The idea is standing right behind me, isn’t it?

Where do you get your ideas? You hear writers joking about the question. But I haven’t been asked it in years.

Here’s an answer for the question no one is asking. Stories jump you when you aren’t looking. You’re reading an article about a hurricane in Galveston Bay and the people who don’t leave. Minutes later, you’re writing about a dive bar where a gang of misfits are trying to bring on the Apocalypse. (Live from the End of the World. You can listen to it on Pseudopod.)

My ideas come when I’m cooking, when I’m walking in the park. When I’m doing laundry and notice the detergent bottle looks like a face. (The Care and Feeding of Household Gods, from the anthology Beyond the Veil).

Do you know when they don’t come? When I’m trying to think of a story to write. So with that, I’m going to take a walk in the cold dark night and see if an idea sneaks up on me.