Out of all the aspects of writing I’m most amazed by the simple power the moments of true inspiration hold. You know, those moments when a story starts growing out of thin air — and grows and grows, and it feels as if you’re just observing, you’re just allowed a bit of insight into a new universe.
Yesterday I had one of these moments. I was listening to some music, and all of a sudden, I had one clear vision about a boy running and running. And the idea began to form and develop and blend with other, older ideas. It’s such a fascinating process.
Maybe this idea I had will never grow to be more than just a few sentences, but I know that many more ideas will come. And the process itself is marvelous. All these glints of life rushing to build something new, something that didn’t exist before. It’s a great power to have, and it’s great to feel this much power growing inside the prison of your mind as you feel the story growing stronger and stronger.
Sometimes I get such a moment just before I fall asleep. And sometimes I just have to get up and write. Sometimes I get that from a dream. But most of the time I just let it sink, I let it grow or die, without me doing more than just playing it inside my head a couple of times.
I believe that the best ideas never die.
A friend of mine, a painter, once said that people wouldn’t last five minutes inside his head. And I agree — the artist’s brain works differently; it builds certain connections that might seem random, it notices what most people don’t and it chooses to emphasize aspects that might seem irrelevant to others.