Where do you get your ideas?

I must be a writer. I’ve been asked The Question. If you’re a writer, you know all about The Question. If you’re not a writer, you might have asked a writer The Question. You know which question I mean. It’s up there in the headline to this blogpost.

Where do you get your ideas?

Neil Gaiman says that The Question is an occupational hazard, like being asked for an on-the-spot diagnosis if you’re a doctor, or for legal advice if you’re a lawyer. (Read his answer, and his exploration of that answer. It’s superb.)

Every part of the process (and ideas are only the starting point) takes practice. In an earlier post, I talked about the story games I play with children. Here’s another one; a perfect way of exercising the idea-generating mechanism.

On Facebook, a friend has been posting images as a jumping point for a story. A picture, a paragraph of setting, and a question or two. How do they feel? What happens next? I’ve been looking at paintings by Victorians who were reinventing the Regency through their own romantic filters. They’re great for prompting stories. Do you want to have a go? Just tell me in the comments what you think is happening in the picture. Here are some questions to get you started. What did he ask? What did she answer? How did the things get on the floor? Whose dress is on the couch? How does he feel?

renunciation

A timeline of stories – colour coded by series or group

Chronology of stories and characters_1Click on the chart to see it full view.

I’ve been using letters and numbers to code the stories into groups, and I have this complicated spreadsheet that says what is happening to each set of characters in each year – but I thought I might find it useful to have a simpler chart that sets each story in its year. The ones that cover several years didn’t fit neatly, so I’ve given each one of those their own column. The colour coding helps me to see which books belong in which series.

I told you I was an obsessive planner.

(K1-8, L1-4, and M1-4 aren’t far enough along to have a year, yet.)

That’s 56 books, or approximately 5,600,000 words. At 500 words a day, that would be 37 years (nearly). Just as well I’m doing nearly 30,000 a month. That’s still 15 years, though! I might need to retire and write full-time!

In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m practising avoidance again. The chicken coop has clean sand and clean straw. The husband has a coffee. The bed is made. I’ve played around with the RSS settings in Facebook and still haven’t got it working. I’ve created this pretty looking table and posted it here on the blog. There must be something else I can do other than tussle with Farewell to Kindness! (Are your characters giving you trouble, Jude? Whatever gives you that impression, dear reader?)