How easy is that? Well not so easy if you are setting out to write another novel. I wrote last week about the challenges and choices that face every author at the beginning of a new work.
I was once encouraged to just put down my bottom, sit up and type/write – no matter what the substance and sooner or later there will be something of value remaining that can contribute to the finished work. Though I have reservations about where the empty page can take you. An empty page and perhaps an empty mind!
Today, after mulling over the last week the development of the idea of “The beginning of my end” I’ve put a bit more flesh on the bone. I still agonize about the autobiographical bit and how hard it is to avoid. We are after all, what we have become through the data bank of our experience. It is impossible to avoid even in this age of endless research tools. The key is our imagination and our ability to imagine.
This should I suppose be limitless, but it seldom is, tied down as we are to the experience of our own being. I find it impossible to get excited about certain options that are fantastic, sci-fi, horror and even brutal everyday crime. There lie my limitations as an author. A narrowly defined horizon that imprisons my imagination.
I will try to work to broaden my options and open my mind. But even at 76, it’s hard to do despite having traveled more than most and enjoyed a relatively wild and certainly interesting life.
At least in this little blog, I’ve set myself up, to flex my imaginative muscles and step into a brand new horizon. Who knows what I shall find there?