Several people have asked me about my creative process. In all honesty, I don’t really have a creative process. I have never considered myself creative by any means. I am certainly no J.K. Rowling who created an entirely whole new world filled with wizards and magic. I am not Stephanie Meyer who ignited a world-wide infatuation by delving into the world of vampires and werewolves. I guess that is why I never thought about being a writer before. I could never create something that immense, that brilliant, that unique. But then I realized, I don’t need to create a whole new world or concept. I can just write something within the reality that I live in. Maybe my reality will spark something in an audience, big or small, that will make them want to join in my reality, that will make them want to read more.
It is amazing to see my characters, or my “imaginary friends” as I like to refer to them, come to life. Many times they end up doing something I never thought they would. When I sit down to write a chapter, I pretty much know how it is going to begin and how it is going to end. But at least 50% of the time, it dosen’t work out that way. They end up doing something that catches me by surprise and the chapter completely ends up going in another direction. They may be fictional, but they end up consuming my mind. It’s as if sometimes they are real and they are having a conversation with me telling me what it is that they are thinking, telling me what to write. It is inexplicable. It’s as if their story was already written and I am the one reading it just waiting to see what they will do next. It has definitely surprised me at how much fun writing can be.
With all of that said, let me introduce you to one of my imaginary friends Ryan:
“Ryan Boone reached for his left ring finger but nothing was there. He always played with his wedding band, but he wasn’t used to the fact that it was no longer there. It was a cold, rainy night in Baltimore in early March 2011, and he was sitting on the balcony of his rented condo watching the rain and listening to the thunder as the lightening lit up the sky. It was 2:00 a.m. and he was tired. He just finished filming for the day and he had to get up early for another long day of filming. But he couldn’t sleep. Ever since the divorce he had many sleepless nights. It had been six months but he still wasn’t quite over it yet. He never thought that he would be here at this point of his life: divorced at 34. He never thought that his marriage would have only lasted for two years. He was not the ladies man that the media made him out to be. He was a good man. He loved her and he tried to make it work. She was the one who didn’t try. But he didn’t care what everyone else thought. He knew the truth about himself and so did his family and closest friends.
The wind was picking up speed and the rain was starting to blow sideways. As the puddles started to form on the balcony floor, Ryan made his way inside, slipped off his saturated flip-flops, and turned on the television. Even though he was a professional actor, he never seemed to be too interested in watching TV. He would much rather get lost inside a good Stephen King novel, but right now he needed to find a way to get some sleep and he thought maybe the TV coupled with the sound of the rain thumping against the window was enough to serenade him to sleep. But not this time. After tossing and turning for almost a half-hour, he surrendered to his insomnia, reached for his phone and made a call to the one person who knew him best, the one person who always was there for him. It was late, but he knew she would answer. She always did.”
The she is Larkin, and I will introduce you to her at my next blog.