Why is it that every time I sit down to think of an idea for a story I encounter a brick wall? It's as if my mind knows that I am trying to be creative, so it blocks my every attempt, apparently only driven by spite and an intense desire to see me fail. Sometimes I feel like the little kid in the grocery store, screaming at my mother to get me the large bag of Reese's Pieces while everyone stares with disdain, only to realize that she won't buy it for me just because I won't shut the hell up.

Why doesn't my brain ever let me win? I take care of it. I feed it large portions of classic literature and Sudoku puzzles. Sure, Moby Dick may have done more harm than good, and maybe those epic beer pong battles didn't help matters either, but these aren't really valid reasons for my brain's self destructive nature.

I've spent a large portion of my life wondering why ideas won't come to me when I ask for them. I can spend hours, days, even years pondering an answer to a troubling question or searching for a brilliant short story idea, but I never get to a substantial resolution. I only come up with either more questions, or bland characters and dead end plots.

What my brain doesn't realize, and what I have no intention of letting it know, is that I found a way to trick it. That's right. I can outsmart my brain! There are certain times and places when it lets down its guard; it forgets that it's trying to screw me over, and that's when I go in for the kill.

The first place that I look for creativity is in the shower. Most people are only concerned with getting the soap on all the right parts as quickly as possible and then getting out of there. That might be a good idea if you're in the Army, but I find that creativity strikes me when I take my time. I don't know if it's the hot water on my shoulders, the steam that drifts into my nose and makes me lightheaded, or the fact that I'm completely naked, but in the shower I feel free to close my eyes and think clearly. Sure, it may take over half an hour, and there may be a spike in the water bill, but we can't really put a price on creativity.

My next scenario is a bit dangerous. It requires some bravery, but creative ideas are almost guaranteed to flow freely. Sometimes when I'm driving my car I will get into a zone. My eyes glaze over, I go into deep thought, and the outside world is shut out of my mind. It's in this zone when creativity hits me. I feel like I can solve any problem and come up with any new idea. When I snap out of my trance I find myself miles away from where I thought I was, with no recollection of how I got there. I don't know how I haven't run any red lights (maybe I have, who knows?) or committed manslaughter (knock on wood), but so far I've managed to stay on the right side of the penitentiary steel.

My bedroom, however, truly is where all the magic happens. When I find myself exhausted from fruitless attempts at creativity I always look forward to going to bed. That's right, to find inspiration I sleep. It is in that lucid transition period, when I have one foot grounded in reality and the other floating in the world of dreams that my mind becomes a blank canvas, willing to accept, and mix, both the mundane and the impossible together, combining to create a new, never before seen color that is uniquely mine.