I’ve been
posting writing prompts based on settings on Instagram recently. This view of Kynance Cove at dusk felt like looking down on another planet:
When I ran a
workshop on memory at the Charney retreat this month, I mentioned the very human
need to see faces and make sense of random shapes. Maybe you’ve seen the face
of someone you know floating in a cloud formation, or spotted Elvis in the
patterns on your toast this morning? So too, a storyteller’s brain is itching
to tell stories, to see the kernels of tales all around us.
The view
from my own desk has become all too familiar. But, inspired by a wealth of new
settings from my recent holiday in Devon and Cornwall, I’m all fired up with
new story ideas. Most of these will have to wait for me to finish my current
work-in-progress, but it feels good to have them already in my head somewhere,
bubbling away.
Once upon a time... |
Even on
holiday when I’m trying to give these story muscles a well-earned rest, I’m
inspired by the unfamiliar, by the strange and atmospheric, to see stories in
nature, through unopened doors or in an overheard snatch of conversation: “So
I told him, there was no way I was wearing the clown outfit…”.
Who lives in a house like this? |
But here’s one
of the weird and amazing things about being a writer. It’s vital to feed the
imagination – to read widely; to plough through boxsets; to sit in a busy cafĂ©
listening to conversations; to watch a play; to take a walk along a cliff path;
to stare up at a block of flats, wondering at all the life and drama happening
within. For me, the more that goes into my brain, the more that comes out.
What's through the arch? |
I’m a magpie
gathering ideas all the time, stirring them around in a brain soup (of mixed
metaphors) and popping out new ideas that have been through the filter of me,
touched by all I’ve seen and done and read. And those same setting prompts
produce completely different stories and ideas from other people and their
imaginations.
As I’m
getting older and wiser (Ha!), I also see the importance of stepping off the
treadmill of modern life, and giving my poor old brain some downtime, some
latent processing time, some staring time. And it is those moments when
solutions to plot problems evolve, new chapters form and urgent new story ideas
force their way to the front of the mind. The mix of leisure and work certainly
feed each other, and each is poorer for the lack of the other. Quiet and wonder
seem to be vital ingredients for all of us. William Henry Davies nailed this
sentiment over a hundred years ago in his poem Leisure, which begins:
“What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.”
Zombie apocalypse anyone? |
So, I thoroughly
recommend a touch of standing and staring this summer and wish you luck with the
stories that are prompted by doing so.
What's about to happen in this garden? Maybe a creature emerges from the pond? Or there's a romantic proposal? A drowning? What would your story be?
Tracy
Darnton is the author of The Truth About Lies, shortlisted for the
Waterstones Children’s Book Prize 2019. She has an MA in Writing for Young
People.
You can
follow Tracy on Twitter @TracyDarnton and on Instagram tracydarnton
2 comments:
Some lovely not-from-your-desk images here. With yesterday's post and this, mid-July must be the time of the year when writers indulge in daydreaming up new ideas.
Happy end-of-term fantasies, everyone, and hope some ideas grow and prosper.
Great post, Tracy, and I love the pictures!
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