Wednesday, 5 February 2014

How’d They Come with That

On Monday I went out to lunch with mum, and like always I started talking about my books. It’s something I’m working on *smiles*. She asked me firstly why I decided to write about prostate cancer even though I’d never known anyone—except Grandad, but he died before that even became a problem.
And then she went on to tell me about the awe she felt in my creativity. That she wondered where the ideas came from.
 
It’s something that I’ve thought about for a while now, so why not talk about it.
 
The thing is I have no idea where my ideas came from.
 
Moonlit Wolves’ series, or more so Loved by a werewolf came to long ago for me to fully remember but it was a blog story that I loved the idea of so much that I created a series around it. the characters stood up and they told me what the fuck was going. Other than that other stories, in the series, came because of things that I wrote in the book before, or before that. or they can’t to me as something completely different—again, I can’t remember the series idea, and the individual stories came so long ago they disappeared and became what I have now.
 
My Kevin was a set of tumblr stories, and the idea that I wanted a couple to fall in love and realise they were both gay together rather than one thinking the other is straight and him thinking that too until…anyway, I didn’t want it like every other one.
 
Falling in love with this forever is my story about a kid who ended up having a kid with his teacher. This one came from that book that came out about the woman who loved cradle robbing and though they were in collage the way it was promoted was teacher student relationship and how she wasn’t ashamed of it.
My thought: what happens to the kid after its found out about? And how is he meant to find his true self and his own love with the brain washing she’s put him through.
The idea happens to be a teenager, but the thoughts still the same.
 
My prostate one—or maybe more my Movember series is a thought on giving back, even if it’s only a little.
Mum asked me why I wrote about prostate cancer, but the thing is, why not? Why not write about something that affects others even if it’s never directly affected me. Or at least not in a way that was shocking. But it’s something that happens to men. And I write about men so why not give back.
It also might happen to your partner. To yourself, so to me it’s a simple thing, and it’s not nearly enough, but it’s going to be my charity until I it’s no longer needed.
 
And everything else just comes, simply and without real reasons. Like yeah, you’ll see something and that something will be the focus point to you because it’s the reason and looking at it will make you create and grow.
Sometimes it will be something someone said. Just someone and the story will create and grow without a thought.
And sometimes it will wake you up and night screaming at you to write it down before you forget because it’s the most awesomest idea you’ll ever hear and then in the light of day it’s a little dull and needs a shit load of help.
There more like a one-night stand off to much alcohol. The idea was awesome until you wake up and actually see the person in the bed next to you.
 
Still, idea come from nothing, they come from everything and even though you see a book and think “god, I wish I could come up with that” it doesn’t mean that your ideas aren’t just as good, and if you think about it, you can write the best book in the world, and have everyone like it. But it’s probably going to be your last, since it’s hard to live up to that type of greatness.
Or you can go on your own, create the words and your style and hope what you write, even if it seems like everyone else, that it’s different and unique enough that no one will notice.
 
I wonder if I can live up to that every time I get about half way through. It may not be original but is it my own?

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