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Writers are a different kind of animal. We can be sitting in
a crowd and see things other people (normal?) don’t notice. Emotions, facial expressions,
the simple act of society. We absorb and take note of these instances to use in
later scenes. But sometimes creativity is an elusive critter and we must hunt
it down, stalking it with eagle-eyed intensity.
I needed to compose a short story about one of my characters in Wilder Mage. I had no clue how Sable
discovered she was a mage. She wasn’t in a talkative mood and I was bone-dry.
I was raking the yard that day musing on several scenes and
rejecting them just as quickly. The air was still as a church when, thirty feet
in front of me, the wind kicked into a maelstrom of dust, leaves, bits of
grass, and corn stalks. A dust devil, a monstrous one that reached the tops
of our cedar trees. It was so large and violent, the wind roared like an
animal.
It came up the drive and across our wide lawn, hissing and
I laughed as it passed and was exhilarated because I knew I
had my opening scene to Out of Magic,
Sable’s discovery that she was something different.
Life events shape our writerly world. Sometimes it takes a
whirlwind to start the process. Other times creativity hits when I apply pen to
paper, longhand scribbling.
It is a brain function called reticular activating system or RAS. Writing longhand sets in
motion the creative portion of the mind, the RAS. It is a portal into our
subconscious.
Now, I didn’t know any of this highfalutin' brainy stuff
until I wondered why it was easier to write on a spiral notebook while on the
treadmill. Really, where would any of us be without Google, am I right?
No wonder I have mounds of notebooks, a veritable hoard
lurking in every part of my house awaiting the next magic to hit my RAS.
