It is the curse of those with writer’s minds that we invent possibilities. Alternative realities and back stories to all the events in our lives until it can be difficult to tell which is real and which is pure fairy tale. These stories weave in and out of everyday life and fork in both pleasant and unpleasant directions. These stories – these worlds, to the writer, and not just lands of make believe, but they exist. They are flesh and have feelings and emotions and voice and consequence. So how are our friends and family supposed to react when we exercise our nature based on these waking dreams? When we construct our own worlds upon the building blocks of our imagination instead of with the obvious materials they see before them?
This is constant problem. And I am glad to know that it doesn’t just happened to me. With any luck we are just labeled “eccentric”, given a pat on the shoulder and humored a bit. That is what I am hoping for anyway!
The other thing is, and I didn’t realize this until recently, is that those who are driven to write often do it to get something out of their heads. Honestly, I had thought this only applied to me. But, I have found that other too have no choice but to write because if they don’t then that scene or phrase or voice will stay in their heads forever. It will be in their just kicking, screaming, and banging on to the side of the skull. So the writer has to write. Has to get it out. But, and here is the odd part, once it is out the details can be forgotten. And they often are. So when later, a few days or a few years, they are asked about what they wrote, the writer will often stare blankly.