It’s great to have “Invisible Ellen” out all over the country, it’s great to have the sequel to that book written, turned in and accepted by the publisher. But now comes what I call the dreamy-between time, when I wonder…what do I write next?
I am asked quite often where I get my ideas for my books. I have no easy answer, but I understand the question, it’s an infinite universe, but that doesn’t mean we can see all the stars. Sometimes we need a telescope to find what’s out there, or turn it inward on our own thoughts. Sometimes vague thoughts for a new book sort of alight on my shoulder and mumble in my ear, but it’s only wisps of ideas, characters calling from some far away place for my attention, fragments of lines and scenes. Suggestions in the ether, that I put down and try to connect into something coherent and interesting by linking them with snatches of conversation, observation, imagination, and memories. Inspiration can come from many emotional sources as well, rage at hearing of a horrific and pointless crime was the primary motivator for my first book, but I was surprised to find that I had played that out by the end of the first chapter.
Before I start mixing my metaphors into a frothy lilac, sardine, purple chai latte, I think a better way to describe this unborn stage of a new novel, or any creative endeavor, is that it’s much like constructing a house without a blueprint.
The funny thing about this creative process is, I’m committing to a place I will live for at least a year, but I don’t know yet what I’m buying. I don’t know exactly how much work it will be, I’m not even sure what materials I’ll need, and what portions of the structure will need extra support or will have the best view. I’m building blind at this dreamy-between time.
The fact is that it takes a good amount of concentrated effort before I even begin to construct that house. And it doesn’t always come foundation first. Sometimes the first thing is a claw foot bathtub say, (a character for instance) which may be, ultimately the most important part, or something that gets thrown in the construction dumpster. A room or two (plot lines) may take shape before the plywood framing goes up. The truth is, I don’t keep track of where the ideas come from, but I know this, just as when building a dream house, it must fulfill several criteria.
First, as I said, I have to live there, and it will take a year of my life, so it must be worth building.
Second, It must be original with touches that are unique, exclusive to me.
Third, The inhabitants must have something to say and an original voice to say it in. They must take a journey, either physically or emotionally. There must be change.
Fourth, This house is entirely new, but it must have history, secrets and layers, basements and dark spaces.
And last, Those who eventually come to visit my finished house must leave feeling that they gained something they didn’t have before. It could be a new friend, a fresh point of view, a glimpse into another world, or a good laugh. It could be many things, but they must take away something!
So, today, and tomorrow and tomorrow, I will watch and think, and rest, and sort, and sleep, and let the fledgling ideas find some purchase. I will introduce them to each other and watch how they interact. I will stack them in my building site. From the heaps of raw material, I will choose bricks and beams and fixtures. I will build in doors and windows that offer different vistas and then I will go back in and take out extraneous space or discordant features, (plot lines that didn’t work, for example) then I will add the curtains, or the dust, and the subtle colors of afternoon light or leaky plumbing. And I will be certain, no matter what, that this house enables those who visit there to see far, very, very far, either in to, or out from, its many windows.
I don’t know what I will write yet, I don’t know what that house will look like when it’s done, but I do know that I will inhabit it fully, I will have lived there as surely as any of the homes my corporal self has lived. It will be part of my own history.
We all do this. We all create our new story, build our homes and our lives every single day based on fragments and thoughts and impressions. We might not know it, but we do.
What will you build today? Whatever it is, I hope that it empowers you to see very, very far.
Shari, July 10th, 2014