Every now and then, I’ll read or see something that stirs up creativity like one of those old water vortex jugs you used to make as a kid, with ideas swirling in violent circles. For me, this usually boils down to a handful of movies or stories that always make me yearn to create my own. But occasionally, it’s something different.

Take this story from the L.A. Times today, which spins the tale of a buried ship at the World Trade Center, just discovered this week. Damon Lindelof linked to it on his Twitter account with a joke about the Black Rock and Lost, but my mind went different places.

It’s strange, I know, but I desperately wanted to write a goofy story about it, just to take a break from Seven Sons and the recent bout of writer’s block that I’ve been dealing with in that arena.

What’s funny is that when I was a kid, I wrote about 20-30 pages of a story called The Sewer, about a magical sewer that acted as a portal between this world and another, perhaps an alternate dimension or even the future. I don’t remember all the details, but the main character looked like Bishop from X-Men, and him and his friends shot dinosaurs that ran out into the city. It was going to be awesome, but I decided to play video games instead. That was the beginning of my life as a writer, and not much changed for nearly two decades.

When I read the story about the buried ship, I immediately thought of that old story of mine and imagined pirates spilling out onto the streets of New York City. Buried and cursed, these ruffians have been lying in wait since the 18th century, keen to take revenge on whatever forces bound them to this underground vessel in the first place. What treasures would they be guarding? And what else might be buried under there with them? Perhaps something darker lives in the sewers beyond, even.

As I mentioned earlier, I have had a horrid case of writer’s block over the last couple of weeks. I don’t know if it’s that Web Zeroes is over and my motor finally puttered out, or if it’s part of the mid-story slump, or perhaps a combination of both of those. Last night, I finally made some headway back into the book after watching The Prestige, one of those aforementioned movies that tends to make me swell with creativity, mainly due to its structure and its pace.

But writer’s block has an awful way of hanging around like that awkward party guest, spending time near the drinks and cornering you every time you so much as look his way. I’m thinking the next time it strikes, I’ll need some ideas to mix things up a little bit. Who knows, maybe a dumb writing exercise about sewer pirates would be enough to help me through the next bout.

What about you guys? Anybody have any creative ways to get through writer’s block?