C. S. Rickard

Archive for the ‘myth’ Category

I love the creative process. I really do.

I can’t convey the high I get when I’m writing or thinking through a scene and all of a sudden my mind takes off! It focuses on one, little kernel of information and sprints through a maze of thoughts morphing, merging and creating new variations or themes until it finally stops. Heart pumping with anticipation, I grab the new thought before it vanishes, then stand in awe at the evolution of that one little kernel that started it all.

I find it an absolutely amazing experience.

The process of writing is a fascinating one. Many people outline scenes or create one-line statements per chapter to keep them on target. I simply can’t do that. If I did, my mind and creativity would whither and blow away.

I definitely fall into the second category. Those who sit down with a blank screen (or paper, depending upon your medium of choice) with a general idea. In my case, I knew the overall story I wanted to tell, and I knew how it would end. In fact, I had the end clearly envisioned in my mind before I wrote a single word.

Writing the first draft was like test driving a new car in a new country. I didn’t know the roads, but I knew how to drive, where I wanted to go and generally how to get there. Along the way I found which roads were dead-ends, which ones were really windy and took me too far out of the way, and which ones took a bit longer, but the scenery was beautiful and well worth the extra travel time. I met some wonderful people on those roads as well as those I’d rather forget.

The first revision I thought would simply be an effort of cutting out the dead-ends and wayward routes and focusing on the direct path with a few scenic detours along the way.

That isn’t all that’s happening.

As I revise, images and details are emerging in my head that didn’t exist before. I’m discovering a depth to the cultures I’m writing about. A history is emerging I wasn’t aware of, along with some interesting myths and beliefs. The more I write, the more solid my characters become. I’m noticing quirks in them that I don’t remember creating. Attitudes and prejudices are becoming more substantial.

They are becoming real.

But now I wonder…isn’t hearing a bunch of voices in your head called schizophrenia? Maybe that’s only if you aren’t a writer.

One of my favorite parts of writing fantasy is world building. I love playing in my imagination. As a kid, my sister and her best friend referred to me as a dreamer. While I like doing things and being active, I can be just as content staring out the window for hours on end.

At first, my world building was focused on the basics, like how does the world function, what people populate it, how is it divided geographically and demographically, what types of plants and animals live there, what is the technology, what is the current political situation?

This all gave me a broad brush stroke of the present day world, but I want to create a world with depth and richness. So I started going back and creating a history for each species and kingdom. I’m also developing several conflicting religions along with the power struggles that go within each. While these are fun, what I find myself pulled towards lately is folklore and mythology. Every culture has some, so I wanted to create a few for my world too. The challenge: whatever I create needs to be critical to the lives of the respective cultures.

I’ve developed one myth thus far that I really like and it plays into the end of the story. I’m working on a few more, but a big part of the fun is simply imagining…thinking up various things and letting them play out in my mind to see if they work.

I wish I could instill this love of imagination in my children. I would love to get them to ‘unplug’ and just go inside themselves once in awhile and see where it leads them. I can get them to turn off all electrical equipment to play cards or a board game with me without trouble — they enjoy playing, but they never willingly do it just to dream.

I sometimes wonder if we’re losing something with all the sensory overload we expose ourselves to day in and day out. We’ve become so immune to it, our senses need more and more to feel any stimulation at all. Kinda reminds me of drug or alcohol addiction.