Where do you get your ideas from?
Many people ask me that when I tell them I'm a writer. (An amateur writer, yes, but still a writer.) The answer, for me at least, is everywhere. This doesn't seem to suit them as an answer. It's as if they believe I was born with a finite number of fully formed ideas hidden in my brains and all I have to do is reach in and pluck one out. Like pre-programming or a gift from God. Like a woman born with all the eggs she'll ever need. As if an idea is a single, isolated entity within itself. A singularity, if you will. But to me, an idea is a nexus - crossing the streams and seeing what happens. An idea is not a static thing, it's a process. Sometimes that process takes years, sometimes it happens almost instantaneously.
My new puppy (aww, bless) is asleep on a folded blanket on my desk, next to my right elbow, head resting on a Star Wars stormtrooper mouse-mat next to this very keyboard. When was Star Wars? 1977? That's, what, 34 years ago. The puppy's four months old, he'll live ten to fifteen years, if he's lucky. From the puppy's point of view, Star Wars came out two to three lifetimes ago. Two to three lifetimes ago from my birth takes me back to around the time of the French Revolution.
This got me thinking about how dogs perceive time. Do they know there was time before they were born, that there will be time after? Or is all eternity just in their lifetimes? I can learn of the French Revolution through books, but the dog can never learn about the original theatrical release of Star Wars and how it changed things, even if it could understand what Star Wars was. The dog cannot learn from history, cannot access information from before its birth. (Well, indirectly it can - through genetics, "species memory" or me teaching it things I learned before even it's great, great grandparents were born.) Free of these constraints, what must it be like inside the mind of a dog? Does it only really concentrate on about twenty minutes? Ten minutes past and ten minutes to come? Does the rest just devolve to instinct?
And this train of thought leads me to think how an alien might perceive time if its two to three lifetimes ago takes us back to the birth of Rome or mankind's discovery of fire. How much patience would such a race have? How much foresight? This is an idea, but not necessarily an idea for a story. If ever I do need to write about ten thousand year old aliens, though, this idea at least gives me a handle on them. So this idea gets filed with the rest, waiting for the right place to be in a story.
Then I looked at the sleeping puppy on the Star Wars stormtrooper mouse-pad again and thought, wouldn't it be cool if, under all that futuristic armour, those stormtroopers were actually werewolves. Well, now we're getting somewhere...
So I get my ideas from the random musings of a turbulent mind. How about you?