The Spark for Writing

Once when hiking a friend asked me if nature gave me an inspiration for my writing.

No, it doesn’t.

Nature can’t inspire me to write about life.  What does a beautiful red rock canyon, with lush green vegetation and foggy blue waterfalls know about real life?  I write about life as it affects people.  And the solitude of nature’s beauties cannot speak of those truths.  Nature speaks an altogether different language.

I find the inspiration for writing in the humdrum of life as it happens in a bustle around me.  The chance words, the snippets of overheard conversations, the random thoughts, the strange interactions of strangers and people who think nobody is watching.

Sometimes I hear a phrase that I like.  It will become the title of a story and the story will form around it.  I will pull hundreds of pieces from the mental bin of odds and ends and see how they fit together, discarding those that don’t blend in.  I will try dozens of combinations until I find one that will work for the idea or feeling that I wish to express.

Nature is sterile.  Life is dirty and therefore interesting and real.