(Nods.) All good points, both of you. I agree that any one specific weird idea isn’t guaranteed to work, and the chances probably aren’t even high. No big deal! The whole point is to come up with a whole bunch of easy-to-try weird things and try them all whenever the opportunity arises. The more weird things I try, the more likely I am to hit something.
I think it was Terry Pratchett (in his satirical fantasy series Discworld, which is hilarious) who had a main character going into a country known for its mad scientists.
The main character is told, “Yeah, those inventors are madmen. Ninety-nine out of a hundred of their projects are a complete waste of time.”
The main character says, “Then why do people put up with them?”
“Because that one hundredth project can change everything.”
That’s my attitude about stuff like wide crosses. It’s unlikely to work, but as long as there’s a low barrier to entry (for instance, I already have the plants in order to eat them and they happen to be flowering at the same time), why not try it?
Usually when I’m writing books (I write lighthearted fantasy), the first idea I come up with is boring and has been done a million times. Also the second. And the third. It’s when I start getting to the tenth or twelfth that more original ideas start coming out. Sometimes it takes a lot longer. I usually don’t stop until I find something that makes me go, “Ooh, I’ve never seen that before, and I want to see that done well!” Then it’s worth my time to write that story.
This approach works great for humor. It also works great for other things. In fact, I think all creativity (including plant breeding) benefits from this sort of approach. I suspect John Cleese agrees with me:
I highly, highly, HIGHLY recommend watching the John Cleese lecture on creativity. It’s amazing.