Come with me, and you'll be in a world of pure imagination...
Sorry, I had a Willy Wonka moment there.
I have a kind of vivid imagination. And, as a child, Roald Dahl was one of my favourite authors. So, naturally, I loved the Gene Wilder version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
I want one of those gardens with the sweets. I want it now! Yeah, there's a bit of Verucca Salt in me. :)
The line from that song makes me wonder about imagination. All of us have it. As children we use it everyday in the games we play, the stories we tell etc. So when we are adults where does it go?
Do we lose the ability of imagination? Do we forget because we don't want to use it and life is taken over by the practicality of work?
As writers we seem to hold on to our imagination. It grows along with us.
We store those ideas and tap into them. We create worlds, characters and stories. We live with our MC in this world. We share their pain, triumphs and disasters.
Maybe we're eternal dreamers. The word charmers of old changing folktales into bedtime stories.
Perhaps imagination is a gift bestowed on all as babies, but only utilized by those who still see the world around them. They want to shape it and set it free for others to enjoy.
Imagination has a spark. A catalyst that helps us turn our idea into a plot, and that plot into a novel. We want to do it.
Perhaps that is what separates writers' imaginations from others. We all have it, we never really loose it, but only some want to use it.
Like Mr. Wonka says.
If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it. Anything you want to...do it. Want to change the world? There's nothing...to it.
There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination. Living there you'll be free. If you truly wish to be.