I’ve finally started writing one of the more recent sci/fi stories I’ve been playing with in my head. I wrote two pages yesterday. That’s the most I’ve written in over a decade.
It felt good.
I felt that rush of creation again. I felt myself become absorbed into the process of writing. The passage of time became a blur as my mind raced through the world I was creating. What did the story want ro reveal? Who are the people that inhabit the story? What kind of a world did they live in? What obstacle did they need to overcome? All of these questions and more raced through my mind as my fingers lightly danced across my keyboard.
I love the act of discovery. I love learning new things. I love when that switch in my brain flips and I get that beautiful and seductive “ah ha” moment that sends a rush of electricity lightly up the back of my neck. It’s like finding puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. It only encourages me to find more pieces that fit, until slowly but surely, the story begins to form.
What a thrill!
Some will tell you that being a writer is like being a god. I think it’s better than that. Gods, with their prescience, never know the joy of discovery that a writer feels. What could be worse than having all of the answers laid out for you?
I’m going to create my protagonist today. I haven’t decided if it’ll be male or female or what his/her attributes will be and I find that tremendously exciting. Who will I breath life into? What will their attributes be? How will their personal backstories impact the main plot? I don’t have any answers yet, and that’s the way it should be. More questions! More Discovery!
And tomorrow that might all change. Isn’t this great?