Blogging: Where Ideas Come From

Getting late. Eyes drooping. Mind still going though, ideas swimming round in there. Out to the kitchen. Fresh brew. Back in behind the laptop. Flexed the fingers. Started writing.

The idea, fresh in the mind. Something about ideas. For blogging. Might help somebody. Might not. No harm in it either way.

Arthur, my internal editor, piped up.

—Aw reet, lad? Reckon you're about to write some nonsense.

—No, it's about getting ideas for a blog—

—Aye, exactly. How you get 'em. Works fer your blog. Not likely to work for many others.

Fair point, that. Closed the laptop lid. Sipped the brew. Opened the lid again. Arthur had it wrong. Something there. I knew it.

Ideas. Where do they come from. Everywhere, maybe. Mind has to stay open though. All the time. Best thing I ever bought, one of those little notebooks with the pen attached to it. Goes in the pocket. Goes everywhere I go.

Bits of conversation, overheard. Things seen. Thoughts that flit through and are gone if you don't catch them. Most of it shite, unusable. Some of it, though. Some of it's grand. Turns into something.

The notebook filling up now. Pages of it. Half of it rubbish, the other half—

Arthur again.

—That's yer trouble, lad. Half rubbish. Yer keeping the rubbish too.

—Sorting it later, mate.

—Aye, so you say.

Stream of consciousness next. Sit down. Open the app. Write anything. Even "I don't know what to write." That's fine. That's allowed. Tap into the stream and see what comes up out of it.

Reading, then. Other blogs. The news. Books, whatever's on the go. Every day, something. The pile on the desk never gets smaller, only changes shape. More you read, more sits there waiting to be used.

Arthur again, from somewhere behind the reading pile.

—Aye, I'll give yer that. Decent points.

—Cheers.

—But yer forgot one.

—Did I?

—Aye. Forgot going somewhere. Summat different. Bus. Walking. Train. Long as it's not what yer'd do normal.

He's right about that. New places. Even small ones. That's where they come from too, half the time.

Right. Done now. Brew's gone cold. Leave it there.