Donis here. In truth I am not filled with inspiration today, which is ironic since over the past few days my blogmates have been writing about the Muses and where ideas come from.
My Muse is taking a nap. This is not an unusual occurrence for her since this is what she does every time I finish a book. So, as I have done at the completion of every single book I have written over the last decade, I admit that I am, at least for the present, brain dead.
Eventually my Muse will slowly stir and an idea will begin to form. When the writing-muscles start to engage again, I become hyper-aware of what is going on around me, of what other people are saying, of what is in the news, of the weather, but especially of what I'm thinking. Most of the time, my thoughts float around in my head like fluffy little clouds that I pay no attention to, but when I'm in this state, I stare at them until I find interesting shapes.
When I was in college, I was a crammer. I never studied much for tests until a day or two before, then I'd study until my eyes fell out. I'd never recommend this process to anyone, though it seemed to work all right for me. Even at the time, I was aware that in order for cramming to work I had to have a literal change of consciousness, and become almost hyper- aware. When I look back on it, I think it was just a matter of paying close attention.
Ideas come to me from the oddest places–from something I’ve read, or some off-hand comment someone says within earshot of me (be careful what you say around a writer). Once or twice from a dream I’ve had. In any event, the idea gets in my head one way or another and wiggles around in there for a while. Eventually it begins to coalesce and I think, “That might make a good story.”
And I'll begin again.
