Head in the Clouds - Where do you get your inspiration? ............................ by Delsora Lowe

 Being a writer can be tough sometimes.

Not because of the work that goes into every piece we write, whether it is a short blog, a poem, or an entire novel. But because our imagination NEVER stops.

Too many ideas. Not enough time in the universe to make all those words sing and deliver a message.

Not long ago, I drove by a sign that indicated a consignment shop. I immediately wrote a 5-minute short story in my head, as I drove. I have since drafted out one I will eventually send to Woman’s World, after I edit it a zillion times.

Recently, I visited my son who lives about forty-five minutes away. He lives just outside a small village. I emerged from the car to a greeting from a black cow mooing. Moooo. Moooo.

And then the other cows answered back. Moooo. Next door is a big white barn, and my son’s house is surrounded by farmland. We often see wild turkeys or deer, and once a bear. Another time, while eating dinner, a fox strolled through the back yard, right past the window by the dining room table. Today, as we drove back to his house, a red-tailed hawk flew right over the car. And as I left about ten minutes later, that same (I assume) hawk flew back over my car in the opposite direction.

I know there is a story in there somewhere with all this wildlife­ and domestic animal neighbors, including my grand-dog Yaz who loves to greet his human grammy—even if it is a short piece for my weekly local writers’ group or an idea for a children’s book.

Snuggling in - my disguise - so no one knows I'm sitting on the couch,

As I cruised past the tiny nearby village, there are many rural roads that arrow off the two-lane main road. Some leading to one house and some to a small complex of houses. I love the names of the roads. They always trigger ideas. One is Turkey Trot Lane, and another little lane is named Pumpkin Way. Story ideas immediately swam through the creative side of my brain, as I repeated over and over Turkey Trot Lane and Pumpkin Way on my drive home. I didn’t want to forget any story ideas swimming through my head, since I couldn’t stop and make notes.

For a split second I envisioned a trilogy—each book title and theme based around these two street names, plus other fun names of streets that arrow off along that same stretch of road. My brain didn't have enough bandwidth to memorize more than two street names.

Now I’ve jotted notes and hopped on the computer to record thoughts before they disappear. Conjuring up story ideas that happen around Halloween and Thanksgiving, and even into the month of December.

Will Turkey Trot Lane and Pumpkin Way be locations in one story? Or will each be the title of a stand-alone story? It is hard to say. Until my fingers do the walking across the keyboard, who knows where the musings living in my mind will take me.

But let me remind you that a book I wrote several years ago (The Inn on Gooseneck Lane) and,  published by The Wild Rose Press in 2022, is titled and based around a street sign (Gooseneck Lane.) I passed the tiny lane in the middle of nowhere, while cruising a back road in Vermont.

I played with story ideas in my head for the next few hours, driving back to Maine.

So, who knows what stories the next two street signs will lead to as I write.

The creative murmurings that leave my brain as story ideas, are usually channeled through my fingers. Many times, as I reread what I wrote, I am as surprised at what ends up on the page as a potential reader will be.

So, if you are looking for signs or inspiration, don’t forget those street names that may be inspiration and turn into one more story—whether it is a short story, a novella, a novel, an essay, or a poem.

And if you are in the car and can’t write down your idea, repeat the inspirational phrase (or street sign) over and over until you can pull to the side of the road and write down your idea. Yes, it works!

 

Whether you are a writer or enjoy artistic hobbies, 

where do you get your ideas?

 

Holiday Hitchhiker

Amazon (also in print)

Books2Read

The Inn on Gooseneck Lane

Amazon (also in print)

                    Barnes & Noble (also in print)

                     Apple Books (also in print)

 ~ cottages to cabins ~ keep the home fires burning ~

Delsora Lowe writes small town sweet and spicy romances and contemporary westerns, from the mountains of Colorado to the shores of Maine.

Author of the Starlight Grille series, Serenity Harbor Maine novellas, and the Cowboys of Mineral Springs series, Lowe has also authored short romances for Woman’s World magazine (most recently, an Easter romance in the April 1, 2024 edition.) The Love Left Behind is a Hartford Estates, R.I. wedding novella with Book 2 on the way. A Christmas novel (The Inn at Gooseneck Lane) and novella (Holiday Hitchhiker – the youngest brother of the Mineral Spring’s ranching family) were the most recent releases. Look for book 3 of the cowboy’s series, as well as book 2 of the Hartford Estates series, to be released in 2025.

Photo Attributions:
Imagination: https://clipart-library.com/imagination-cliparts.html
Thinking: thinking face icon yellow PNG file 9687643 PNG
Dog on Couch, Neighborhood, Cows, Road Sign: Photos taken by author

Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Delsora-Lowe/e/B01M61OM39/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
Books2Read Author page: https://www.books2read.com/ap/8GWm98/Delsora-Lowe
BookBub Author Page: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/delsora-lowe-93c6987f-129d-483d-9f5a-abe603876518
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16045986.Delsora_Lowe

HEAVENLY HOT AIR BALLOONS by Sarah Raplee

 

SARAH RAPLEE

count 
Hi, I'm paranormal romance author Sarah Raplee. This is a re-post because I am on vacation.

The amazing, magical, loving, and slightly freaky way my father comforted me from the Other Side (of death, for those of you without access to tv, radio, print media, or the internet) while my mother hovered on the brink of death was a life-changing experience for me. He had died six years before, but he proved he's still around, keeping an eye on his loved ones.

* Keep in mind what some tv character on some show I once watched said: "One connection to an event is a coincidence, two is a pattern, three is a plan."

When my husband and I arrived the day after Mom was admitted to the hospital with a life-threatening infection, we introduced ourselves to her nurse, Diana. Not Diane, Diana. 

My only sister is named Diana. I smiled at the coincidence.

Later, Mom's condition worsened. She was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit. Her new nurse was named Sally. That's my childhood nickname. Dad always called me Sally.

I remember thinking, O-kay, Dad, is this your doing?

The next day I received a resounding, "Yes."

The new nurse on duty was named Catherine. Guess what Mom's name is? Yup! She never goes by Cathy, always Catherine. With a 'C'. Just like her nurse!

I found it comforting that Dad was watching over Mom and would be there if she lost the battle with the killer bacteria.

Another nurse was named Lisa, like Dad's eldest granddaughter. The hunky male nurse was Dave, like my daughter's first husband, who was a professional pilot like my father. Another of Mom's nurses was Amy, which was an inside joke that I'm not going to explain. Apparently people keep a sense of humor in the Afterlife.

Dad loved to fly almost as much as he loved his family. When he was dying of cancer, he hoped to regain enough strength to soar above Oregon’s high desert one more time—in a hot air balloon. Unfortunately, he was too sick to accomplish his goal.

Fast forward to six months after and two thousand miles away from his death to my youngest son’s house in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. The kids had climbed in bed with their parents because it was a Sunday morning. No one had to get up early.

Then the danged Siamese cat jumped onto the bed. Instead of pouncing on someone to wake them up, he ignored them all as he walked across them to the headboard and stood on his hind legs to peer through the window into the back yard. Whipping his tail back and forth, he yowled like a banshee. Three-year-old Lily stood up to see what had scared him. “Mommy, Daddy, look! Look!” 

Her parents sat up and checked out the back yard. A rainbow-striped hot air balloon was landing - in their back yard! How often does that happen???

Back to my mother’s hospital room. Dr. Boddie (pronounced body - ain't that a hoot?) explains that my mom’s condition is deteriorating. Her infection may have spread into her spinal fluid, causing meningitis. He needs to do a spinal tap to be sure so he will know how to proceed with her treatment.

I held Mom’s hand as they rolled her to a procedure room where they would draw fluid from her spinal canal. My throat ached with fear. I closed my eyes and mentally reached out into the ether. Tell me she’s going to be all right, Dad. We stopped. I opened my eyes and looked inside the procedure room.

A poster of five hot air balloons soaring high above the ground greeted me. 

I knew Mom would make it. After a stay in the Intensive Care Unit, she did.

I've learned that messages from the Next Life don’t usually come in the form of email, snail mail, or phone calls (but I’ve learned to never say never). 

No doubt the Afterlife  has immutable Laws that govern one’s actions, just as in this life gravity happens, fire burns and in a vacuum, no one can hear you scream. That doesn’t mean the people who have moved on from this earthly plane don’t try to offer comfort, assistance, and the occasional laugh to their loved ones.

It means they have to get creative - and we have to pay attention.