How do you receive new ideas as a writer and as a creator? I usually get an impression of an idea. It may be after seeing or reading something that catches my interest. It could be a song or a phrase that seems to fascinate me. I always remind myself that ideas are everywhere and there are so many stories waiting to be told.
We all know that feeling of elation when we get a great idea or ideas, it may feel great to us at that instant. However, sometimes the best time to work on a new idea may not be at the instant that you receive it from the universe. I write the idea down, as many of the details that I can piece together. I leave the idea in a notebook or on a draft document.
At the beginning of my writing career, I would need to plan the story that could go with an idea. I would gradually add layer upon layer to the idea until it was fully formed and seemed to take the form, I intended it to have for my work.
Over the last few years, I do not deliberate on an idea and wondered how I plan to form it. I keep the idea away for a few hours or a day. I know in my mind when the idea is ready to be made into a literary form. I would call it gut instinct. I can feel that an idea is ready and “its time has come” to be produced into a palatable form of literature.
I have developed this emotional sense of knowing, which comes from within my mind and heart, that “When an idea forms, the Words will come”. It is this blind belief and passion for writing that I have that makes me confident to sit with an idea. I know that the universe will provide the right and appropriate words to bring that idea to fruition. This is my process of creation from an idea to a complete literary piece of work. What Is your process of creation? I would love to know, as would a million other writers.
The Forgotten Scarecrow
The evil crows pecked at him, They were not scared of him. He did not pose a threat to them, He was made of straw and wood, He was tattered and he was torn. He was stationary where he stood. He was a scarecrow in a field of corn, He watched the sunrise in the sky As a new day was once again born. The farmer plowed his fields, With patience and care. The farmer had placed him on the field, To give those nasty birds a scare. He was now lost and forgotten, He was silent and had no words. Exposed to the hot sunshine, He was burned and he was crisp. He had no voice to complain, He was stared at with pity and disdain. The Scarecrow was attacked by the birds, Not once, but again and yet again. He was a scarecrow wherever he went, Lost and forgotten he was in life. Abandoned by his family and his wife. He felt like a scarecrow on a field of corn, Watching life pass him slowly by, He could not complain, nor could he cry. This man was a scarecrow forgotten, Lost and lonely in an unfriendly society. This sad man was viewed with disdain and scorn, Like a scarecrow in a field of endless corn. The scarecrow had a beating human heart, He would not be beaten nor would he break. He decided to take his life into his hands, Creating a new future with new destiny plans. The scarecrow with a beating human heart, Would not be forgotten and lost yet again, He would heal his heart and love once again. The scarecrow with a beating human heart, Slowly steps out from the field of golden corn, To live his chosen life, as a glorious day is born.