As a youngster I read all the usual suspects... Cherry Ames, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Little House on the Prairie, Bobbsey Twins, Dick and Jane. But I also read science fiction and fantasy. Tom Swift. Mark Twain. Jules Verne. Aldous Huxley.As I moved on into adulthood, I found myself drawn more and more into those imaginary worlds where anything and everything was possible. Small wonder that most of my writing falls into that broad genre labeled paranormal.
Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Paranormal--all offer opportunities for writers to explore the limits of their imaginations. Perhaps that is the attraction for me. The lack of limits allows me to write stories where the impossible is not only possible, but even likely. Animals can talk. Plants can think. Space travel is common. Grass is purple and pine trees are red. People are blue.
The limitless imagination is a priceless gift. The opportunity to spin a story from it is wondrous and precious. On this ninth day of November let us be thankful for the gift of imagination.
anny
indeed!
ReplyDeletethe 'developed' world that we see today around us, is an extension of our imagination. Quantum leaps are possible only when we dream the impossible.
Then the miracle happens...
Anny,
ReplyDeleteI too thank God and Every Writer/Author out there for imagination. With out these precious gifts, where would heroism, character, ideals, and most importantly friendship be? If we could not imagine a better world, how would we change the world we live in for the better?
Have a great day!
The imagination is such a wonderful thing. It inspires hope in the hopeless, entertainment for the bored and I truly believe it has the power to save lives.
ReplyDelete