It is the question that plagues us: “Where do you get your ideas?”
What a strange, stupid question. Isn’t it? The very query seems to suggest that we receive all our ideas from some external source. People ask you that question, you just want to reply, “Uh, I don’t know, my fucking brain? Where did you ‘get’ that dipshit question?” Then you want to kick them in the colon and shove them down an escalator. Well. Maybe that’s just me.
Still, most of the time, we’re polite, and we stammer through some made-up answer that still lends writing the veneer of magic others feel it deserves. You may find yourself at times stymied on how to approach this question and offer an answer that satisfies the interrogator, and so here, today, I intend to do you a service. I have listed a handful of answers to this question that you may borrow and utilize in your own daily life. Hell, use them in interviews. You have my permission. (Or, add your own in the comments!)
So, here goes. Where do writers get their ideas? Select your favorites. Trade them with friends.
Shady Men In Trenchcoats
“I got a guy. What? You don’t have a guy? You need a guy. An idea guy. Here, you can use my guy. He roams, this guy, roves all over the city, but you’ll find him. You call this number. Sounds like a Korean laundry service. Tell him what you’re looking for on the answering machine. Then you’ll get a call back, and he’ll tell you where to meet him. The pier. The warehouse. The gator farm. The dildo shop. I gotta warn you, though: this guy, the idea guy? He’s not cheap. I mean, you can get the shitty leads for just pennies. He’ll sell you Rio Rancho for a quarter. But if you want the premium leads? The real ideas? You want the Glengarry ideas? Well. Then it’s fuck or walk, am I right?”
Navel-Gazing
“I get my ideas from –”
*showcasing hands orbit your belly button like you’re Vanna White profiling a shiny toaster*
“That’s right. I get them from my belly button. The omphalos, friend. You think they come from up here –” *taps temple* “– but it comes from down here.” *pops thumb into belly button, swirls it around* “All day long, man, it’s like, it’s like ideas just stick to you. They’re coming at you from all directions. Like pollen on the wind. And eventually, they work their way into your belly button and collect there. The flotsam and jetsam of good stories. Stick your finger in. Scoop out an idea. Here, I’ll do it now:”
*wriggles index finger in greasy belly button*
“Oh! Oh, look: SPACE PIRATE.”
*another dip into the ol’ belly hole*
“Here’s another: FALLS IN LOVE WITH.”
*pop*
“ROBOT JESUS. See? See that? That’s an idea, my friend. Space Pirate falls in love with Robot Jesus. It’s like Romeo and Juliet all over again. I smell a bestseller. I also smell dryer lint.”
Down In The Dark
“I procure my ideas from the goblin-folk. They mine them down in the crusty underlayers of the hidden hollow earth, chipping them free from the rock walls with pick-axes made from the bones of forgotten writers. They’re a feisty lot, what with their dread widgets and malefic gew-gaws, but it’s worth the price.”
WTF?
“I get them from the Macy’s perfume counter.”
Uh-Oh
“I kill people, bash their heads open with rocks, then eat their brains.”
Sweet N’ Sexy
“All my ideas are the products of an unholy union between myself and a willing unicorn sex partner. After three months the unicorn gives birth to my little squalling idea babies.”
Ciphers And Codes
“TIME Magazine. Pick an issue. Any issue. Turn to page 34. Rotate the page. Look at it in a mirror. Spray yourself in the eyes with a blast of refrigerator-chilled Windex. No! Don’t blink away the tears. Stare through the tears. Read the last paragraph on the page that you can see. Write it down. Then reverse all the letters. Take this code and run it through a ROT 13 cipher generator. The resultant response is the idea. Use it wisely. Oh, also, flush your eyes with cold water. If the burning persists, call a doctor.”
WTF? (Part Two)
“Otters.”
Magpies
“I steal that shit from other writers. I read their books and then I’m just like, ‘Yeah, awesome, a girl develops crazy psychic powers at a Prom, boom, done, thank you, Mister Stevie King, whatever, asshole.'”
Creepy
“I get them from you when you’re sleeping.”
Ideas Lasting More Than Four Hours
“Seriously? You really want to know? Boner pills. That’s right. You swallow a fistful of dick pills, you start to see some really crazy shit behind your eyelids. Even better if you’re goofed up on Ambien to begin with. All writers do this. How do you think Mark Twain got the idea for Dracula? Ambien and dick pills. They teach you that when you get your MFA in Creative Writing. But I’m giving you this pro-tip for free because that’s the kind of stand-up dude that I am. By the way, got any boner pills? I’m Jonesing over here.”
This Is The Future
“I have a robot. I give him poker chips and infant blood. He gives me ideas.”
Not Very Nice
“I get them from your mom’s vagina! Boo-yay!”
Social Media Guru
“Twitter.”
Aw, How Quaint
“A jaunty fennec fox in a monocle and a hat made of an old sousaphone comes to my house every Tuesday. He brings me a bottle of milk, a cassingle of Prince’s Batdance, and one new idea written on a fortune cookie fortune. Then he leaves again on his mechanical pony.”
May The Force Be With You
“George Lucas and I have kinda of a partnership thing worked out. I inject bacon fat into his neck-meat, and he e-mails me all his leftover ideas. We signed a collaboration agreement. It’s all good.”
WTF? (Part Three)
“A head shop in Des Moines.”
Or, The Truth
“We don’t steal our ideas from the gods. We don’t receive them from magical transmissions. We don’t earn them as badges on Foursquare. We see things in the world — in our friends, in our loved ones, in the forests and oceans, in magazines and books, in ourselves — and our brains set to work on these things behind the scenes like a dog whittling away a cow femur with his ever-gnawing teeth. The whole damn universe is our frequency and our brain is the antenna. Our ideas aren’t externally-driven. The process is an internal one. No Muse. No idea factory. No lightning strike from above. The same place you get your ideas — whether it’s an idea to have lasagna for lunch or to masturbate to The Barefoot Contessa — is the same place we get ours. We get them from our own crazy minds, man. That’s it. It’s not that exciting, but that’s really it.”
Josin says:
Ideas come from Amazon, like everything else. 😛
People put way too much emphasis on ideas, mistaking them for these unique and precious things when any number of people who have been exposed to the same experiences and conditions can have an almost identical one. That’s where you get new/paranoid writers who compulsively mail everything they write to themselves, and where you get cases like the self-published author who’s suing Stephen King because both of their books involved an old woman and a mystical painting.
Ideas are huge wide junkyards of stuff accumulated through years of things you may not even consciously remember. The difference between a “good” idea and a horrible one isn’t the idea itself, but the execution of it into a final product.
May 10, 2011 — 1:39 AM
Mistersuckerfish says:
You know… I’d kinda been wondering where all the bacon fat goes.
May 10, 2011 — 2:24 AM
Yahooey says:
I see you are keeping the Zen meditative techniques and the Carlos Castaneda type methods secret. I thought a combination of these two was required for Sci-Fi.
May 10, 2011 — 4:31 AM
Sparky says:
Comic Geek:
I struck a deal with (Lucien/one of the Ravens/Caine/Able/Dream).
Occasionally the truth:
I ask questions that need answers, then I answer them.
Scifi/fantasy:
I write about shit I want/wish was real.
Crazy answer:
The government beams them into my brain man!
Crazy answer 2:
I steal them from the future.
Truthful (sometimes):
You so don’t want to know.
May 10, 2011 — 4:58 AM
Julie says:
I want to start a band called “Lucas’s Neck Meat.”
May 10, 2011 — 6:38 AM
terribleminds says:
@Julie:
In that band I hope to play the bongos.
— c.
May 10, 2011 — 6:41 AM
Ali says:
Well, I nearly choked on my coffee. When will I learn not to read terrible minds while drinking? Probably never. Moving on.
This is hilarious. I hate that question. I usually end up saying something like, “The idea fairy. She visits me at night, like the tooth fairy. Only, with words.”
I wrote a post, way back, about questions NOT to ask writers. One of my other favorites is, “Why don’t you have an agent yet?” (Because last time I checked, that’s a process. There’s no Agent Tree to pluck an agent from.)
Annnnyway. These are hilarious. I want to know what Goblin-stolen ideas are like…*Grin*
May 10, 2011 — 7:41 AM
Dave says:
Soo… Where’d you get the idea for this post from?
Don’t worry, I already checked – ther aren’t any escalators nearby.
May 10, 2011 — 8:07 AM
mattaui says:
I usually tell people it’s one part alien sex fiend muddled with the folly of mankind, shaken and generously poured atop pulverized electronica. You have to drink it fast, though, or it’ll kill you.
May 10, 2011 — 8:36 AM
John Branch says:
Suggestion for another post: What I think of your idea. Answers to all those people who say, “You know, I had this idea just the other day, for a book/story/poem/screenplay/whatever. Whadda you think?”
May 10, 2011 — 8:48 AM
Nobilis Reed says:
What, no mention of Poughkeepsie?
May 10, 2011 — 8:56 AM
Maggie Carroll says:
I get mine from corn nuts and beer stains.
May 10, 2011 — 9:04 AM
Patty Blount says:
So, where did you get all the ideas for the ideas in this post? Don’t answer that. Please don’t answer that.
Seriously, this was great!
May 10, 2011 — 9:04 AM
Jamie Beckett says:
Such a great post! I really enjoyed this tremendously.
It entertains me that the true answer is the least satisfying to non-writers (or wannabe-writers). They really do like to believe that there is a process we’re keeping secret from them. If only they could find out what it is, they could be highly paid, spectacularly successful writer’s, too.
Yeah, that’s how it works.
May 10, 2011 — 9:12 AM
TheKitchenWitch says:
Ambien and dick pills? Awesome. Apparently, I get mine from cleaning up cat vomit; that’s all I’ve been doing lately.
May 10, 2011 — 9:16 AM
Lugh says:
I actually saw a fantastic response to this question the other day. Unfortunately, I can’t remember who the author was. But, a reporter asked him, “How do you think of all these wonderful ideas?” His answer was, “How do you stop?”
May 10, 2011 — 9:23 AM
Jennifer Williams says:
I usually tell people the ideas come as a result of a horrendously damaging childhood spent in a salt mine in Bradford followed in adulthood by a persistent substance abuse problem involving lighter fluid, and then they don’t seem to want to ask so much anymore.
May 10, 2011 — 9:43 AM
Dave Chalker says:
When asked that question, my dad would always say “The K-Mart Blue Light Special”
May 10, 2011 — 9:49 AM
John Murphy says:
I follow Neil Gaiman around with a Pooper Scooper.
May 10, 2011 — 9:52 AM
Graham says:
I get mine from a man who comes down from heaven on a flaming pie. But every idea ends the same way. Example: “Then the hooker stabs him in the neck… and you shall name your band The Beatles!”
May 10, 2011 — 10:07 AM
Peter Hentges says:
You are a lying sack of water and coagulated proteins, Wendig! Ideas come from the bottom of a bottle. Rye, bourbon, scotch, gin, vodka, cough syrup, drano, whatever. Drink it in and the ideas burst forth from you.
Usually in the form of vomit.
But there’s gold in that vomit! Down on your knees and mine it! Pan your vomit stream for idea nuggets!
May 10, 2011 — 10:13 AM
Darlene Underdahl says:
My husband trimmed the fat off a large tenderloin on Sunday, it seemed too good to throw away, and since it was Mother’s Day, I put the fat out on a rock for the wild mothers to enjoy. An eagle and raven showed up at the same time… bird fight! The raven drove the (much larger) eagle away with his/her relentless swooping talon attacks. Being the apex raptor, the eagle was shocked at such treatment. There’s an idea right there!
Ferrets. I don’t have them, but the neighbors do.
Lying hens per Craigslist. Not laying, lying. “No, there are no eggs around here.”
May 10, 2011 — 10:24 AM
Jamie Wyman says:
I read my cat’s horked up hair balls like tea leaves.
In the night, I’m visited by the Blue Man Group. They might not talk to you, but they whisper to me and give me the secrets of the Universe.
The Matrix has you. I plug in and drink your soul. Tasty tasty soul.
Hyrule.
May 10, 2011 — 10:37 AM
Dawn Vogel says:
So that’s why I own the cassingle of “Batdance”!
May 10, 2011 — 10:52 AM
Jaye Wells says:
My dark master feeds them to me through my dental fillings.
May 10, 2011 — 10:56 AM
Tim Dedopulos says:
If the person is annoying me, I tell them the bare truth: “I think of them.” If I’m feeling really vindictive, I might add something like “What? Don’t you come up with fascinating ideas all the time? That must really suck.”
But, y’know, being punched is depressing, so I usually leave that off.
If I’m being more polite, I usually go with “I have a strange mind.” Or, in a frenetic Invader Zim sort of voice, “SPAAAACE MEEEEATS!”
May 10, 2011 — 10:58 AM
Taylor says:
The Barefoot Contessa?Gross.
May 10, 2011 — 11:12 AM
Gareth says:
Yeah, I usually go with the truth: “Ideas are a dime a dozen. Everybody has them, all the time. The real trick is to listen to them, and then follow them, and put the work in.”
But the sort of person who asks that question is the sort of person who doesn’t want to hear that.
May 10, 2011 — 11:43 AM
ANS says:
All my ideas comes from a box of eight-track tapes my dad left behind when he died. I’ve never listened to any of them, though, because they melted.
May 10, 2011 — 12:34 PM
Jeremy McNabb says:
I get my ideas from reading other people’s stuff really fast, and misunderstanding it.
May 10, 2011 — 12:37 PM
John Vise says:
“You’d be amazed what you can find in the entrails of a ritually slaughtered goat.”
May 10, 2011 — 1:03 PM
Sinead MacDughlas says:
Off the cuff answers:
They’re not my ideas. They’re your ideas. I’m just one of the billions of people your subconscious made up to inhabit this crazy dream you’re having. You might want to cut back on the late night snacks a bit.
or
The voices in my head tell me everything I need to know.
May 10, 2011 — 1:45 PM
Heather Greye says:
“A head shop in Des Moines.”
The one in Washington State? I could totally use a new idea dealer, I mean, source.
May 10, 2011 — 2:40 PM
Gregor Xane says:
I get my ideas from my Jesus Funnel.
May 10, 2011 — 6:56 PM
Laura Anne Gilman says:
My cats tell me what to write. Then the dog contradicts them. Then the cardinals outside my window have to kibbitz a bit, and the squirrels tell everyone they’re full of shit, and at that point I’ve forgotten what the cats said so I piggyback in my neighbor’s wifi and steal ideas from her email.
She’s into some weird shit, yo.
May 10, 2011 — 8:37 PM
Jaie Maclane says:
Actually, the truth is, I get most of my ideas while drunk.
May 10, 2011 — 8:51 PM
Ross Hamilton says:
Come on people – let’s all fess up. It is time we told the truth – that for a small, monthly subscription to a warehouse in Queens, Men in Black deliver ideas to our homes in plain, brown wrapping paper (the ideas that is, not the MiB in plain, brown wrapping paper).
May 10, 2011 — 10:47 PM
Anthony Elmore says:
I huff some Scotch Guard in a vacuum cleaner bag, blackout, wake up, bury the evidence, get a cab home, then it all comes to me…The Harder they Come meets Interview with the Vampire – Rasferatu!!
May 11, 2011 — 12:03 AM
Michael LaRocca says:
Oh man, you ended with the truth. Now everybody’s gonna write. We’re fucked.
May 11, 2011 — 1:34 AM
Eric Zawadzki says:
@Lugh: “How do you think of all these wonderful ideas?” His answer was, “How do you stop?”
This.
I don’t struggle with writer’s block in the traditional sense – writer’s “exactly how the hell do I want this scene to go?”, maybe, but not a shortage of new ideas. The trouble is finding the time to develop them properly, making the difficult choices between two equally awesome, mutually exclusive ideas (Schroedinger’s ideas?), getting bogged down in stupid research (wiki wandering when I meant to just look up one little thing) until I don’t have enough time to get through what I wanted to do that day.
My to-do list for ideas to develop? That’s a long fucking to-do list. And it gets longer by the day. I can’t comprehend it being otherwise.
May 11, 2011 — 1:40 AM
Rebecca J Fleming says:
Through most of high school, my non-writerly friends were always bugging me about where I got my ideas. Sick of always answering the question with some wanky answer about inspiration and what have you, I took to responding with, “I dug it out of a drop bear’s arse.”
They don’t ask me anymore 🙂
May 11, 2011 — 4:26 AM
Aiwevanya says:
I usually go for a poetic rendering of the truth, something along the lines of “The world is full of ideas, all around us every day, all you do is reach out with your mind and pick the ones you like.” it’s approximately how it works and it sounds suitably mystical to the uninitiated.
May 11, 2011 — 6:18 AM
Jack says:
People just need to learn to do what you have. Write those ideas down. Carry a notepad, and anything that pops into your skull, write that fucker down. Get into this habbit, and then flesh them out.
If you aren’t capturing everything that pops into your head, then you are losing that awesome idea for a novel.
You can’t develop what you don’t catch.
Have I mentioned that you need to catch your ideas?
May 11, 2011 — 6:57 AM
James Knevitt says:
Mine come from the same place everything else comes from.
The Internet.
(No, I’m serious. Hours of lazy browsing plus Google Bookmarks equals goldmine.)
May 11, 2011 — 7:50 AM
T.W.Wombat says:
Shit. Now I have to watch The Barefoot Contessa.
May 11, 2011 — 9:45 AM
Dr. Dume says:
The secret people encode ideas into the ingredients list on the back of cereal packets. You just have to chant them backwards at midnight while burning a lawyer’s favourite hat.
I thought everyone knew.
May 12, 2011 — 11:20 PM