It strikes me as funny this morning, that the more I write, the more I find I have things to write about. I find myself in a position, however, where I don’t necessarily have time to write about it. People have asked where in the world I come up with these ideas? How do I write stories? I’m not quite sure “why” it happens, but I have a little clue this morning on the “how”.

This morning on the way to work I was listening to the Philosopher’s Notes on the Joseph Cambell Companion. I’ve listened to it a couple of times, so my mind wandered a little bit as I contemplated my own heroes journey. I began thinking of my life as an adventure, and I began reframing my day in archetypes and looking at it from a mythic standard. It is actually quite amusing, although I realize that I am still at the beginning of my journey – somewhere in the dark forest.

Somehow these ideas began to spin out of control – no longer was my character static, but animated in my head. She burst forth on her journey and whole world sprang to life in my mind. Here I am – on the highway – the roads are icy and I’m stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. Yet, my mind is reeling off into some fantasy world where everything in my life turns to something fantastical – some of it very frightening – but amazing in scope just the same.

My magic wand, the one that I use to transport these worlds, is unfortunately quite difficult to use when I am wrangling the beast that I ride into battle each day. In fact, using the darned thing while trying to ride has potentially deadly consequences. What can I do? Surely these worlds will slip from my grasp back into the ether if I do nothing.

Red light. Quickly – I pull out my cell phone and send a text to my email with some key words to remind me of these ideas.

Green light. Traffic is moving slowly along the icy roads. I begin composing the beginning of a story aloud – speaking in a theatrical tone to emphasize the mood and tone of the story in my own mind.

The path was treacherous and frought with peril, but I persevered and arrived safely at my destination. I dismounted from the beast and made my way over to the door of the tower. It was locked. I stood for a moment, my fingers trailing along the icy door. I pulled on it again. It was not going to open. Thwarted? Not I.

To my right there is another door. I make my way over to it. It opens easily and the warmth spills over me easing the ache in my travelers bones. I was making my way down a long corridor when I encountered the powerful sorceress that inhabits this tower. I greet her with a smile and she laughs.

Ummm… wait.

Ok. Get your head about you now. That’s the CEO. Your boss? Remember her?

I shook my head a little as I made my way to my office. I grabbed my cup and was making my way to the elixir of strength – ummm… I mean I went to get a cup of coffee. Yes, that’s coffee in your cup.

Back down another corridor, I get back to my office. I remove the shawl of destiny from my shoulders and sit in the black leather chair behind my desk. I take a sip of coffee, and try desperately to forget that the villagers are in trouble.I’ll have to save them later. Right now I have to answer some voicemail, push some paper, and analyze some data.

Or else the sorceress might get angry, and then I might be trapped here forever.


Poet, Artist, Writer, Novelist, Photographer, Mommy, Domestic Partner, Tender of the Earth, and Conduit of Love and Abundance Come like me on Facebook

Posted in Writing
2 comments on “Storigins
  1. DOMINO says:

    Hahaha! By the time I got to “powerful sorceress”, “elixir of strength” and “shawl of destiny” I was already laughing out loud.

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No Guts…No Story
“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” ~ Sylvia Plath
Sasha Lynn

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