Sometimes people ask me where I get ideas. 

I feel like it’s more of a “how” than a “where.”

Here’s an example.

One day earlier this year after I’d finished shaving, I looked in the mirror and thought “Missed whiskers.” 

Just messing around with words

Then I thought, “‘Missed whiskers.’ I like how that sounds.” 

I started thinking of word pairs that sounded kind of similar, like “whisked mixer,” “mixed whispers,” “whiskey mixtures,” “wicker misters,” etc. 

You know just messing around with words. 

Well, I kept on messing around for the next eight months and a story happened. About a boy named Rusty who’s got a phobia of words with the “st” sound, so his friend Dusty helps him out by telling him a bunch of tongue-twisters. 

Here’s how it starts … 

So, where do ideas come from? 

I think they’re inside all of us, and inspiration is about paying attention to what catches us and playing around with it.

Either that or ideas come from bad shave jobs. 

Happy reading, 

Jeff, Bob, and Zoe

Current reads/listens: “Island Boy and the Unforgettables” and “Bohemians: A Graphic History” (Jeff); “Systematic: How Systems Biology Is Transforming Modern Medicine” (Bob); “Tanis” (Zoe).

PS. I saw this bit of roadside graffiti last week in southern Utah, near Kodachrome Basin. Thought you might like it. 

“Scar and the Wolf” Concludes!

For the past few weeks, we’ve been posting our entire zombie chapter book “Scar and the Wolf” on our Storyblog. (Thanks for reading along!) This week, the story concludes.

If you missed any of the story, start here. 

Illustration by Jordan Kump.

Chapter 14. The Best Things are Ings 

Daisy and Sigmund did indeed give her the dreams-cape. 

“We’d already put a down payment on it,” Dr. Sigmund explained. 

“So there was no way Dame Lurk was going to be selling it today,” said Daisy. “Not even to you.

Grandma handed Scarlet a wooden box about the length of an arm. Scarlet beamed and slowly slid the box lid open. Pokey and Sniffy lay in a nest of moss and straw, resting peacefully. 

Scarlet hugged Grandma, then looked to Daisy and Dr. Sigmund. “Can I keep them?”

They conferred. “You can,” said Dr. Sigmund.

“Until you find their owners,” said Daisy.

Want to change how you receive these emails?
You can update your preferences or unsubscribe from this list.