“It’s research…I swear!”
If you’re a writer, you’ve used that same phrase (or variations of it) at least once.
You know the situation.
You casually bring an armload of hardcovers up to the bookstore cashier and watch her lackadaisical expression shift to curiosity, then to slightly alarmed. Moments later, you’re being regarded as a possible threat; you can see the wheels spinning in her head. Eight different resources on how to get away with murder or summon the devil? You recognise the familiar balance of options whirring in her mind, wondering if the police should be involved.
You smile gently and say “I’m a writer.”
An air of understanding manifests itself in her relieved appearance.
She gets it.
We are the spinners of stories, victors of vocabulary.
Ragged, worn, pounding on keyboards at 3 AM because that’s when our best ideas surge forth. We don’t do it because it’s easy … we do it because we are creators of worlds and we alone can give them life.