Category: Creativity

I had a very long day yesterday, sifting through stock photos.  I’m trying to come up with a concept for some covers I need to re-do.  You’d think this would be fun – and it is – for the first three hours or so.  Then it becomes unbearably frustrating.  There are millions of photographs and various images out there.  Many are fantastic and would serve perfectly fine as book covers.  So what was the problem?  Designers have to tag their images with keywords in order for me to find them, and the keywords they use don’t always match up with what I think their keywords should be.

Not all creativity is the same.  My creativity is rooted in words.  Designers think visually.  Often, it’s difficult for the two sides to communicate with each other.  Example?  I was looking for a “sophisticated couple” or a “classy couple.”  My results were disappointing.  It took me forever – and I mean hours – to figure out that what I was looking for was an “elegant couple.”  Aaaaggg.  Beyond that, even when I had the right search words, a lot of the pictures were labeled wrong.  So, so wrong.

It’s interesting how the brain works, isn’t it?  We often think that creative people and practical people have trouble communicating, but it can go deeper than that.  It can be difficult for writers and graphic artists to communicate, too, because our creative strengths are in different areas.

This process consumed my entire day.  It even affected my sleep.  I finally got up at three o’clock in the morning to write down a couple of new keywords and some different concepts to try.  I started searching again early this morning.  While none of them panned out, I stumbled across something I think will work.  Finally!  What a relief.  I’m ready to stop looking at pictures and go back to words.  It’s much easier on my brain.

People often ask where writers come up with ideas.  I usually can’t pinpoint what exactly will spur story ideas, but here’s an example.  The other evening, I was mowing the lawn.  I got started late, and it’s getting darker earlier every night.  My back yard butts up against a wooded area, and the sun had gone down.  It was getting darker with every pass, but I wanted to finish since it was cool.  I was walking along, eyeing the forest when I heard a noise.  Something was moving fast.  My head snapped to the right, just in time to see this deer go tearing by, between me and my house.  I mean, this thing was moving.  Deer are usually very graceful, even at high speed.  This one was not.  He was so close to the ground, he looked like a torpedo, and he was getting ahead of how fast his legs could go.  He stumbled, kind of bounced off a rise in the terrain, and shot across the neighbors yard back into the wooded area.  Holy crap, did he startle me.

That’s when the questions started.  Where did he come from?  The forest, for sure.  What would have happened if he’d run into me?  It would not have been a pretty sight.  Deer are not small animals.  I was mowing with a large, very noisy piece of equipment.  What compelled him to run across the open grass, instead of staying in the treeline?  Deer tend to stay in herds.  Where was his buddies? Were they out there, lurking, too?  What else was in there?  Had something scarier than a human with a lawnmower compelled him to run for his life?  WHAT was scarier to a deer than a lawnmower?  I’ve been writing a paranormal, so those thoughts tumbled in my head.  The dusk.  The crickets chirping nearly as loudly as the lawnmower.  The complete disappearance of the deer… Yeah, I didn’t make it for another pass.  I quickly ended my mowing task for the night.  Now, that’s kind of a dramatic idea starter, but that’s how a writer’s brain works.

I finished the rest of the yard the next day, much earlier in the evening.  Would you believe that deer came back?  Or maybe it wasn’t him, but this thing was as bold as can be.  He came out from the trees, looked at me with my monster mower, kind of shrugged, and started having dinner.  He was in my neighbor’s yard, nibbling on grass and leaves the entire time it took me to finish my mowing job.  Yes, the questions started again.  If he’s so calm around me tonight, was there some kind of predator out there the night before?  Why’s he so calm now?  Can deer have multiple personalities?  What if deer stopped being so timid?  What if the deer rose up?  Questions, questions, questions… That is how writers come up with ideas.

I got adventurous today and went to a psychic fair.  I explored booths, listened to speakers, and got some readings.  I like to stay open-minded about things, and I take it all with a grain of salt.  For me, it’s entertainment.  Yes, there are charlatans out there, but I think others might have gifts.

The one thing that occurred to me is what good storytellers these people are.  They look to see what effect their stories are having upon their clients and try to tap into different emotions.  Can you imagine coming up with different stories all day long at one of these things?  People linger and listen in on other’s sessions, so they can’t stick with one story all day long.  I would have so much trouble doing this!  Maybe some authors have story ideas flying at them all the time, but mine take more time and cultivation.  Even those psychics who are truly seeing into a person’s life need to be able to communicate what they see in an effective way.  The better the story, the stronger the emotions and the more value people place on it.

There were some common themes that I heard today: that I’m strong and that I need to relax.  Those resonated with me, but made me wonder if I didn’t put enough concealer on my under-eye circles.  I try not to give them any hints.  An astrologist totally tapped into the fact that I write, but numerology was a bust for me.  My “life path” number is not me.  At all.  So there it was.  Some stories worked for me and others didn’t, but I like that they all tried.  I think that’s the part I like best, seeing storytelling in a different form.