One thing about taking some time off writing any actual words of fiction: I’m being assailed by ideas.
I’ll be walking down the street, minding my own business, thinking about maybe changing my library books and getting a cup of coffee somewhere, and…WHUMP! Another idea for another novel. Right between the eyes, as if dropped by a passing carrier pigeon.
The problem is, of course, that I can’t possibly write all of them, not all at once. And also, they’re not fully-fledged ideas; they’re just concepts, and they need expanding, working out, living with before they can become anything as substantial as a book. They’re the one-line high concept things, rather than the actual story.
Anyway. Novelists are asked all the time, ‘Where do you get your ideas?’ And that is the answer.
They hit you from the sky like bird poop when you are on your way for a latte.