In one of my previous posts, I covered how I compose my thoughts. In this post, I talk about how I get to what’s worth a composition.
The thing about writing prompts is that you can’t define them. There can and cannot be a pattern of how they occur. There isn’t a way you can generalize them. Pitchforking, for example, is one theme I have been itching to write about in the recent past. But, every time I sit down to write, my thoughts drift into the other unseen territories.
Today, I list all (or most) of my writing prompts for you:
- An hourglass
- Behavior and misbehavior of people around me
- Countless dreams
- Endless thoughts and thought-provoking issues
- Everyday work-related challenges and my tiny accomplishments
- Listening to old songs; mostly from my maternal grandmother’s collection of timeless classics
- Longcase clocks
- My “I’m home” moment when my daughter rushes back to me with all her might, jumps into my lap, and, with the limited and unclear vocabulary, explains how she spent her day
- Photography, especially B/W pictures
- Play-doh and toy shops
- Seeing other writers fail or succeed
- Soap bubbles
- Storytelling my daughter to sleep—I must come up with a new story every day
- Sunset from behind an office building right across my office window
- The feel of my father’s thick mustaches when I was a kid (I was told that they belonged to my grandfather, but my father had put them and was no longer able to remove)
- The reflection of the Rising Sun
- Tracing tiny footprint of insects and crabs on a beach
- Wet shores that sweep from under my feet
True that it is easier to find an inspiration than to be one. But, finding what inspires you is still the first step. Here’s mine.
As we come to the end of this conversation I have this takeaway thought for you:
Your writing flourishes when your head, heart, and hands work for the same purpose; in the absence of which, you can be anyone and no one at the same time.