Sometimes ideas just… arrive. I wasn’t looking for the idea, yet suddenly… there it was.
I’m plotting out a novel right now. A sweeping historical and political epic that crosses nations, spans decades, and has a cast of dozens. Big shit, basically.
I’ve had a little problem, though, in thinking through the book.
Nothing was really tying it together.
I know where the book ends — history is like that, the endpoint is there for the taking — and I know where it begins — again, history gives me a good starting point — but the roads in my head were all running parallel.
I have an idea! An idea that makes me… gooey. It’s the only word for it — “gooey.”
Well, I could’ve used “giddy,” but “gooey” sounds so much… better.
Because the idea, it’s perfect.
It’s where the story has to start. And it’s the thread — the mystery — that ties all the roads together.