Tag Archives: little ideas

O is for being Open to new ideas

No one is perfect—no, not even me, or my critique partners. My CPs are infinitely helpful, and I’ve been blessed with a number of excellent ones over the years. But I’ve definitely seen my fare share of really, truly bad advice. Maybe even a little too much bad advice. I’ve gotten into the bad habit of rejecting suggestions initially.

Sometimes, they really are wrong for my work. But not always. As I discovered a few years ago, sometimes it’s best to:

Weigh it out

This phrasing comes from Josi Kilpack. She points out that no matter how off-base a comment may seem, there may be a kernel of truth in it. Somewhere. And who knows, maybe—just maybe—they were right after all.

I should add here that fortunately I’ve been a victim of this one, too. My favorite example here is when a critique partner suggested I add a scene near the beginning of the book. I hemmed and hawed over this privately—until the scene started playing out in my mind. It was so entertaining—and just like she said, solved so many problems—that I just had to write it, just to see what it’d look like. (And when I still liked the finished product, I stuck it in there.)

I have to stay open to new ideas—you never know when and how your work can get better!

Don’t have critique partners? We have a Story Department here from time to time, just to help develop ideas on all levels. It’s fun—and you can take my word for it.

What’s your favorite way to come up with new ideas?

Story department!

A while ago, I posted about a story department for writers, like that of a Hollywood movie studio. Basically, it’s a place where we can find help identifying weaknesses, brainstorming new ideas, making the jokes better, getting the story structure right and more.

How this works:

The lucky volunteer submits whatever s/he wants help with: this could be the seed of an idea if you’re in the brainstorming phase, a query-length blurb if you’re looking for more specific brainstorming help or stuck in between plot points, a synopsis if you want structural advice, or even a scene or passage if you can’t quite put your finger on what’s not working. For maximum effectiveness, a short list of what you’re looking for is helpful.

I post the material on the appointed day. Then we, the kind, thoughtful and helpful readers and writers around here, put our minds to work. Think about it all day and come back with an insightful idea, or post the first thing that pops into your head.

Of course, the volunteer author doesn’t have to use anything we toss out—but now s/he isn’t the only one having to think of ideas. And even if we don’t come up with something specific to help the volunteer, maybe something one of us says will spark another idea and the story will take off again, magically healed 😉 . (The volunteer is more than welcome to engage in a discussion, of course, but we probably don’t need a full explanation of just why our ideas won’t work.)

The story

Today, I’m the volunteer again. I’m looking for help with one of those “little ideas,” a scene-level fix.

The setup:

Our bad guy (whom we may call . . . “Tom”) is trying to induce our heroine (“Nina”) to come somewhere with him to save our hero (“Johnny,” Nina’s fiancé). Nina has known Tom for years—and knows him well enough not to trust him. But when Tom shows Nina Johnny’s prized watch (or something else) that he never parts with, she knows something is wrong. Nina allows Tom to drive her car, and they’re leaving the garage at her building when one of her neighbors gets suspicious. When the neighbor starts to call the police, Tom shoots and kills him.

What I’m looking for:

  • A way to keep Nina in the car after the gun goes off. Nina knows better than to go driving off with an armed murderer. I think Tom needs to physically restrain her in the car somehow.
  • I’m also open to suggestions on Johnny’s prized, personally identifiable possession (something he’d be able to function without).
  • If it helps, I think it’s not crucial that they use Nina’s car. (However, the neighbor is more likely to think something weird is going on if Tom’s driving Nina’s car. On the other hand, if you can give a reason for the neighbor to attract Tom’s attention and ire from Tom’s car, I’m open to that)

Want to participate? Jump in the comments! Want to volunteer? Send your material—including what you’re looking for—to storydept at JordanMcCollum.com. I’ll contact you to work out a date.

Original photo by Tom Magliery

Where little ideas come from

On the topic of “little ideas” again, I was looking to add some dialogue to increase tension in an argument scene, and I remembered a conflict from the first half of the book that had kind of faded in the second. A ha!, I thought. I can tie this back in here, and it will look so natural—you’d never know it was new stuff grafted on! I was very excited for another “little idea.”

As I read books, even great books, I often wonder which parts were planned all along, and which ones the author had to go back and add—characters or events to explain motivation or justify later actions, plot devices and twists, foreshadowing, even jokes that refer back to previous events in the story (which came first, the joke or the event?). (Yes, I do perform a lot of unnecessary mental gymnastics while I read. It keeps me young.)

And then I wonder, “Where do little ideas come from?” (I know, I know, when two big ideas love each other very much . . . save it, thank you.) I came up with three sources: planning, “fixing” (grafting it on later) or happy coincidence.

Planning is when you’ve known you were going to do this all along. So far, I always know who the killer is in a mystery, so I can plan some of the little hints in his/her behavior that act as clues, and I can foreshadow that big reveal in little ways. Even little ideas may be planned. Often, planning comes from fixing/grafting or happy coincidence during the plotting stage of writing, so you’re all ready when fingers hit the keyboard.

Fixing or grafting is when you’re writing merrily along and suddenly you realize, Hey, wait a minute. What the character’s doing here doesn’t make sense. I need to go back and add something before this to justify this story turn/plant this clue/SAVE HIS LIFE!!!

Happy coincidence is when you’re writing merrily along and suddenly you realize, Hey, wait a minute. This would be the perfect place to hearken back to X event/Y clue/Z character in my story. Oh, how neat and tidy! I am oh so very clever! (I love these ones.)

I think we all probably tap into these as we write. I’m afraid happy coincidence is the one I use most, though that may not be the case—and those are often the type of little ideas I’m most worried about losing.

What do you think? Are there other sources for little strokes of genius? Which do you use the most?

Photo by Rishi Bandopadhay

Running out of ideas

Are you ever afraid you’ll run out of ideas? I am. Writing fiction takes up a lot of ideas.

Mostly, I’m not afraid of running out of the high-level, story-starting ideas. Those ideas come from everywhere—watching television, reading the newspaper, reading other novels, brainstorming on other projects, etc. Generally, it takes me two of those big ideas combined to get really excited about a story. And once I’m really excited, I can’t wait to start writing.

But I’m afraid of running out of the little ideas. Things that solve problems on a scene level: tricks to get characters out of (or into!) scrapes, gadgets and technology, historical and cultural facts, and so forth. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been incredibly lucky to come up with the number of ideas (and solutions rooted in my research) that I’ve had in the first place—what if I run out?

Sometimes, I want to save these ideas. “Yeah, I could use this here,” I tell myself. “It might help this scene, but what if I need that exact kind of plot device/gadget/tidbit more in a year or two or five? I mean, I guess I could use it then, too, but won’t that make my writing . . . redundant?”

I’m trying to learn to trust myself—if I have an idea that works for this story that punches it up, I probably shouldn’t wait to see if maybe this story will work okay without it and I can use it later. It’s not “wasting” an idea if you actually put it to use—and who knows if you’ll ever have occasion to use something like that again. And even if you do, chances are that you’ll have to customize it to your characters and their story, so it would probably look very different.

What do you think? Where do you get your “little” ideas and solutions? Do you think something like that might be recognizable? Do you know of any writers who repeat the same plot devices too much?

Photo by Steve Koukoulas