There’s something magical about books of any sort.
For many of us on here, lost within WordPress’s vast world, it was books that first ignited our souls and hearts to the realm of the written word. Each of us have a different idea on what a “true” story is – but we’re all the same in the underlining truth that we turn to books, be it fiction or nonfiction, to escape and delve into another world for some soul-searching purpose. This is my truth, even if finding a story to lose myself in these days is getting progressively harder.
It’s obvious why the pictures I chose for this post are book-related, once we all stop and think about it. I love to read, I love to write, and I love to create. This passion of mine, it isn’t as strong as it used to be. Sometimes my passion for writing and story-creation burn out, especially when I’m stressed out or when I feel like I’ve hit a dead-end. My lack of my own personal computer has thrown a wrench into everything I do. It frustrates me that, when I want to write…I have to go across town to the bloody library to do so.
Don’t get me wrong: I love the library.
I find so many books there, some of them good while other’s…aren’t so good. There’s a lot of interesting and useful stuff once can delve into. The bonus – the books are free, for me, because I have a library card and I live in town. Because of this, I can stumble upon a dark, mountainous realm (not literally) of books where I can temporally get lost and relax before returning to the realm work beyond the large, glass library doors. It’s nice.
Puzzled You May Be
Why do we crave to escape, for a time, into another world? Why are we crazy to make our own worlds, for that matter? Two questions I have asked myself many times, over the years. Generally, I never have an answer other than: because I can’t not do it!
The thought of not writing, of not creating, is so crazy I can’t process the information without wanting to bash someone’s face in. Should someone try and worm their way into my own creative process, or want to divert my attention from my own worlds in my head, is enough to make me subtly, poker-face-ly angry. I just smile and give one-worded answers, after that. The only worlds I want to focus on, the only ones I want to devote my precious time on, are the ones of my own invention.
I’m a solitary person, in that regard. I think all writers are, in that regard.
We guard our work like a dragon guards its treasure.
I write because I can’t not write. I read because I need to loose myself in the pages of a good book for creative stimulation (which also is fed through video games and really good movies). Conversation isn’t my strong point, if in person. I can hold a conversation online or through text easy enough – but face-to-face, I tend to struggle to know what to say and it often leaves me a tad uncomfortable because I don’t want to bore someone.
Hence why I generally don’t talk to people, actually. Huh. Figured out that mystery…
I like fantasy and the unknown, the supernatural and the dark shadows which lurk in it. I find a great deal of interest in these. I like ghosts and vampires (as long as they don’t bloody sparkle) and werewolves and fairies and monsters and…well, everything. I like aliens, too, though I haven’t read too many Sci-Fi books to have a good feel for that.
Though I do like Mass Effect. Awesome game.
This post is more of a rambling of my thoughts that anything else, a rambling with some interesting pieces of information tucked within. Through this odd journey of words, I hope each and every one of you have found something to take away from this, even if it’s as simple as “Miller is a Rambler.” It’s the cold-hard truth, folks.
I ramble. A lot. O_O
…The pictures, they belong to whoever made them and put them on google…