I’ve always had a big imagination. As a kid I build things with Lego and imagined a world around them, be it an Earth bound or far out into space. I read a lot from the moment I could, expanding my world beyond the reality I lived in.
Even after I supposedly grew up, I never lost that spark of creativity, of yearning for a different time or world. Most of it would be science fiction since I leaned more toward technology than magic. And is shows in my writing.
Most of the things I write are grounded in technology. There are fantastic beasts, but they have a scientific origin. Outright magic doesn’t appear in any of my stories. I do have ideas that include magic, but it’s less than the hard reality of physics and biology.
So how do I write? I get my ideas from everyday occurrences, dreams, silly questions, absurd realities.
The basic is that there’s a question or situation which sticks in the whirlpool of my mind. It caches my attention, waves at me and delivers a convincing presentation on why I should invest in it.
Often it is just a simple thing. A why. A what if. And then I place characters in it. Plain, one dimension characters. They don’t have a background, a future, they just are, at present.
And they react.
Each in their own way.
I don’t tell then what to do, they act on their own. Some are nice, some are bad. I have nothing to do with it. They are the ones speaking their mind, taking action or staying put. I never guide them, nudge them in certain ways, I only record what they’re doing.
They wouldn’t listen to me anyway.
And then bits of their history are exposed. Childhood. Previous jobs. Past experiences. Pain. Relationships. Family.
What they tried to hide for eternity.
All I do is write down is what’s going on in the most unbiased way possible. So they are nice to others, ignore others or outright harm and kill others. I can’t do anything about any of it! I’m completely helpless in what they do!
Of course I cheer on the good guys, feel good when they help someone in need or feel disgusted when something bad happens, but what can I do? I’m a failed god, I’m seeing all but I’m powerless to do anything about it. It’s tearing at my soul just as much as yours.
I write to preserve the life of others.