Writing
I've come to the conclusion (again) that when I write I get something from the act of writing more than from the written product.
Let me give you an example. I created a story on my way to California when I was 10. I imagined a family of a father, one daughter and three sons. They had just lost the mother (to what, I don't remember) and the daughter was re-adjusting to life as the woman in the house. She took over her mother's former duties, including that of caring for her youngest brother with special needs (again, the details have escaped me.)
I came up with the story early on our roadtrip, and I merely pictured it as I stared out the window at endless fields and highways. I would stop the story with our rest stops, and pick it up again when we were on the road again, just as if I were reading a novel.
Yes, I was an imaginative 10-year-old. I was also hopelessly romantic. But the point here is not that I created a story, but that I used my imagination to soothe myself. During the roadtrip it was simply to pass the time so as to leave little opportunity for boredom.
Most of the time, my stories served to distance myself from more serious problems. So while I will probably never be a published author, I will at least have a reason to create.
Incidentally, I thought I had invented the name I gave to my main character, but I met a girl at Pacific with the same name. It was surreal, like meeting an imaginary friend.
Let me give you an example. I created a story on my way to California when I was 10. I imagined a family of a father, one daughter and three sons. They had just lost the mother (to what, I don't remember) and the daughter was re-adjusting to life as the woman in the house. She took over her mother's former duties, including that of caring for her youngest brother with special needs (again, the details have escaped me.)
I came up with the story early on our roadtrip, and I merely pictured it as I stared out the window at endless fields and highways. I would stop the story with our rest stops, and pick it up again when we were on the road again, just as if I were reading a novel.
Yes, I was an imaginative 10-year-old. I was also hopelessly romantic. But the point here is not that I created a story, but that I used my imagination to soothe myself. During the roadtrip it was simply to pass the time so as to leave little opportunity for boredom.
Most of the time, my stories served to distance myself from more serious problems. So while I will probably never be a published author, I will at least have a reason to create.
Incidentally, I thought I had invented the name I gave to my main character, but I met a girl at Pacific with the same name. It was surreal, like meeting an imaginary friend.