The simple answer is: I don’t know.
I have always visited my imagination. When playing with dolls, toy animals, stuffed animals, a vague memory of a magnetic city where we had poles under the table which moved the cars and people around, and books. These are just a few areas I remember always having my own stories and worlds.
The toy animals had their set families. Some animals were teachers and each little one went to a certain grade. The littlest ones…a black pig, baby elephant (from the Disney Jungle Book movie), and a calf…they were the ones having adventures. I still have them.
The dolls. Well, when one has a camper and airplane you can imagine the adventures they went on. Yup, lost in outer space. Crashed on an island filled with monsters.
I don’t remember the first story I wrote, but my grandmother said I was putting on shows and telling stories since I was three. Who’s going to argue with my grandmother.
Simply put, I don’t know where my ideas come from, they’ve been a part of me since memory.
Right now, they’re voices screaming out of my fingers on the keyboard. I’m not saying they all make sense. Some are silly and some are downright scary. Others, well, they all are parts of me.
Hmm, maybe a fiction writer is the person tapped into their counterparts from worlds living parallel to our own. Our stories are just the telling of the lives our other selves are living.
Now if that’s the case, maybe there’s a few stories I shouldn’t write. On the other hand, maybe the only way to keep the parallel world alive is by writing their stories. Maybe one of my counterparts is writing my story…right now.
Hmm…where did this idea come from?
Hey, this could lead to some spooky speculation. I think most writers are blessed (or is that cursed) with an imagination that delves deep into the cranium. Into areas we're not even aware of, where these characters work out their angst. When they surface, they already have the makings of a story or at least a plot.
PD
Thanks, Pat. Yup, agree. I've always said my mind was a scary place to be. It explains why the family looks at me strangely some days 😉
You know, one of my friends told me about a medical documentary that interpreted a brain scan to show that the brains of "artists" (musicians, writers, painters, etc.) were actually hard-wired differently than those with a more scientific, mathamatical bent. Literally. The thought processes were entirely different, routed through different portions of the brain. Don't know about y'all, but I believe it.
Oh I think I'm living proof of it. My thinking is so out of left field it's hitting right field on its way back. Interesting.
Sounds like a description of me!
You know, Gail, that could be scary LOL