Tuesday evening, a quiet night in the Stag. Baz and Kev are the only patrons aside from two old guys half asleep in the snug by the door. They’re having pints of Guinness since it’s Paddy’s Day.
—I was thinkin’.
—Did it hurt?
—Cheeky fucker. Nah, I was thinkin’ about yer writin’.
—Oh yeah?
—Yeah, I was thinkin’ ‘ow does Kev get ‘is ideas?
—Ah.
—S’up?
—Tha’s complicated.
—I’m all ears. We are sittin’ ‘ere nursing a Guinness.
—Well, they come from several sources. The first one is a mind map. D’yer know what they are?
—I’ve ‘eard of ‘em, yeah.
—You start with a central idea and let your mind build off connections from it.
—Righ’. An’ yer get an entire book ou’ of one o’ them?
—Yep, can do.
—What else?
—Sometimes, it comes from overheard conversations. Somebody says something. You hear it. You don’t mean to. But once you hear it, you get an idea.
—Righ’. Sounds dodgy.
—Next, there is the ideas matrix. A complex grid of interlocking ideas that build out into a plot—
—Wha’?
Kev sipped his pint. Stared into space for a long moment.
—Mate, I’m sorry.
—Why?
—Tha’s a lot of bollocks.
—Why? It sounds workable.
—I haven’t got a clue where they come from.
—Really?
—Yeah. I got the idea for a novel sittin’ on the bog once.
—Ha! Was it shit?
—Funny. I got another one while I was out fer a walk. And I often wake up in the middle of the night with an idea. It’s why I hav’ a notebook and pen on me bedside table.
—Wait. Yer wake up in the middle of the nigh’?
—Sometimes, yeah.
—Fuck tha’. I’d be too busy sleepin’.
—Oh, yer don’t sleep much when yer an indie author.
—How come?
—Well, there’s the new ideas thing. Then there’s the worrying about the story in yer current book. After that, there is the worry about yer book sales, or lack of.
—Why the ‘ell do yer bovver?
—Er…
—Well?
—I like to write. I ‘ave a simple philosophy.
—Go on? This should be good.
—Well, life is pretty shit most of the time, right? So, I like doing stuff where the level of shit-ness I’m okay wiv’.
—Righ’.
—See wha’ I mean?
—I fink I do, yeah. But let me get this righ’. There’s no real science behind ‘ow yer get ideas?
—Wish I could say there was. But no.
—Might see wha’ ideas I get next time I’m ‘avin’ a crap.
—That was an example, tha’s all.
—I know. But bloody ‘ell.
—Well, you did ask.
—I’m goin’ to the bog to see if there is any inspiration hangin’ around.