Have you ever wanted to—as a writer—wanted to come up with something completely new? I know I have. But whenever I read a book and feel inspired with new ideas, I want to write about something similar to what was in that book. For example, if I read a book about a steam-punk world, I want to write a book about a steam-punk world. If I read a book about floating cities, I want to write about floating cities, even if they’re floating by a different means (example: instead of being lifted by a giant balloon, they are suspended by magnetism). I want to think of something completely new. Something no one’s ever thought of before. Something that I developed in my mind that I didn’t just read or hear about in a book.
The book The Sky Riders is such an awesome example of this. I bet no one thought to mix giant blimp-like ships with floating cities with riding giant birds. I bet no one thought of mixing flying wolves with cranky Inventors with crossbow-wielding police. No one but Christopher Hopper, the author.
Take this other example. In the book Raising Dragons by Bryan Davis, dragons and the fantasy of King Arthur are mixed with modern times. Dragon-slayers roam present day and attempt to kill all dragons, and Davis even cleverly fits God, the completely real Creator of the universe into it. See how that works?
I want ideas like that, where I can see something an put it in a story, mixing it with other ideas of my own. This can go for setting, characters, and most importantly plot. That’s where I’m worst at. Plots. The last two books I wrote—Heir of Elves and Draegor’s Kill (ex-The Griffin Lord)—have similar plots, and those basically came from Hopper and Batson’s epic trilogy Berinfell Prophecies. That means that basically both those plots of my stories aren’t mine, which is incredibly lame. And that’s what I feel. My stories are a collection of ideas that aren’t mine or similar to those of other authors. Either that or the plot is so incredibly simple, even if I made it up myself.
I feel strange saying all this, but I this is just how I feel. Within the last few days I’ve been wondering whether writing is for me or I just like stories so much I just want to pen my own, when really the stories aren’t my own. My mind is mess of thoughts right now. I can’t even effectively write what I’m thinking.
I hope that soon I’ll think of something completely mine. A mix of so many things that I thought of on my own. I hope I can create a world of fantasy that has nothing to do with any other. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll do the same with a plot so stunning that someone that I don’t know may actually like my book.