The crows are going nuts outside my window.
Dozens of them, flitting in and out of one particular tree, all screaming their heads off. And I have no idea why.
Normally this would bother me. After all, I was in the middle of writing the second book of the William Whitehall Adventures, and a massive clamoring of crows is hardly conducive to good writing.
Or is it? I must admit I was intrigued. Crows are interesting creatures at any time, and a lot like humans in many ways: they can be social or solitary, they’re smart, they can carry a grudge, and they love to play jokes. But when they start behaving bizarrely it’s hard to look away. Seriously, it was like an angry town hall meeting, and I wondered who or what they were angry about. Do crows have politicians? Trials? Public auctions?
Anyway, it struck me that this is how aspiring writers are taught to begin a story. Show something a little out of the ordinary, and leave out just enough information to leave the reader curious to know more. As a writer, this sort of event is gold, because it really gets the imagination going. I don’t need to know the real answer behind the mystery, because I can just make up my own.
I suppose I should try to tie this to some Important Message, but honestly I just found it interesting. No agenda to share—except that maybe my next series will be about crows.