Mastering Story Ideas

The best way to have a good idea is to have lots of ideas.
                                                                    ― Linus Pauling

Working writers do their jobs almost every day. They don’t wait for inspiration. They show up and put words on paper. They do hit dry spells when the concept for the next book in a series isn’t good enough or the words come slowly. They may also get derailed by life or lose confidence in their gift. I’ve certainly know writers who have run out of gigs or have gotten caught in mind-numbing collaborations or have hit joyless stretches where none of the work seems to add up to much.  

I don’t remember ever meeting a working writer who said he or she ran out of ideas. Put words on paper daily for a few months, and the knack for seeing ideas in real life tends to become a habit.

Meet someone new, see the quirk, and wonder if they point toward a character you’d like to know. Read an article and recognize the bit that makes it memorable. Hear a scientific fact or get surprised by something you never knew about a family member or a historical figure or a celebrity, and it will get stuck in your head sparking questions. Watch a TV show that fails because it never answers the story question you had or goes deeply enough into its subject and wonder how you might do better.

There are tips on collecting ideas.

• Write them down as soon as possible.
• Write them down in full sentences.
• Make sure they are easily accessible, not just scribbled down and added to a box.
• Sort them so they fit how you write. For instance, do they seem to belong to a specific genre? Would they be interesting to a particular audience? Do you have an ongoing story that feels like it needs a character like that one?
  

Some ideas may be prompts. They may capture you and reveal themselves through research. Knowing more may make them whole. Or they may turn out to rhyme with the idea that’s hiding in your brain. It’s okay to just collect the prompts, but it’s better to let them take you where they are leading you right away, if you can.

Some ideas have value, but may not be for you. But which ones? I’ve regretted putting an idea aside because I didn’t feel qualified or knew someone “obviously” better to write it. The way I know now is by playing with the idea. Usually writing a page does the job. An essay or a scene or a character interview takes less than an hour. Looking at it a month later usually makes its dismissal acceptable, with no regrets. But sometimes, it holds on firmly, justifying its way into my writing.

Some ideas may need to sit. This is common. The more an idea keeps reminding you of itself, the more it is likely to give you reasons (though they may not be articulated). Some of the best ideas, once captured, ripen with time. They tell you when you have enough experience to dedicate work hours to them.

See if you can figure out why the idea caught your attention. This often doesn’t work. It never works when the idea isn’t ripe. But, as you grow as a writer and know about the themes you care about and characters you like to explore, an idea (once it’s expressed in a full sentence) may tell you why you care about it. And that can shorten the process of incorporating it into a story.

Have you ever tried to interest a writer in an idea for a story? Or seen someone do it? Or had someone, when you tell them you write, try to give you an idea (or offer to split the profits)? Here’s what happens.

The idea is rejected. Almost always. Sometimes rudely. Sometimes politely. Bad ideas, cliches, malformed bits without context, and “terrific” dreams are swatted away for obvious reasons. Wonderful ideas that are fully expressed will probably be turned down, too. If you’ve ever had a writer suggest you write it yourself, it’s probably worth considering.

So, there are a lot of reason for saying “no.” The unspoken reason is that a working writer has a surplus of ideas. Some are bad. Some are so-so and could be good. Some are good and could be better. All want to claim time and effort. There isn’t much reason for a writer to take up your idea unless he or she wants to collaborate with you because your skills, ideas, perspectives, and experiences are complementary. The two of you working together promises to be better than the sum of the team’s parts.

Mastery of ideas comes from becoming a working writer. It is maintained by continuing to write regularly. You can become more efficient by collecting and classifying and sorting and storing ideas less wastefully, but, just as happiness is a side product to how you live, having a lot of ideas is a side product to your commitment to writing.

Developing concepts for stories takes more. It might come from luck, but those pursuing mastery don’t depend on chance. Unlike ideas concepts t don’t come from dedication. They come from deliberate practices (or luck), so next week will be about mastering those practices.