A month or so ago, I blogged about Writer’s Brain as a humourous way to announce my new novel.
However, writers experience more than just an excess of story ideas. A characteristic of many writers is what I’ve come to think of as the feeling of story.
It’s that feeling when you hear a song, and the lyrics make you feel like there’s a story there that could be written. It’s that feeling when you see a word or a phrase, think that it would make a wonderful story title, and have bits and pieces of ideas flit through you brain, but nothing substantial. It’s that feeling when you read a name and just know it has to fit into a story somewhere. It’s the feeling that comes when you see beautiful scenery, and just ache, because you feel like there’s a story there, but you can’t quite grasp it.
It’s like being in a garden at twilight, with fog lying thick in the air. You can smell the flowers, you can feel them brushing on your skin as you walk past, but you can’t see them. When you reach out to them, your hand touches nothing but moisture-laden air, yet you feel the flowers’ presence.
And then sometimes the mist parts, and you pluck the story idea, caress it, smell it, toy with it. And sometimes, sometimes, it blooms into a tale all your own.