How My Brain Works (or It Ain’t Pretty, It’s My Novel)

If you write in some capacity, you’ve been asked numerous times where you find your ideas.

You may have worked out a brilliant response to this, something poetic about the beauty in a sidewalk crack or whatever, but so far I’ve just perfected the stammer and shrug.

At first I thought I didn’t know where I got my ideas from, but when I figured it out, I was just embarrassed.

Apparently, I am inspired by my complete lack of focus.

Oooh, shiny!

So for the first time, anywhere, I will explain to you how I come up with ideas.

To do so, I’m about to re-create for you some of the thought patterns that led me to outline my current NaNoWriMo plot.  Time has been condensed for your comfort, names of the innocent have been changed for theirs, and I suggest you remove small children from the room as you read:

[Reading a flyer for Michael’s] Spooktacular is a stupid word.

Why is cleavage required for all adult female Halloween costumes?

That Alice in Wonderland costume looks like a hooker milkmaid.

The White Rabbit was a pimp wasn’t he?

No, the Hatter was—cuz of the crazy hat.

Now THAT would be a great book.

Why don’t I write books with talking animals? Or pimps?

Actually, I don’t really write books.

I should do NaNoWriMo again this year.

Damn it, I burnt the tomato sauce.

What would I write about for NaNo?

Remember that short novel I wrote once about a cooking show? Yeah.

I like to read chick lit. Maybe I should write chick lit.

How did that fly get in the house?

Maybe I’ll make the chef from the old novel a food blogger in New York City in this novel.

She can call her blog The Marinara Muse!

That’s so DONE.

Wait, she could BE a muse!

And her friends could be the other 8 muses!

And they’d hang out in Greece!

No, New York City!

Greece AND New York City!

Am I obsessed with muses?

I don’t want to write chick lit.

It could be inspired by the ancient Greek tragic plays!

But then someone has to die.

I don’t think I’m eligible to write Greek tragedies. I mean, being neither Greek nor ancient nor a playwright.

Ooooh, what if I make the narrator an ancient Greek playwright who for some reason is telling a modern-day story?

I have to tweet about this!

Hmmm…am I going to have to read a bunch of Greek tragedies before November 1?

I hate #FollowFriday. It takes about 10 tweets before someone says anything!

Julio is such an asshat.

Damn it! The fly just died in the burnt tomato sauce.

Julio is kinda hot.

Maybe I’ll just pretend the modern world has muses.

What if Alice in Wonderland was a muse?

What if I rewrote Alice in Wonderland as a Greek Tragedy?

Queen of Hearts as King Lear.

Wait, that’s Shakespearean tragedy, not Greek.

Quite honestly, Alice was a very annoying child anyway.

I’m ordering a pizza.

Alice as a muse is a short story at best.

I could do a bunch of short stories and link them together to make a novel.

Each story would be about a character in Alice in Wonderland AND a muse!!

Maybe I should make it a mystery…that would be different.

But Alice as a murder suspect?

Kill Alice?

Who Killed the 10th Muse?

Is Alice the 10th Muse?

Maybe I should just write about garden gnomes?

Friends…this is your brain on NaNo.

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This entry was posted in Creativity, inspiration, NaNoWriMo, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to How My Brain Works (or It Ain’t Pretty, It’s My Novel)

  1. Steph says:

    I don’t know whether to be afraid… or afraid. I actually followed/understood the train of thought not only jumping tracks, but climbing hills and windsurfing as well..

    Write on!

    Steph

  2. Cristine Grace says:

    This is how I think every day, not just when I’m writing! 🙂

  3. Catana says:

    That’s a lot of shiny! I think you’ve given me an idea for a novel about a pizza chef whose career goes down the drain when he falls in love with a man who turns out to be his long-lost father. His mother first blackmails both of them and then proceeds to put out his eyes while chanting “Put out his eyes. Apologize.” Backed by a Greek chorus, of course.

    With apologies to Sophocles and James Joyce.

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