We’re coming up on the 13th anniversary of this column, which means I’ve written some 675 weekly columns, give or take a few weeks when I didn’t feel like it.
I’ve been fortunate to have some loyal readers along the way, who often offer kind comments about the words I string together here. But there’s one question that invariably comes up, and it happens two or three times a week: “How do you come up with the ideas for your column?"
It's not an easy question to answer.
A lot of things can motivate me. I just write one column a week, and almost anything I see, hear or read can be turned into this little weekly effort. I'm seldom at a loss for ideas.
The most likely source of column fodder comes from spending time and conversing with friends and family. Often something someone says – even if it's just one sentence – can be enough to spur my creative juices.
Still, my friends are on to the fact that I may turn something they say or do into a column, and now, without fail, when one of them says something funny or profound, they immediately turn and look in my direction.
"I don't want to read about this in your column," they'll say.
"Too bad," I tell them. "I need 600 words a week, and I'll take whatever motivates me."
Another way I get ideas is by reading the news. A story about a new diet fad or about some new scientific study is often just what I need to meet by column obligations.
For instance, a few years ago, I read a story about a group of Norwegian scientists who discovered that older siblings had slightly higher IQs than their younger siblings, and I turned that into a column about how that meant I was smarter than my brother, Marvin.
Other times, I may write about Milly, the liver and white springer spaniel who lives at my house. She's a good source of column material.
All of that bring us to this week. I got nothing. Not a single, solitary idea. The well is dry. I've been writing this column for a while now. I've had weeks where it was tough coming up with an idea. But I've never had a week where I had no idea.
But as I write this, deadline is approaching. That's fine. I'm the editor. Let 'em wait.
Milly, bless her silly heart, has done nothing remotely funny or interesting this week. There's really been nothing in the news that sparked my interest. And my friends, fearing incrimination in the newspaper, essentially have stopped talking to me.
Sure, there were a couple of stories this week that had potential. Did you hear the moon is shrinking? It's true. But I could only think of a few things to say about that, leaving me some 550 words short.
Then there is the story that most of this year's college freshmen have never used a phone with a cord. There was real potential in this idea. But the more I wrote, the more I become depressed at how old I must be getting. Not only did I use corded phones, I still remember rotary dial phones.
Well, I've managed to fill up this spot, even without an idea. Thank you for sticking with me today – and for 13 years. I'll do better next week. In fact, I'm going home right now to talk to Milly.
She needs to deliver next week.
