Ideas aren't the problem. It's the QUALITY of the ideas...
I've been trying to develop original fiction ideas to work into larger stories. You know, attempting to write something outside of fan fiction. Like a grown up. Anyway, I saw a TikTok about the Nikumaroro Island theory of what happened to Amelia Earhart and it's burrowed into my brain. My mind whispered, "it's like a fandom with an establish cannon, but an open-ended conclusion..."
*eyeroll*
So. My brain burped up the concept that Amelia and Fred (her co-pilot) crashed in the South Pacific but within swimming distance of the island and they both made it ashore. Fred dies shortly afterwards (sorry buddy) leaving Amelia to fend for herself on a deserted island where no one is likely to find her which has a conspicuous lack of fresh water AND an overwhelming population of occasionally-carnivorous coconut crabs (Google them - they are nightmare fodder). Injured, despairing and probably sunburned to hell, Amelia soon discovers a new problem: the fricking crabs have a KING, and he has plans for Amelia. Our heroine is faced with a choice between inevitable death or a transmogrifying deal with a king of the deep in order to save her soul.
Don't worry, Crab King is sorta/sometimes sexy. This story will probably include body horror, magical realism, latent feminism, ecological issues, pirates, colonialist jerkwads, miscommunication, ancient Japanese history, and porn.
Anyway, because this is such a cracked idea, I wrote up a brief outline and sent it off to a writing partner to see if it was TOO WEIRD to indulge. But he just responded with, "CRAB FUCKERS UNITE! YEAH!!!!", so, I guess I'm doing this now. I wrote back and said this will be a test of my writer's remorse reflex and it was time to shame my ancestors, and he said that's the BEST reason to write anything.
The ideas may be bad, but the friends who urge me on with my dubious ideas are at least half the problem.
*eyeroll*
So. My brain burped up the concept that Amelia and Fred (her co-pilot) crashed in the South Pacific but within swimming distance of the island and they both made it ashore. Fred dies shortly afterwards (sorry buddy) leaving Amelia to fend for herself on a deserted island where no one is likely to find her which has a conspicuous lack of fresh water AND an overwhelming population of occasionally-carnivorous coconut crabs (Google them - they are nightmare fodder). Injured, despairing and probably sunburned to hell, Amelia soon discovers a new problem: the fricking crabs have a KING, and he has plans for Amelia. Our heroine is faced with a choice between inevitable death or a transmogrifying deal with a king of the deep in order to save her soul.
Don't worry, Crab King is sorta/sometimes sexy. This story will probably include body horror, magical realism, latent feminism, ecological issues, pirates, colonialist jerkwads, miscommunication, ancient Japanese history, and porn.
Anyway, because this is such a cracked idea, I wrote up a brief outline and sent it off to a writing partner to see if it was TOO WEIRD to indulge. But he just responded with, "CRAB FUCKERS UNITE! YEAH!!!!", so, I guess I'm doing this now. I wrote back and said this will be a test of my writer's remorse reflex and it was time to shame my ancestors, and he said that's the BEST reason to write anything.
The ideas may be bad, but the friends who urge me on with my dubious ideas are at least half the problem.