“How much of your brain is your own? Do you ever think about that?” one of my characters asks the reader, in my ever-unfinished book series.
Where does imagination begin–how much am I creating, versus re-creating? I’ve been wondering about this recently. My readers have been saying similar things to me recently–that I transport them, take them to a different world. This is a personal goal achieved. But fiction, even sci-fi, has some base in reality at some point, right?
So I’ve made up festivals, such as Melting Point. Would I effectively be able to make these imaginary events and their worlds, if I hadn’t experienced a few burnerific years in the recent before times? I will never know.
So I’ve made up settings, from cities to planets, and characters to populate them. Even in the most sci-fi of situations, aren’t I just putting my own out-there spin on reality?
These are general ponderings and I’m curious to hear from you about these experiences as a creative.