The Muse and the Narrative Springboard

John Cheever often starts his stories with an object: the radio in “The enormous Radio”, the play-script in “O City of Broken Dreams”. These provide him with a springboard from which to kick-start his creativity. Would he have been able to examine the backside of the American dream without the voyeuristic power of the radio? Or the “fantastic” play-script that no-one has read?

Chris Powling once wrote that authors don’t wait around for inspiration to strike. Instead, they look for things that they can hang a story on.

Writers often talk about the importance of originality. The truth, however, is that original thought is not something that springs out of the mind. It occurs when an artist looks at something with new eyes, finds a new way of constructing a story.



You've got to admit that my Muse is a real looker.

Budding writers frequently imitate published authors that they admire; I myself remember making maps in the image of Middle Earth. The key word here, though, is “budding”. I might have well have used “inexperienced”. Imagine a writer who can only imitate The Lord of the Rings or Star Wars. Not pretty, is it?



The trick to original thought comes in two parts. First, a writer must evolve beyond the need to copy those he admires. And second, he must find his own springboard.

The springboard is something that a writer must choose for himself. It has to be something he finds interesting. I chose science as my springboard, though you might as well use the term “muse”. Science changes and evolves over time, so there is always something new to play with. And that something that every writer needs; new toys to kick start his creativity.