Where do you get your ideas? people ask, as though they want the address of a store where they can buy Ideas in bulk, wrapped in plastic for durability.
With “IDEAS!” in eye-catching lettering on the package and a 40% discount.
But as far as I know, there is no such store.
So the inquirers are always disappointed by my response.
And truly, I don’t get my ideas anywhere. They find me.
They sneak in through windows and wait for me on street corners.
They hide at the bottoms of teacups and in between glasses of wine.
They harass me in the moments before sleep, curling up on my pillow like demanding cats and whispering in my ears.
They grow like weeds in my head and there is no escaping them.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.