The Idea Store
“Where do you get your ideas from?”
This is (apparently) is a very common question for creatives. I don’t remember having discussions around this specific question but as I talk to other writers, it’s a common question. I’ve heard snarky responses to this question. I’ve heard deep reflective answers to this question. So far my favorite answer to this question is from R.L. Stine.
The Idea Store could be down that alley…
Ideas Come from the Idea Store
In R.L. Stine’s Master Class (don’t miss last week’s post about Neil Gaiman’s Masterclass), Stine talks about the Idea Store as where his ideas come from. I love this visual and it inspired me to think a bit deeper about ideas for writing and for work. This of the idea store like your favorite Target or Walmart (I like Target). The store has a few isles like:
Memory: Things you remember from life
Settings: Places you’ve seen or experienced
Characters: People you’ve met or have seen
Imagination: Things that never happened
Stories: Someone else’s stories not yours but I guess it could be
Your store may have a bunch of other isles. Imagine going through your Idea Store and picking something off a shelf. Maybe a memory like maybe a time you were wondering and curious about something you found in an unexpected place.
And then Neil Gaiman said…
In Neli Gaiman’s Masterclass he talks about creativity in the collision of ideas. So let’s go back into our Idea Store, let’s go to a different isle and pick something else off the shelf. Maybe, an old myth that you just discovered. And let’s pick another thing from another isle, I’ll grab a few characters - one from the myth, two from real life.
Thank you Greg Montani for sharing this picture.
Okay, let’s give a try…here’s a story based on our quick trip to the Idea Store for you to enjoy.
Found in the Desert
“Where do you think it goes?”
Karl broke the silence
while I still just stood and stared.
My mouth dropped open
at what we found.
Sand blowing on my face
drying out my mouth
but I couldn’t close it…
I couldn’t do anything but wonder
what was it?
“I mean, do you think someone
just like forgot it here?”
Karl said.
I looked at him,
searching for a joke
only finding a thick headed question
or maybe his own dumbstruck wonder.
When I closed my mouth
the sickening crunch of sand
gritting between my teeth
turned my stomach
but I couldn’t look away from it.
“Karl, who would leave a giant gold string
hanging from the sky to this mountain?”
I asked.
“Well…it’s kinda weird right?”
He looked around
checking to make sure we were still alone.
”Aliens?” he whispered.
I laughed
but looking up
the gold strand climbed into the clouds
glittering in the Sahara sun all the way up.
I grabbed it to pull
feeling the finest chain links
woven together as if a
golden strand of spider webbing.
I pulled
expecting the sky to fall
but-
“HEY! What are you doing!?”
A voice behind me
a low guttural growl barked.
I spun around to find a woman with a
white dress billowing around her like a cloud,
rippling like a sun rise in the desert humidity,
glowing against her dark black skin.
She knocked me back away from the chain
with her fierce stare
and radiant beauty.
Karl, gasped as I stumbled over my apology.
“I’m…, I’m sorry ma’am. We just found this
and was just-”
I looked around
seeing nothing but desert
as far as the horizon
with only two sets of footprints
speckling the dunes…
Karls and mine.
Her dress danced in the wind
hypnotic, free and flowing.
Did she have a body under that dress?
“No touching.” She stepped toward us
and we stepped back
building distance from us and her and the gold chain.
My mind was torn between the urge to run to her,
stare into her deep brown eyes, to lose myself
in them and the urge to escape those eyes,
her presence.
“Go home and forget this.”
Her voice
shook the sands around us
Her eyes burned with
the thoughts of what would happen
if we didn’t listen.
Karl nodded
and I nodded
and we left immediately
almost running.
I looked back,
looked to her bare feet
resting on top of the scorching sand.
She was yelling something I couldn’t understand
up the gold chain
yelling to where ever it went
and each step left the sand
smooth and even
undisturbed.
Karl & I didn’t speak
on the way to the hotel.
I sank into an arm chain in the
white and black marble lobby
people rushing around me as I
watched the sun dance through the hotel’s pale
stone pillars,
I thought about her.
Waking hours later
to an empty lobby
and wondered if it all were just a dream.
The gold chain in the sky,
the desert,
and the most extraordinary…
the woman.
The woman
powerful
and stunning.
Real or not,
she will haunt my dreams
forever.
Will I ever sleep again without
the fear of hearing her disgust at seeing me
or the sorrow of waking to find
she was always just a dream?
<end>
Thank you for coming by. The myth that inspired this story was Obatala’s descend from the Sky to the land of Olokun. I hope you read the myth about the golden chain and how Obatala came to the land and then re-read this story for some context. The woman is modeled after the myths around half-human, half-animal beings, in this case a lioness. I’ve been reading this myths with my daughter and am loving them. I hope you enjoy them as well.
Thank you this week to Cheriee Weichel for hosting poetry Friday. Check out her blog Library Matters for this week’s roundup. Also, special thanks to David Mark for the awesome cover photo.
Have a great week!
