I don’t have the foggiest clue what this is going to be about. This happens to me sometimes, I just start writing with no idea what’s going to come of it. It’s like jumping in the car with no idea where you might end up. You just take off – windows down, radio up, speeding off into an overused metaphor.
I’ve often found myself comparing writing with driving; and, for some reason, when I write I really do feel like I’m moving. Perhaps it’s the sense of adventure I get when I start putting words together – I see these sentences and ideas taking shape and becoming something that didn’t exist seconds ago. Suddenly, I’m swept away into this world of my own invention. It’s a place populated by my imagination; nothing and no one is here without an invitation. My mind races through this brand new world of its own accord, carrying me along for the ride.
I write a lot of fiction – short stories, a play, I’ve even tried my hand at screen writing. I’d start writing, usually in the evening, and, often, I wouldn’t stop until dawn. As I worked, I’d find myself pushing back from the desk, standing up to stare at the computer screen from a different angle. I’d pace the room with my fingers in my hair, reading a print out of the last few pages, so excited about what would happen next that I could barely sit still long enough to write it.
Needless to say, it took a lot of energy to finish a project.
I’ve found that creativity is almost a possession; the work takes over, and you’re not your own again until it’s done. For better or worse, you’re bound to culminate the idea or it will never let you be. It may sound a little scary, but it’s the biggest thrill in the world.
So, when I sit down to write with no idea what’s going to happen, it’s electric. I know I’m in for the ride of my life and there’s no telling where I’ll end up.