Understanding Inspiration, an In-depth Example

People often ask me where I get my ideas from, or how I get inspired. This is a very personal question, and it’s really difficult to answer. Plus, what I do may not work for others. This step in the creative process is something I don’t know how to really help people with; all I can do I suggest ways for people to open themselves to the world and their own thoughts in hopes that it lets them find their own inspirations. As part of that, I’ve got an example of something I wrote in the car on the way to Furry Weekend Atlanta (FWA) earlier this month. I’m not going to edit anything beyond the typos before I share it, because I want to talk about this in its raw form. Also, this is an incomplete first draft, but I think it will be interesting to see how I developed this idea.

First, to get to FWA from where I live in Florida, part of the trip is through rural, south Georgia. We know the route well, but you still see things on the road not noticed before. North of Thomasville, GA, we passed an unremarkable road that looks like it quickly turns into a dirt road. The name of the road is Egg and Butter Rd, which struck me as a silly name. Like who named it that? Who lives off this road? So, I pulled out my laptop and I typed up the title.

The House off Egg and Butter Rd.

Okay, so it’s a house, and I’m in a minivan, but what’s a typical type of vehicle that describes this type of area? A beat-up pickup truck. It’s stereotypical, but also there is some charm to the old bench seat pickup with scratched up paint, so hell let’s go with that and throw a character in it on the way to Egg and Butter Rd.

“Where is this place again?” asked the fox as the pickup truck bounced down the highway. The windows were down and Johnny had to raise his voice to drown out the road noise and the crooner coming out of the radio.

I do not like country music, but I can appreciate some Johnny Cash. Also, a red fox hanging out the side of a pickup truck fits this area. He’s not driving though, so we need a driver.

Robert glanced at him real quickly before focusing his eyes back on the road. “You know the old Johnson house up on the hill?” he asked.

“Yeah, the one with the old tractor out front?” asked Johnny.

“That’s the one!”

Okay, I’ve got a second characters, and he’s a guy. I write a lot of gay romance, but is this really two gay country boys? Not sure. You know those bench seats in those old trucks can seat three, and they didn’t come with full cabs like pickup trucks do now. Hey, let’s add a third character and expand on the house Old Man Johnson lived in. Also, I thought of the ice cream stand in the town my grandmother lived way up in Maine. You see lots of them up there. I know it’s not typical for the southern United States, but I think it still works, so…

“Is that where Old Man Johnson lived, the one who used to own the ice cream stand downtown?” asked Samantha. She was sitting between the two of them in the front of the beat up pickup.

“Yeah, that’s the one. He passed away a few years back, but his son runs the ice cream stand. They tried to sell the house, but it’s still vacant I think.

Since I’m thinking also of my grandmother while writing this, I remembered how when we drove around Maine she used to have stories for all these houses we’d drive past about the people who used to live there or what used to be in the area. She’d rattle them off, and it was impressive. I don’t know anyone who can do that with such detail now, but I realize the longer I live where I am, I’ve started to be able to do the same when it comes to local business and how things around town have changed. Continuing in this thread:

“It amazes me you know almost everyone who lives here,” responded Johnny.

“Born and raised here in Willow Hollow, city kid.”

And then I hit on the fact Johnny isn’t from around here originally while Robert/Robby is.

Johnny lowered his ears. “I hated that nickname from school.”

“it happens when you move to a rural town for high school,” says Samantha.

“Yeah, I got it, but you don’t see me calling Rob hear flop ear.”

The dog shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”

Also, until now, Rob hasn’t had a species. I could have used wolf, but I didn’t want to be typical. Plus, I’m still, as you can see, searching for what form of the name to use for the dog character.

“You’re the one who is still here,” pointed out Samantha. “You could have stayed away.”

“And leave you two alone? Hell no. So anyway, the Old Man Johnson house. It’s near there?”

“Next turn after that I think,” said Robby.

So why are the three of them going over here? How about a rental house? That could be interesting, and I’ve seen some weird rentals over the years I could riff off.

“And the rental is off that?’

“Yup, Egg and Butter Road,” said the dog, “and we’re almost there he added,” pointing to an old farmhouse coming up.

Johnny squinted at the place with two stone chimneys on either side and a large front porch. “God this is out in the sticks.”

“Yup,” said Samantha, “but you said you wanted someplace cheap.”

“I also don’t want to get killed in my sleep by an axe murderer.”

“Oh, we don’t have any axe murderers out here, city boy. You’re more likely to be shot after being mistaken for game.”

The fox glared at her and waved a hand paw over himself. “A big red fox is not easy to mistake for a feral animal. You’re the one with a tawny coat, yote.”

At this point, I’ve got a better handle of the character going on. One has a nickname he hates. And I’ve got species for all of them now. They’re all canines though, so maybe in editing I’ll change that. For now though, it’s a group and they’re out and about.

“Now come on you two. According to my uncle this is a nice place,” said Robby as he slowed down to take the turn onto a dirt road. The sign at the end did indeed say Egg and Butter Rd.

“And the road isn’t paved?” asked Johnny.

“Nope,” said the dog as the truck protested at the lack of pavement.

“There’s internet?”

“High speed fiber. I wasn’t going to stick you in a place without that now. You still gotta work.”

Sadly, in fiction, people need jobs, and if Robby has a remote job and family in the area, it gives us a reason for why he moved back home. I’m thinking of the characters in their mid-twenties, so this in a way a reunion for them.

“Well, I appreciate that. You sure you want to be this far out?”

“It beats the city.”

“Okay, even for me that’s thick,” responded Samantha. “You live in an apartment downtown yes, but this isn’t the city.”

“On that, I know why I’m living back here, but why are you two here still?’ asked Johnny.

“Same as you,” responded Samantha. “Got family here, and they’re not getting younger. My brother and his wife are expected their third child this fall.”

“Hey, unlike you two, I like it here,” responded Robby, pulling up to another old house. It was a two-story home with white clapboards. Outside there was an SUV.

“This isn’t looking promising,” responded Johnny.

Samantha squinted at the house. “It’s not falling down, but how old it is?”

“A hundred years old, but it’s been redone on the inside.”

I had to stop at this point since I took over driving, but I’m thinking of the three of them being a polycule. I’m not sure yet if I want to go to go that direction, but it could be fun. Also, since this is a rural area, I could work some embarrassing dialogue in from the person who is renting the house. I was thinking an older cat to offset the fact I’ve got three canines, but that’s still up in the air. As you can see, at this point in the drafting process, I haven’t nailed down all the details and I don’t have a lot of description, but I’ve got a setting developing. When I get back to this, I’ll definitely need to revise some stuff, but already, just form a silly street sign, I’ve got a story developing.