My debut fantasy novel, The Archguardians of Laceria, is now available in paperback, and in all ebookstores!

Monday, 26 November 2012

I Like To Believe

   I've never had difficulty believing things. Perhaps I'm just gullible, who knows? But when it comes to imaginary things, I accept them without question. It is, of course, Father Christmas who has brought this subject to the front of my mind. When I was little, like most of you, I believed he, the tooth fairy, the easter bunny existed, I believed they were all real. I never questioned it. The fact that my stocking was filled and the cookies had gone in the morning was all the proof I needed. The same goes for the easter bunny. I remember one year my sister and I had some plushy bunnies. We spent days brushing them so they would be nice and smooth, and we left them beside a basket, because, in our house, the easter bunny would leave us a small collection of mini eggs and creme eggs and stuff in our room. We woke up easter morning to find that my bunny's fur was ruffled - clearly, the only explanation, was that the easter bunny had stroked it.
   But then the day came when I was told the truth. Some of you may have figured it out for yourselves. Seeg did. I didn't. My parents told me, I assume, because otherwise I'd find out from kids when I started high school, and let's face it, they wouldn't have broken it to me well. I would have then proceeded to embarrass myself by disputing their slanderous claims. Of course kids these days seem to know before they're 10 that none of it is real.
   I recall the day they told me, in fact, and I remeber these words escaping my lips with tears pouring down my face: "next you're going to tell me the easter bunny isn't real!" Yes, that's right, the easter bunny somehow seemed more legit than Father Christmas.

   Well, I may be turning 22 in January, but I still eagerly latch onto these imaginary things. When I'm riding in a car, I search the sky for dragons. I'll be even worse on the plane to The Netherlands. In fact, just a month ago, I conjured up a lovely little idea about dragons - one I'm keeping to myself for future reference, so I won't tell anyone who asks! But even now I hope things to be real, even when part of me knows full well it's rubbish. I also believe, on my crazier days, that I may actually possess magic, I've just not figured out how to unleash it yet. In fact, I remember watching Sabrina The Teenage Witch in the 90s and thinking to myself that when I turned 16, I'd try it. Well, I did, and no luck. So I thought maybe when I turned 18. I tried it, no luck. Yes, even at 21. I've given up with age now, I figure it'll happen when it happens.

   But I have to say, as crazy as I might come across to some people, I am so proud of myself for maintaining that childish outlook on life. It makes the world brighter, and so very hopeful. I recently finished reading Breathless by Dean Koontz - SHOCKER! It wasn't a fantasy (not quite)! - and those little white furry creatures with their flipping awesome eyes, but set here in our world, got my cogs turning. They didn't evolve, they just suddenly began to exist. It was awesome.
   I might not be that old yet, but by the law, I am an adult. I don't think I'm ever going to grow up, and I'm glad. It means that I have a constant flow of resources for my writing, because I can conjure an idea out of thin air and have done on many occasions, and as easy as I am to convince with things, I can come up with sound reasoning and physics behind my stories. Facts that will probably never come up in the books, but are there nonetheless.


   What traits do you carry that you're very proud of?






0 comments:

Post a Comment

I do read every single comment, and I will try to respond where I can. If you have an important question about my blog or my shop, however, then you might be better off contacting me directly by email. Thanks so much for reading my blog!