We writers get our ideas from crazy places. We get them from events in our lives, from dreams, from what-if questions, and even from weird conversations with others.
Why do I bring this up? Because I just watched the 1959 version of The Bat with Agnes Moorehead and Vincent Price. Besides being a tightly scripted and suspenseful whodunit, it has enough twists and red herrings to keep Marlowe and Hammer guessing. But, in addition to all that, it also says a bit about how our experiences as writers help to shape our stories.
For example, upon learning about the murder method, Moorehead's Cornelia van Gorder, a famous mystery writer, perks up with the story-crafting side of her brain.
Lizzie Allen: His specialty seems to be killing women, my goodness, two of them in one night, all his victims died the same way, like their throats had been ripped open with steel claws.
Cornelia van Gorder: That's charming, I'll have to try it some time.
[Lizzie stares at her with a weird look]
Cornelia van Gorder: In a book.
Have you been to a convention or conference where people ask you where you get your ideas? From now on, I want to remember Ms. Cornie's quote here for the next time I'm asked.
I remember my buddy and occasional writing partner Bobby Nash telling me how when he talks about murders and the like, people will overhear in a restaurant, and he'll throw in an explanation that he means in his books.
Of course, it's not always about murder. Sometimes, at least for me, inspiration comes from a song I'm listening to -- for example, when Prince's "The Beautiful Ones" triggered a comic book pitch about a group of aliens disguised as human women who learn to love high fashion and city nightlife and break off from their mission of destruction to save the earth instead. Or from conversations, such as when I wore a t-shirt with a movie poster for Hot Rod Girl on the front to a writer/artist get-together, only to be asked if that (Hot Rod Girl) was the new project I was working on. Well, before my mouth could say no, my brain quickly put together an idea about a dead female hot rod racer who uses her driving skills to help Death recover lost souls.
And if the only thing The Bat had to say about writing, it would still be worth a watch (or in my case, multiple watches across my life). But it doesn't. It also has a little something to say about that cliche of "write what you know."
After Cornelia and Lizzie are attacked in the house, Price's Dr. Wells offers his help and protection.
Dr. Wells: But do let me help you. Oh, don't forget that once I'm gone, you'll have to climb those stairs alone.
Cornelia van Gorder: Oh, I'm all right. I'm armed now.
Dr. Wells: Can you shoot one of those things without shutting your eyes?
Cornelia van Gorder: Oh, doctor, there are guns in every book I've ever written. I don't write about things I'm unfamiliar with.
In other words, Cornelia van Gorder writes what she knows. She doesn't just "make shit up." If she doesn't know it, she learns it. She clearly indicates that she has gotten to know how guns work... intimately.
And that's the trick, isn't it? Writing what you know doesn't mean avoiding subjects you don't yet know. It means learning them. Experience them. Research them. Move them from your "don't know it" to your "know it" box.
Last, Cornelia gets to experience almost every writer's fantasy in this creepy, campy flick. She gets to, in essence, live inside one of her novels.
It's something we think about almost without thinking about. At the risk of saying that all of us Mary Sue ourselves into our work, we do have to figure out the working of choices and voice. What would our characters do in this situation or that? Who and how would our characters speak when presented with this deadly risk or life-changing choice?
Even if we deny it, there is a part of us that enjoys those plotting and character moments that let us, even for so brief a time, be the hero, be the lover, be the killer, be whatever our work needs.
