The death of David Bowie probably hit some harder than it hit me, but it was still a great loss for me personally. The death of Alan Rickman did not carry quite the same gravity for me personality, but I know others who felt that one harder. From both passings, a few brief thoughts spring forth.
In spite of the way that the evening has become fixed in my imagination, the night of July 14 2014 would not register as significant. While birthdays, inductions, and other commemorative dates are in themselves notable and I’d do nothing to cast a shadow over such things, it’s the reason why it’s keyed to a burst of creativity that is the mystery.
Writers bear a wonderful burden. They’re the only ones that can put the exact story they’ve imagined into words so that others can experience it too. Even the most horrible procrastinator that gets no further than an outline, or concept, or title… they experience a piece of creativity that few others will ever see.
I was sure that I’d touched on this before. One of the most peculiar questions to me that I’ve had about writing, is why I even do it. Why write? The question was peculiar to me, because as someone that had spent decades working on stories (even if they amounted to little more than additional memories for me), I couldn’t really understand the question being one.
Somewhere between the real and the fictional, sits an invisible pixie, satyr, yahg or platypus that feeds you ideas. The muse. She (or he, or it) is never around when you want them to be. It’s their fault when we have writer’s block, when we want to abandon the plot we’ve been thrashing through for the sake of the new one about the dancing robot with an elven girlfriend, and when our character decides to jump out of a plane we’re intent on killing them in.
My muse is a bitch.
When I was younger, most of my writing ideas tended toward either fantasy or science-fiction. I suppose not much has changed in that regard. I also used to play mostly adventure games, and the great majority of my favourites went for the same overall genre. The time I spent with the whole Quest for Glory series was… interesting.
I find the world to be a fascinating place. Over the past few days, I’ve been talking to some friends that live in climates far colder than where I reside, hearing how to them snow is just an everyday occurrence, and that things like puddles can freeze as a regular thing – it’s actually awe-inspiring to me. I do have that inclination, though. My wife often catches me staring at a sunset with a goofy smile on my face, absorbing the beauty of the world.
Yeah, it’s going to be one of those posts. BYO puke bucket.
Last night was impromptu date night. My wife and I had been planning to see Skyfall for a while, but just hadn’t had the chance. We did a little christmas shopping after getting home, then it was all about Bond.