Less Than Pulp, Issue 41
On Finding Ideas That Work
What is up, friends? Thank you for stopping by for the 41st issue of Less Than Pulp, a newsletter for family and friends, fans of my books, and the curious. You can check out previous issues here.
This was a good week.
I've made it no secret over the past few months about my intentions to dive into a longer project. Specifically, something novel-length. There have been some promising ideas, some I didn't fully explore due to more pressing work, life getting in the way, or simply the works themselves needing more time to marinate in the brain pan. But this week, I landed on something that's excited me like no other long-form idea since, shit, maybe Pandemonium? It's got an energy about it. It's got several characters with conflicting goals. It's got theme. You know. Novel shit!
And because I’m superstitious about this sort of thing, that's all I'm going to say for right now.
It does, however, give me the opportunity to talk this week about finding ideas and knowing which ones are good, which ones are bad, and which ones simply need more time. I'm going to let you know right out the gate that your mileage may vary and (perhaps even more distressing) something that worked for you once might not work for you every time. Take the first approach, for example.
First idea, best idea. Sometimes, I land on a concept I just know is special. From the inkling, I get a title, a main character, some story beats, and an overall tone, all in a relatively short amount of time. Sometimes I don't get all of that from the inkling, but I do get a feeling about an idea. Sometimes that happens even if all I have is a title. It’s always exciting when this happens, and I wish it happened more often. How do I tell if my first idea is my best idea? It’s hard to say, but when I know I know.
First idea, worst idea. You didn't think I'd do a writing advice article without contradicting myself, did you? Here’s the thing about first ideas: if it’s something you land on right away, there’s a good chance someone else already thought of it. Perhaps they even already wrote or published it. For your third or fourth idea, that’s a lot less likely. If you’re concerned about this, keep brainstorming. You don’t want to wind up accidentally ripping someone off.
Unless…
Steal your idea. You may think I’m just trolling you at this point, but I’m completely serious. If another work inspires you, think about how you can take a similar concept and make it different. For example, John Carpenter’s The Fog is one of my all-time favorite horror movies. It’s about a town under attack by undead pirates as a dense fog rolls in on the night of its centennial celebration. The pirates were left to die in a fog bank by the town’s founders. My book Snow Angels is about a small town under attack by undead convicts during a blizzard. The convicts were left to die in a blizzard thirty years prior. Its concept is just different enough from The Fog, and the characters are completely original, so I was able to write a fun book inspired by a concept I liked without getting into any sort of legal trouble.
Find a cowriter. I was hesitant to put this one on the list because I only recommend collaborating with another author if both of you are a) experienced, and b) capable of leaving your ego at the door. My ego tends to come and go. Right now, I’m in a place where I need to work on a long-form, solo project. However, two of my most enjoyable writing experiences were collaborations. I wrote the aforementioned Pandemonium with Ryan Harding, and The Final Gate was written with Wesley Southard. I’ve got a few others in the works that I hope to return to soon. A good collaborator can be helpful with finding ideas because they become your sounding board, and you become theirs. I have a lot more to say about collaboration, but that’s something I’d like to reserve for a full newsletter.
Immerse yourself in a vibe or aesthetic. Maybe you like classic cars, or maybe you’re a fan of art history. If you know you want to write a book involving either of those, then immerse yourself. Go to auto shows or art museums. Read a lot and watch a lot about the thing you like. The idea might not come right away, but when it does, you’ll have a ready-made vibe. For example, I’m a lifelong professional wrestling fan, so when I started writing seriously, I knew a book set in that world was inevitable. However, Ryan and I didn’t start writing Pandemonium until 2019. The inspiration came from combining two aesthetics; along with wrestling, the Dario Argento-produced Demons provided an overall framework with which Ryan and I could flesh out our ideas.
These are some of the ways I come up with concepts. Some of these methods can even be combined, depending on the piece. Yes, even the apparent contradictions can work together. First idea, best idea may be how you come up with your title and overall tone, but the way you tell the story may see you discarding many first ideas in exchange for third or fourth ideas. And a cowriter doesn’t necessarily need to be someone who writes the book with you; it can simply be a brainstorming partner.
Anyway, I know I have a lot of writers who subscribe. If that’s you, I hope you found this advice helpful.
A friend shared this audio cassette recording of the audience reaction to select scenes from a Dawn of the Dead screening back in 1979. It’s pretty damn cool that this exists. You can check it out here. The video is age-restricted, but we’re all adults.
On the Patreon for Make Your Own Damn Podcast, I wrote an essay on Skinamarink and liminal space in horror movies. You can read it for just $1 right here.
Currently reading: Splatterpunks: Extreme Horror, edited by Paul M. Sammon (re-read); Toxic by Judith Sonnet; and True Indie by Don Coscarelli.
Currently watching: Hack-O-Lantern (1989); Blood Harvest (1987).
I have two more stories due this year. Both editors have asked for classic splatterpunk, which is why I’m revisiting the Sammon anthology. I’ll probably revisit the Skipp and Spector Book of the Dead anthologies next.
Toxic is a collection of extreme horror. Judith stands out from the current crop for one important reason: she’s a damn good writer. Her prose has a musicality to it that brings a highbrow elegance to even her most disgusting scenes. If you’re not reading her yet, you’re fucking up!
I’m withholding my thoughts on True Indie for now. I think it will be the subject of my next essay on the podcast’s Patreon as it’s all about life as an independent filmmaker.
Hack-O-Lantern is a satanic-themed slasher movie made by a Bollywood director and every bit as ridiculous as that description sounds. Blood Harvest is a truly bizarre work of 1980s slasher fare. It plays out like a dream a genre fan growing up in that era might have. These both were a lot of fun. They were also both set around barns. Am I immersing myself in a vibe?