As children, we played for hours outside, making up characters, planning excursions across fields and down trails, crawling around in the rocks and trees when we became our favourite book character. Indoor, immersing my mind into the stories of books that we were encouraged to read. Setting up tea parties with dolls and stuffed animals. Playing store in the pantry, making tickets to pretend to sell to our parents for them to watch us perform a play we had concocted. None would have been possible without an imagination that was turned on each time we opened our eyes and were introduced to something new in our lives.
I think that is one of the reasons I like to write. I get to float through the clouds to Imagination Land, gathering tidbits of memories and what-ifs to embellish and create. Storing them in the grey vault of the brain for just the right time to pull them out and add them to a story, start a new one, or create a tale filled with whatever falls into place.
The question that is often presented to writers is, “Where do you get your ideas from?” My answer is, “The imagination and life itself is a wonderful research tool.”