The little things: Finding Writing Inspiration and Ideas

There is nothing better for inspiration than going for a walk. It’s best to choose a new place; it increases the adventure factor. If you only walk out with enough intrigue, you will find writing ideas in each little detail.

It’s best to leave your stressed writers brain at home, if you’re in need of new ideas. Just relax and enjoy the surroundings, look at the details and they will give you characters and plot as a gift. Zakamarek

My boyfriend and I decided to take this type of walk on Sunday morning-the walking day of the week.  We headed along the canal, in the unknown direction and let our discovery roll. I took pictures as we walked along, to document whatever interested me.

You see, the freshest writing ideas come to you when you let yourself be captivated by your mind’s inclination to ask question. I took pictures of the things that inspired me on the walk. Like this bunch of willow catkins.


There were a few branches on the ground, next to their original tree. It looked like someone had taken them down. I started wondering why. What drove someone to do that, in an obscure part of a park near the canal? Who was this person? Were they just trying to get some catkins for their home, as a sign of spring and Easter, and failed? Or were they trying to find or hide in the branches? Without realising it, I was writing a story in my head.

The same happened as we passed other interesting new places. A closed down factory, with an asbestos warning, but containing a quite recent smoking corner. Why was it only closed down now? Did the workers know about the asbestos and were they exposed to it? It had graffiti with spiritual symbolism and a broken window, did a cult meet there? I answered these questions out loud to my boyfriend, and we reinforced each other’s ideas on what could be happening inside.

There were more of these ideas swarming around in my head, seemingly uninvited. It was the fault of the cyberpunk looking surroundings. There was a factory producing dye, with strange valves and boilers on its side. There were giant pylons leading from a transformer, and a small waterfall made on the canal. Everything was of interest.


Then we came across this sad message. A broken hearted teenager? Who was their love? Was it even a person, or a hobby? Perhaps they just meant loosing the human ability to love. I hugged my boyfriend closer. We pondered together and hoped well for whoever wrote this message.



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