Story ideas are mysterious beasts. They can pounce on you at the oddest moments, from the most random of things.
When my son was little, I’d often take him to a children’s theater in Glen Echo Park (for those familiar with the DC area). There’s a gorgeous old carousel next to the theater, and, no surprise we always had to take a ride or three (no complaints here).
As we were inching through the line on one particularly busy weekend visit, we stopped next to the sign about the history of the carousel. I had the beginning of a story in my head, but it was nothing more than a jumble of ideas. I wasn’t thinking about the story, or even writing (I think I was more concerned about whether we’d ever get through the line before the child – or I – had a meltdown in the heat).
But then we were at the front of the line and there was the missing piece of the story. The most beautifully restored horse was waiting for us. Standing next to that horse during the ride, I could almost feel his story, the dreams of so many people who rode him in the past and would ride him after us, and the story I wanted to write.
I’ve always been fascinated by restoration work and, I’ll let you in on a secret, dreamed about working in a museum. I read the book written about the restoration of the Glen Echo Carousel and researched other historic carousels across the US.
A few months later, we were on vacation at the Delaware shore and around every turn, another piece of the puzzle fit into place. Everything from the restaurant with roof-top seating to the coffee shop to the store with mismatched accessories was born from that trip.
I don’t actively look for inspiration. The trick, I’ve learned, is to welcome the seed of an idea, that moment of “ouuuu,” then give it time to rattle around in my brain until the roots find the ground they need to grow and bloom.
I still go to the Glen Echo Carousel from time to time, just to visit, just for the reminder of the magic these amazing creations hold.