Imagination lost?

Originally posted 5/27/08

Do you ever wonder where your imagination goes? I can remember a time when I was just a boy, and it seemed that ideas were on tap 24 hours a day. I used to write short stories, question and answer action-adventure books made up of torn notebook paper folded in half and stapled. These books were filled with stories of dinosaurs, dragons, knights and warriors all fighting for themselves or a counterpart. There was seldom an occasion when I couldn't churn out at least one or two of these per day in elementary school. It seemed the endless bowl of thoughts could not be emptied fast enough as my little hand wrote, not with my ten fingers on a QWERTY keyboard, but a No. 2 pencil gripped firmly in my right hand.

I can remember being so interested in English, grammar and the structure of all things writing that I would literally absorb anything anyone said to me. It seemed to me that as I grew older my love for writing followed me. I changed in my writing style; short stories and novellas, now more serious subject matters... usually along the lines of the paranormal or somehow a clever twisted end. As the stories seemed to get longer and longer, I seemed to lose a little focus on the story. I discovered the need for an editor. ;) I needed someone to proofread and re-arrange my thoughts into something more coherent.

Then.... it all just stopped. My moods seemed to change in high school, and my attention was turned to the elixir of evil that would only begin to plague me: women. They sucked all my creativity and imagination into any kind of strategic plan that would render me +1 at any given time. My short stories and novellas turned into poetry and sonnets that could be used to impress or entertain long enough to get the attention turned to me.

In the end, I find these days that even to begin the thought process to write a short story about anything seems like a lot of work for little reward. I don't have spontaneous or random ideas that I feel are worthy of writing, although any English teacher/professor I've ever had would slap me if they heard such nonsense.

My attempt to begin putting thoughts down on paper starts now. Maybe I'll look back from all this and appreciate these humble beginnings.