Once in a creative writing class, my instructor described story ideas like they were some form of spiritual entity, floating around from person to person and looking for just the right artist to catch hold of them and make them real. And he warned us that if a story latches on to us, and we take too long in bringing it to life, it’ll float away again and move on to someone else.
Now, as a writer with a book that was coming on ten years in the making, this idea absolutely freaked me out. Even at that point in my creative career I had already watched the young adult fiction market fluctuate time and again with what was popular, and knew my book was probably doomed to be far behind the times once it finally reached publication. But now there was something even worse to worry about: my story would eventually lose its patience and abandon me completely, and a writer that was much more talented than me (or worse: less talented) and ten times as fast would snatch it and make it real before I could.
That thought still makes me shudder to this day, but I think after gaining a few more years and a little more insight I am starting to take a different perspective on the concept. The thing is, as often as we talk about uniqueness and individuality and diversity (all wonderful ideas to express, of course), at the very heart of things, all of humanity is predictably similar. We’ve been telling stories for centuries because we strive for communication, and the types of stories we tell keep rehashing themselves over and over again because, while the little details may change, the messages we long to hold on to and pass on to others are relatively the same. Good triumphing over evil; love winning the day; courage being found even in the darkest of times; always fighting for justice, etc.
So if you were to ask me now about story ideas floating around from artist to artist, I’d say I could believe that up to a point. But it’s not the story itself that will move on if you don’t get to it fast enough: it’s the message, or the purpose that will drive the storytelling. The “ideas” are not unique at all. We are all crying out for the same things–the same emotional releases and the same truths. And those ideas will find us all, eventually; yes, the trick still is to bring them to life before someone else takes the spotlight, but in the long run there is no way to fully beat anyone to the punch, and there is no way anyone could tell the tale exactly as you would.
If you take too long to write a story about someone dealing with a midlife crisis and trying to recapture the nostalgia of their youth–then, yeah, some other artist somewhere will eventually pick up the idea and run with it (but only the great minds behind The World’s End would think to add robot aliens from outer space into the mix).
If you take too long to write a story about a young woman being thrust into a strange world where she makes friends and enemies along the way as she searches for home… Well, let me introduce you to The Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, and Labyrinth.
If you take too long to write a story about youth struggling with and / or fighting against the biases, rules, outdated expectations, and / or cruelties placed upon them by an older generation (or some other force that they in their limited experiences have little to no control over)… well, I mean, that’s kind of the YA package deal. Of course it’s already been done before. And it will be done again. But depending on who you ask, this story takes place in a world that a.) is full of wizards going to school, b.) is split up into factions where children are expected to fight to the death, c.) consists of teenagers trying to live with terminal illnesses, d.) consists of horny teenagers–deemed incompatible for whatever reason–fighting for their right to love each other, etc. etc. The list goes on.
The point is, my original panic at the thought of story ideas skipping around from artist to artist was unwarranted. Yes, you should always strive to get your story out into the world before someone else releases a book or a screenplay that’s eerily similar. But there are always going to be similarities, either in the past or else down the line, because great minds think alike. And great minds see the world, not just for what it is, but for what we think it should be–and our art has always been a reflection of that.
Our stories do not abandon us–it’s just that the realities and ideas that prompt our stories are constantly hanging over all our heads. The choice we must make is to either grab onto them and make them our own, or to let them go… but they will always be there.
So, don’t freak out.
Night Owls, what are your thoughts on where stories come from? Any theories that freak you out just a little when you think about them?
