A Story Idea Each Day for a Month — Day 20
This is the 11th year in a row I’ve run this series in April. Why a story idea each day for the month? Because the best way to come up with…
This is the 11th year in a row I’ve run this series in April. Why a story idea each day for the month? Because the best way to come up with a great story idea is to come up with a lot of ideas. And the best way to come up with a lot of ideas is to be proactive in sourcing story ideas.
Today’s story: A Chance to Bond on a Perilous Hiking Trail in Iceland.
As his son gets older and more independent, a father seizes the chance to keep their relationship relevant.

It was the promise of danger that enticed my 11-year-old son. Sebastian, my oldest child, has grown up reading fantasy novels and watching “Lord of the Rings,” so he knows every inch of Frodo and Sam’s journey, from the Dead Marshes to Mount Doom. So this is how I sold it: We were going to Mordor. We would be crossing snowy mountain passes, black sand deserts, raging rivers and hot, acidic mud pits. It would be a fantastic adventure, with a small chance of death.
Naturally, my wife bristled at the mention of mortality. “This wouldn’t happen,” I assured her (repeatedly), but its ever-so-faint possibility was crucial to the magic of the endeavor. We weren’t playing on the Xbox. This was real. We were headed to the remote, volcanic highlands of Iceland — and together we would live to tell the story. Salesmanship. It’s a vastly underappreciated facet of parenting.
It was, of course, something of a conceit. I like hiking and acidic mud pits as much as the next man, but what I really wanted was time with my son. For months, I had been sensing that he was at a precarious age — no longer child, but not quite teenager — and I could feel the steady tug of adolescence, like gravity, pulling him away from me.
All of it was quite age-appropriate. (How was your day? “Good.” What do you talk about with your buddies? “Dunno.”) I wanted more, but there always seemed to be homework, soccer games, track meets, sleepovers, band practice, you name it — it’s insane really, the number of obligations that we cram into our children’s lives until we’re all collectively exhausted.
Then one night, as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding, acutely aware of time slipping away, I grabbed my iPhone and booked two tickets to Iceland. No, I didn’t want travel insurance. We were going.
We were headed to Landmannalaugar, a remote outpost in southern Iceland. This was the start of the Laugavegur Trail, a 34-mile trek through an astounding diversity of terrain — all of Middle-earth (minus the orcs) — plus, according to our guidebook, there was a shack, somewhere in the middle, that served beer. The plan was to do it in four days and to stay in huts along the way.
Let’s gender-bend this: Rosa, a single mother of two adolescents, Adrian and Valencia, decides to swoop up her kids and do this hike as a bonding exercise. Both teens have gotten into trouble lately, one academic issues at school, the other busted for illegal drug use. Moreover, Rosa feels her kids are slipping away from her.
As opposed to the relatively harmless journey the writer of the article had with his son, this story will have some bad stuff go down, making this a survival story. Perhaps it’s inclement weather, maybe there’s a weird guy tailing them posing a threat. One or more of the family members can suffer and significant injury.
What happens to the three? Do they bond or break apart? Happy ending… or a dark one?
There you go, my 19th story idea of the month. What would YOU do with it?
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18
Day 19
Each day in April, I invite you to join me in comments to do some brainstorming. Take each day’s story idea and see what it can become when we play around with it. These are valuable skills for a writer to develop.
See you in RESPONSES to hear YOUR take on this story idea. And come back tomorrow for another Story Idea Each Day For A Month.