The Writer's Imagination

Having a writer’s imagination can sometimes be a real nuisance. For example, late at night, or even when I’m alone during the day at home or at the office, my imagination takes off, usually in a frightening direction. I have even scared myself by telling a made-up ghost story to others.

The times when I most dislike having a vivid imagination is when my husband is either late or out of town. I begin imagining all kinds of perils befalling him and how he’s dealing with them. I imagine what I would do or how I would react if something tragic occurred. I envision the reaction of our children, of his family, of his funeral, of how I’d try to pick up the pieces of my life and go on. Then, when he safely pulls into the driveway, I breathe a sigh of relief and welcome him home.

But having a wild imagination can also be good. I can entertain children with silly stories. I can look at a picture, or listen to a piece of music and create an entire novel. Before I do any public speaking, I can (sometimes) fool myself into believing the room is filled with adoring fans just dying to meet me, when what I really want is to hide. I can also keep myself amused while doing mundane things or if I’m stuck waiting somewhere. At such times, I’d rather read a book, but if I find myself with time to kill, I can invent stories right on the spot. It’s a great boredom buster. Now, if I could only teach my children to use their imagination instead of playing video games!