Before I wrote any stories down, I unfolded them scene by scene in my head. Stories were always more like movies to me; I had the pictures of what they should be long before I’d have the words. Today this still feels true.
When I was young I’d entertain myself on long car rides by creating stories in my head (this was before my dad figured out how to hook up the small TV into the back of our minivan). The earliest one I remember was about my brother and me. We were royalty in a made-up world and when war broke out he was captured. I set off from the ruins of our kingdom to rescue my little prince from our enemies. It was a dark story, with adventure and villains and a rescue from a fire-lit lair in the mountains.
I’d work on it slowly, scene by scene, working over each detail in my mind again and again before I moved on. The next time I was in the car, I’d start over again, play it out like a movie until I wanted to pause and edit the details.
As I grew up I’d sink into my stories whenever I could. Car rides, during boring classes, and while waiting to fall asleep each night. I have never fallen asleep easily; my storytelling trick helped me look forward to something when I closed my eyes. If I didn’t sleep, I could at least be entertained.
This is a habit I have not broken and most nights I try to drift off to my own made up stories that are
Since I’ve learned to meditate, I’ve found my bedtime storytelling to be a meditative practice. There’s a thousand thoughts distracting me at night: about my day, the next day, work, that embarrassing moment I had a decade ago, a book I should reread, and on, and on, and nothing is off limits to what my brain will conjure if I’m left alone in the dark for a few minutes.
With a story as an anchoring point I can pull out the meditation trick: acknowledge that I’m distracted and come back to the story. Again and again until I’m asleep.
Some of the stories I wrote down: the twisted and badly crafted romances of a fourteen year old or the better crafted novella about a boy escaping his circumstances of a college senior. Many stories I didn’t document and probably never will.
Right now I’m working on a queer teen romance with some angst and blackmail and accidental feelings. It’s amazingly fanfiction-y and very comfortable living firmly off the page for now.
And it’s fun. It’s really a lot of fun.
With Love,
Natalie