Where Do Story Ideas Come From?

“Human history is, in essence, a history of ideas.”

H.G. Wells

Here's the truth of it: Virtually everything human beings ever invented started with - drum roll, please - a story.

Airplanes, bubble gum, the internet, democracy, the decision to get (or not get) married, the fact that milk somehow costs seven dollars now. The whole ball of wax started with someone telling a story. Even if it was just to themselves.

Stories quite literally built the world.

And here’s the coolest part: human beings are the only species we know of that can conceive and invent things that did not, hitherto, exist.

Historian and sociologist Yuval Noah Harari explores this at length in his 2011 classic, Sapiens. Nations, laws, empires, money, political systems, amazing digital circuses, you name it - all conceived, bounced around, and played with before ever being conjured into existence.

I've made the argument before, but I'll say it again: I believe story is the most powerful force on earth. Which means storytellers (that's you and me) are basically gods. Lower case "g" gods, okay - but gods, nonetheless.

If there was any question about the ubiquitous and all-encompassing role that story plays in our lives, just think about the day you had before picking up this book.

As you woke, you played back a dream you had (story).

You headed off to work, thinking about how you were going to ask for that promotion and why you think you deserve it (story).

You arrived and asked your boss how she’s doing, and how did she answer? With a story, naturally.

Coffee time and what did you get from your colleagues? Stories. Chit chat with customers? More stories. Called your mom at lunchtime? You know the answer.

Ride home from work? Camping trip with the family? Church? Shopping mall? Uncle Bob telling one of his cringy jokes at Thanksgiving dinner? And your final thoughts after you put your phone away and hit the pillow?

Stories. Everywhere you go. You couldn’t escape them if you tried. And you didn’t need a single book or film to do it. It’s what we do. It’s who we are.

And yet, when many of us try to drum up a story idea to craft into a zesty narrative, we go completely cross-eyed. "I thought you said storytelling was as natural as breathing, Mr. Harari?"

Cutting right to the chase, here are six places you'll almost certainly find what you're looking for.

1. Your Own Life

I'll never forget the time a close friend of mine lamented his apparent dearth of imagination over a symbolically lukewarm glass of Chardonnay.

"Why not pull something from your own life?" I suggested.

"Ah, my life is boring," he moaned. "I haven't done anything interesting. Well, except for that one time I drove into an elk, then spent the next two hours trying to drag it to the side of the road while narrowly avoiding oncoming traffic, then had to walk home and explain to my wife that I wasn't secretly having an affair and that's why I wasn't late for dinner."

"You hear yourself, right?" I asked, while retrieving my jaw from the floor.

Many of us have a tendency to woefully undervalue our own experience. But stop and think about the big moments that changed you. Don't worry, I'll wait.

That big risk you took. The lover that broke your heart. The teacher that gave you a whole new sense of purpose. The job that nearly broke you. The elk you hit on the way home. I'm looking at you, Steve.

All of those experiences are chock-full of the essential ingredients of a story: conflict, emotion, stakes, and lessons learned along the way. And yes, despite how "boring" you think you are, other people would love to hear them.

If you need a little help, check out my 7 You Prompts workbook.

2. Watching People

Don't tell me you've never sat in a coffee shop and listened to the conversation taking place beside you while you pretended to scroll through your phone. Voyeuristic? Probably. Nosy? Obviously. Loaded with story possibilities? Definitely.

All you need is paper and pen. Or your notes app. Just don't be weird about it.

3. Other Stories

Many writers tie themselves up in knots thinking they have to be utterly and completely original. That borrowing from existing stories - movies, TV shows, books, podcasts - is somehow antithetical to authentic artistry. "My story idea must be entirely novel, totally unique, never been done before!"

Spoiler alert: that's literally never been true.

Mozart's first dozen concertos were riffs on work by other composers. Shakespeare regularly lifted plots from earlier writers. Blockbusters regularly borrow themes and narrative patterns from previous films. Armageddon wasn't the first "meteor headed for earth" movie in 1998. It wasn't even the only "meteor headed for earth" movie that year! (Hello, Deep Impact.)

Narrative psychologists have demonstrated over and over again that, to borrow a phrase from Blake Snyder, "people want the same, but different." We want a certain degree of comforting familiarity; we just want it to have a unique spin, a few satisfying surprises, a twist we didn't see coming.

That's why some of us chase roller coasters and haunted houses our entire lives, despite having experienced the associated thrills and chills a dozen times before. We want the same, but different.

Contrary to our self-inflicted sense of need to be "completely original", most audiences don’t demand something that has never existed before. What they want is a fresh perspective on something recognizable.

So try this. Next time you watch your favourite show, let your imagination run free by asking:

What if this character made a different choice?

What if this story took place somewhere completely different?

What if the villain had a point or didn't get her comeuppance?

What if I dropped this tale into a completely different genre?

4. The News

Especially these days. Sheesh.

Power struggles, scandals, disasters, moral dilemmas, acts of tremendous courage, competing acts of brainless stupidity - it’s all there.

Go ahead, spend half an hour taking notes on what's going on out there in the world. Pay attention to the human stories playing beneath the headlines: the characters, the decisions they make, the fears or other emotions motivating their actions, and what comes of it.

Bonus points: Pay attention to your own reactions as you read. What makes you angry? What fascinates you? What makes you laugh? What makes you cry? If it affects you that way, just imagine how it will affect your audience.

5. What People Are Talking About

The news may tell us what's happening, but it's the conversations we have about those events that reveal what matters to us.

Yes, I'm talking about zeitgeist - i.e. "the defining spirit or mood of a particular period of history as shown by the ideas and beliefs of the time." What topics perennially pop up in your discussions with friends, colleagues, or total strangers? What concerns, frustrations, hopes, and dreams keep rising to the surface?

Pandemics, the environment, anxiety around technology, housing affordability, mental health, political polarization, dating, immigration, generational divides, just to name a few. You're welcome.

Author Anaïs Nin once wrote that a good share of her ideas arrived not while sitting at her desk, but “in the midst of living.” Truer words were never spoken.

6. What Matters to You

And finally, take a look the mirror.

What do you care about - I mean, deeply? What frustrates you about the world? What do you wish people understood better? If you could reinvent the world, what would it look like?

There are at least two reasons why this may be the most important starting point of all. First, it's more likely you'll be filled with the genuine passion and enthusiasm you're looking for as you write. Second, all that positive energy will fuel the momentum you need to actually finish writing what you started.

After all, stories are like roommates: You're going to have to live with this thing for a while, so you should probably like it.

The idea you're looking for may be just an observation away. So turn on that story radar and start observing.