So, here’s a metaphor of mine about writers, full of personification. Maybe you think it’s stupid, maybe actual authors will read it and think it’s stupid. It’s just how I look at things.
I imagine people walking down a busy street in a city. And, above their heads, little birdy type things flutter . These are Stories.
See, there are only certain people receptive to these stories, people who can see them, should they decide to reveal themselves. “Fiction” Writers. And, why would these stories reveal themselves to anyone? For some unfathomable reason, they feel the desire, the need, to be told. And they select the most apt Writer to do it. These writers are the people born with a linguistic mind; and Stories are going to lean towards whomever has the best grasp on linguistics. But that’s not all they’re looking for. They want someone who can write their particular tale with style and flourish. A fantasy Story would likely not choose a horror Writer, although sometimes one does get cool combinations…
And Authors will attest to this. To seeing story ideas appearing from nowhere, to have them settle inside their minds and slowly weave a tale before them. A newer Writer should be thrilled to have their first Story choose them, and an older Writer is plagued by them.
I like to imagine my Stories (and I do have a few) being very proud of me when I write something spectacular, or very disappointed when I write something… not. I am trying to write it to the Story’s own standard, the way it was meant to be written. I also imagine the stories starting the question whether or not they’ve chosen the right person when I don’t write for a while. It keeps me writing, out of fear that the Story will change its mind and pick someone else, causing me to forget everything. And, that would be terribly sad, for I would miss it most bitterly. The Stories keep me company, and offer sanctuary when the real world is nowhere near as cool as it should be. It also distracts me in math class, but you win some, you lose some.
I also think this metaphor helps me mentally explain why I’ve written what I have. Because, I really don’t feel that I’ve “made it up”. I feel that it just happened, and I recorded it that way. I didn’t lay out the tracks for the train, I just followed it. I mean, come on. I could not have come up with something as awesome as I feel my Stories are.