Where do stories originate? In our minds, memories, headlines, and everyday experiences. Sometimes when faced with a creative writing assignment or more industrious endeavor like a short story or novel, we feel compelled to set it in an exotic location around characters who don’t exist. Yet the rule of thumb is to write what we know because it will come from our heart. In reality, sometimes the inspiration comes from our backyard.
I have two stories in my head that want to be written. Perhaps you can help.
Story One:
Every day on my drive to work, I see two elderly gentlemen walking arm in arm. Actually, it’s more “arm on arm” because one is sight-impaired and leans ever so slightly on the arm of the other, tapping a cane to define his path. I do not know these men or exactly where they go, but I have a pretty good idea of their route.
Over the past months, I’ve seen them evolve. They are more confident now and visibly more fit. I try to imagine what they talk about on their stroll, who they are, and how they ended up in this small New England town. They could be brothers or cousins, but I feel as if they are friends.
I think this is a friendship that goes back many years, cemented during World War II. I feel like they served together and saw action in France… came home, married, and settled in the same town.
In my mind, they owned small businesses, were good citizens, worked long hours to provide for their families. How one man lost his sight isn’t obvious. Could be a genetic disease, an accident, or perhaps the result of some heroic deed. Maybe the heroism involved the other man. So is there a debt being repaid here? Or is their stroll just an act of mutual enjoyment?
How long have they been walking together? How many miles have they logged? Looking at them, they could have played in the Minor Leagues. Maybe they have nicknames like “Dash” and “Slugger.” Maybe they have Navy tattoos that are faded with age — a sea serpent and three linked hearts. But who is Natasha and what does the word “Remember” mean?
In the course of their journey, will they share a secret or witness a life-altering event? Is this the beginning of a story, the middle, or the end?
Story Two:
I was riding on the subway several years ago and had the good fortune to get a seat. As I often do, I glanced at the person next to me, not wanting to stare, just observe. I don’t remember the face, but I do remember the hands because they belonged to a wiry black man and were encrusted in gold rings.
The rings weren’t bands in a traditional sense but complex “sculptures” consisting of labyrinths of gold piping and strategically placed chunks of metal. Almost every finger was entwined in gold, defining their shape and tracing the length, in some cases to the tips. This made the man’s arm look like the branch of a tree, raw umber in color, encircled by some metallic ivy.
I felt as if this man were a musician or a sculptor. He projected a strong arts aura. Was he from New Orleans? Africa? Nowhere? Everywhere? Or from a gritty corner of this city?
While I don’t remember his attire, I seem to recall a calm and dapper quality about him. Maybe he was a visiting professor, a diplomat, or a shaman. Who made those rings and why did he wear so many? Did he craft them himself or were they a gift? Was each one significant or were they purely an embellishment?
I wanted to speak with him but hesitated because I had to get off at the next stop. Would he have been friendly or aloof? Would he have spoken with an accent? Maybe he would have told me that the rings were melted from gold coins salvaged from a pirate ship. Maybe they were bequeathed by an eccentric socialite who in her day sipped Absinthe and smoked thin cigars…
I felt as if this man had been wearing those rings for a long time, as if his gnarled fingers formed around them. Did they possess spiritual power? Did they “cure” his arthritis? Did he take them off at night? Had he ever given one to a true love?
Like so many untold stories, it’s up to us writers to discover them, tease them out, infuse them with emotion — and then set them free for others to enjoy.
I’d like to see where these two stories might go. Please comment! Suggest your own plot line or offer a scene on which someone else can build.
Tags: colorful characters, Creative writing, story plots
Categories: Creativity, Plot lines, Short stories, Writing