had been reported abandoned by the management, and the cops had discovered it was a stolen car. We chatted for a bit as the crime scene technician told me about his methods. Then I told him about mine.
I said, "I've had a lot of fun with this car this week. I'm a novelist, you see, and I started making up stories about why it was here. I finally decided there was a body in the trunk."
All the police officers froze for a second. Next thing I knew, they were popping the trunk to look.
Yes, I laugh about it and it's a great story...but in that story were the very seeds a novelist uses all the time. We just encourage those stories to grow, rather than settling for a mini-narrative that's totally ordinary and walking away.
Instead we take the seeds, reach for the outrageous narrative, the most exciting story...and we're off and running.
If you would like to discuss or comment on this, head over to Coffee at Maude's Forum by clicking on Rachel Lee Blog about Telling Stories - We're all guilty.