Woah haven’t been here in a while. My bad.
WARNING: Aspiring Novelist may post sporadically in the upcoming weeks due to massive amounts of school work that must be complete before her spring break trip to Spain with the Glee Club. Viva La Musica!
Anyway I had a revelation the other day. I was sitting at my youngest sister’s CYO basketball game (she started a rally with a buzzer beater, GO GRACE!) bored out of my mind (before the buzzer beater, I promise I paid attention after that) trying to work out the crucial details of how my most recent idea for a novel would work out when a stroke of genius hurdled out of the sky and bombed the everliving out of my brain. Gone went thoughts of Between the Pages flooded out by … a NEW idea for ANOTHER novel!
Fine, it’s not a new idea per se. Here’s what went down.
Right after I texted my bffl that, holy crap there are SEVEN gingers in one room (myself included, I represent the cause) one little one skipped past me. She seemed familiar so I asked my mother what her name was; turned out it was Maeve. And so the wheels began turning. I thought, “hmm, what a nice Irish name, must utilize in the future.” This turned into, “Ooo, I could name my pre-British invasion Irish princess who gets kidnapped and taken to the Middle East because of her fabulous ginger hair Maeve.”
Still with me? Hang on it gets complicated. From Middle East I got five things: 1) Gabby and I should read that Sand Daughter book set in the Middle East for our next book club book, 2) I should tell Gabby I finished The Reader so we can have our first book club meeting, 3) oh crap, I already told her I wanted to read The Lovely Bones as the next book, 4) I need to get a real outline for the modern-day story about the undercover cop tracking down his lady-love while she gives the people who took her hell and leave him clues, 5) OMG, GRACE MADE A BASKET!!!!!!
Not done. This portion took significantly more time to reach because of the aforementioned rally MY Gracie started and kept me more interested in the nine-year-olds politely trying to make baskets off the other team. But when things calmed down a tad, I hearkened back to the cop story because that still needs a TON of research before I can even begin to pen (yes, pen not type) anything. This morphed into, “damn it, I should probably do more research on Princess Maeve’s time and what the Middle East was like during her time” which led to “What if she had the ancient equivalent of an undercover cop lover who tries to find her and she leaves him clues since she knows he’ll come after her and what if he’s the ancestor of the modern-day cop and they follow the same path? Woah.”
And there it is. A new novel is born. The two short stories will now be fleshed out to the max and complied into a novella/novel depending on the concluding word count.
Sometimes things just come to you. You never know where they’ll come from or where you’ll be, you just have to be open to them. I always carry little pieces of paper with me if I can so I can jot down these brilliant ideas when they choose to reveal themselves. Or store it in my phone. Or wait impatiently until Glee Club is over so I can run back to my room and write them down b/c I managed to forget my phone, my paper, and my pen; in other words my whole life.
Writer’s always have ideas. Below is one of my favorite pictures of all time. It’s Charles Dickens surrounded by all his characters. Some are in color, some mere sketches. It captures the essence of an author so perfectly. Your stories and characters always surround you. Some are more developed than others and some are in desperate need of literary surgery in the form of mental or written character sketches until they reach your satisfaction, but they are always there. They are your entire world. They never leave you.
Just since I’ve been prattling about my novels, here’s a breakdown of all the ones I have so far:
1 Completed and typed, edited several times (still needs more though)
2 Unfinished manuscripts both connected but not quite part of a series (I think, I’m not sure how they’ll turn out I’ll let you know)
3 Existing on in my head and short scribbled plans (they aren’t even worthy of being called outlines yet)
So there you have it. Seven novels all stemming from little old me. Every writer has just as many ideas as I do, even if they don’t believe they do. They don’t have to be novels, they can be short stories or poems or what-have-you. THe point is they are something. If you can’t find them, berate yourself for having run dry, and are searching and searching and searching, stop. They have minds of their own, they have to come to you.
The human capacity is endless.