Inspiration is a unique and very personal experience. The key that opens my mind to Inspiration has become a fascinating journey in its own right, sneaking up on me when I have my back turned.
When I run on the treadmill, it pulls the best story lines and scenes from my strange inner world though trying to read what I have written after a 4mph run can be a challenge.
After verbally painting my characters into a corner, I watched Animal Planet with a bowl of chocolate ice cream as a companion, irritated with my protag’s foggy, alcoholic conversation with his ladylove.
I swear, as I watched a cheetah pulling down her hapless lunch, a scene presented itself and my protag yelled in my ear, “See. I was right to drink that last beer. So there.”
The story proceeded sans ice cream and TV. Strangely enough, it had nothing had to do with animals, killing and eating. Or chocolate. I am glad to report that was the only time Inspiration Struck during a nature show.
Now I am deep into editing and Inspiration Strikes differently.
When exasperation kills my enthusiasm with a closed and seemingly locked door, I leave the keyboard and do something ANYTHING else.
Feed the cats, drink a cuppa, pick blackberries, anything, except think about the MS. I work on critters for Miss Snark, Query Tracker and I clear my mind of my WIP. Pretend it doesn’t exist.
And suddenly, it is there, the key that opens that locked door. I think, well, why didn’t I see that before? The conversation, the storyline, the problem with grammar, etc. There it is, right in front of me.
Inspiration is sneaky but I don't mind the surprises.