Tuesday, February 01, 2011

How stories are born...

Did you know that I got the idea for Into the Woods while I was driving in my 4Runner and listening to "Eleanor Rigby" by the Beatles?

Yep, it's true. Listen to the words and see if you can figure it out. :)

I'll give you a hint:

Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
No one was saved

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

I love the song, very poignant. And it made me think....what if I started a book at a funeral where nobody came? Well, except for one of the heroes. He'd be standing there alone with the priest wondering why no one else but him gave enough of a damn about the person in the grave to show up.

Then he looks up and sees a mysterious person standing on a hill overlooking the cemetery watching the funeral...

I loved the image in my mind of the shadows of a cold evening settling in, the lone hero at the funeral, the stranger, also alone and isolated up on the hill...

And so Into the Woods was born. :)

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