When I write, I don’t feel as if I’m creating something. I’m getting something down on the paper instead. My brain produces a constant stream of movies set in my own worlds and populated with people born from my subconscious. Often, I do control them, like playing with dolls as a child (though I was usually more interested in anthropomorphizing plastic dinosaurs). I create situations for my characters to react to and base their reactions on what makes the most sense for them to be believable. But the best times are when they wrest control from logical thought and my imagination runs rampant.
I love it when my writing surprises me.
Those moments are when I understand what people mean by being a conduit for the stories to travel through. It feels like something outside of myself has taken over, a rush of energy and thought flowing through me that is other. The creative force is one of the headiest experiences of human existence.
I write because I must in order to be me. The feeling of connection to some great source of creativity is one of the most rewarding parts of the process.
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