Oh, the meanderings of my creative mind. There are times when I have to stop and ask myself, "Did I just think that?" I guess it's one of the hazards of being creative. If you know what I'm talking about, then you're probably a writer. If not, let me explain.
I have this habit where, as soon as I meet someone new, I start developing a character around the way they talk, the way they move, how they smile. Whatever stands out. It's not something I consciously do. It just happens. I can't control it. Cashiers, people pumping gas near me. The dude sitting behind me at church? He doesn't know it, but he just became a villain in one of my story lines. Sorry, dude.
Now, I'm not complaining. It's actually a lot of fun. Except when my mind creates a rather awkward or funny situation for the poor, unaware stranger, and I start laughing. Especially when the conversation isn't in synch with the humor of my mind. But, at least it's humor and not some twisted, dark, or haunting death scene or something. I mean, it's one thing to burst out laughing while staring at the candy rack while standing in line at the grocery store. It would be a totally different thing to suddenly gasp in terror. "I think I saw a spider" just wouldn't cut it.
Sometimes I really, really want to tell the other person what my mind just created about them. I mean, I probably won't see them again. There are plenty of other cashiers, and when I run out of those, I could always shop somewhere else. But, I don't say anything. I just go home and write. Sometimes a quick, short story. Sometimes they get written into my current novel. In fact, the Brother Thomas series I'm currently working on started from a random thought I had after a five second moment of seeing someone whom I never met in person, nor learned anything about who she was. Just the way she stood, the expression on her face, the feeling she gave me when I saw her. Suddenly, she was the Endlessly Dying Girl. That's where that series started. Brother Thomas didn't come in until much later in the creative process. How he became the lead character is a testament to how I write. I was only trying to create a small backstory for his character. Yet, the more I wrote him into existence, the more powerful he became to the story. His is also one of the few characters not based on someone I've met. At least, no one that I can remember.
The very first story I wrote was about a group of my friends from school. I was in the 6th grade when I started it. I gave it to my 7th grade English teacher to review. I never got it back. I think he must have lost it. Maybe it was so bad he decided to save the world from my lack of ability to write back then. I still remember some of it, though. As I do all of the other started-and-never-finished stories over the years.
I've always thought about going back and trying to re-create some of them. Polish them up a bit, and finish where I left off. There really are quite a few. And a wide variety of genres, too. Mostly fantasy and sci-fi stuff. That's just where my mind goes most of the time. Probably because that's what I read in my youth. I was always the most fascinated how authors could create whole worlds, galaxies even. All with their own languages and religious customs. Maybe I'll meet someone who will prompt a journey into that level of writing. I think that would be fun.