It occurred to me this morning that ideas are skeletons upon which I hang the rest of my stories, like so much meat and gristle. Before I can write one word, I need a central structural framework of the idea.
I am the paleontologist of my subconscious. I dig and poke in so much muck of the mind, but sometimes I strike upon the outlines of something unusual, something I’ve never seen before. You see, I am not interested in reconstructing ideas of the same species as another I have already done, so each is examined, identified, and if a known quantity, left for someone else to excavate.
It’s only once I have that skeletal idea with its odd protuberances, fanciful fins, and striking spurs that I can begin the process of reconstructing the whole of the beast, layering on the muscle of plot, the skin, scales, or fur of description, the nervous system of characterization.
That’s not to say that the creature lives when I’m done. More often than not, it collapses under its own weight, wheezes once or twice, and expires. But we try, as they say.
So how about you?
It is hard to say which of these three aspects are most directly responsible for that creative burst, so I am going to try and recreate the experience with a few modifications to make it easier to actually capture the ideas that come from it. One of the biggest problems i have with having inspiriation then is that I can’t remember it long enough to get it down on the computer or paper. Someone suggested putting in some kind of markers or bathroom crayons in the tub so that you can write it out on the wall, but as I rent, I don’t want to deal with any potential disasters there. So:![bg15_320a[1]](http://www.jeremiahtolbert.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/bg15_320a1-210x300.jpg)