Sometimes I watch airplanes, so tiny far up in the sky, and think about all the people sitting there, some sleeping, some reading, some looking out a window, perhaps in my direction. All those people, coming and going, right now slowly descending toward an O’Hare gate, checking the time, preparing for what Chicago holds.
Or the ones heading out, heading somewhere else, somewhere that’s not here, almost any point on the globe. A mystery without a solution.
It’s these little wonderings that often evolve, grow into your genre, and plant the seeds not only for plot but for characters. Don’t only wonder “what if.”
Wonder “who if.”
Who would be on that plane if it’s going to Buffalo, New York? Who would be on that plane if it’s going to London? To Istanbul? To Seattle?
To the launch terminal city for a cruise through the Panama Canal?
To the launch terminal city for a cruise through the outer Milky Way?
What ifs are the planting flats of writers. But who ifs are the glass walls of the conservatory. You need them both to make your ideas flourish.
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