These imaginations come in sneaking snippets, then flowing rivulets that surge like vexed flood that need be checked in time. Because we’re in time, everything comes in time and your time management is key. But how glaring it is that nothing is ever given humans without effort, then, we begin to experience moments of draught, properly called writer’s block. And it was a staggering six month hiatus Selasie had to deal with between a book completion and a deal breakthrough. How both painful and devastating your love hits up a snag, a breach! As though there never was a time your hand juggled with a point over some lain paper.
One striking feature of imagining, the imagination, is to create unreal images wherein lies the artistic ability.
In this article of the month of our growing series, we will be exploring, or rather, writing other people, creating and recreating with the imagination! The piece is borne from repeated trial and error of conjuring perfectly, real human characters- characters likeable to life persons. Think of an attitude in someone you would love to replicate by bodifying with words but yet, it would not come alive. How difficult or effortless, it’s an attainable degree, hop in with us…
Should I begin writing my own experienced tales as some prerequisite before feeding on my imaginations of others? Until now, holds on a shaky credibility. Moreover, when it’s said as such, there seem to lay aside a hidden agenda. This agenda- being able to tell near horrible, pitiable stories of yourself, of childhood, the twists and turns, highs and lows until they begin to show in looks. It then brings one to the gridlock of having to negotiate with difficult life challenges, being able to circumspect them or worse, invent terrible ploys and machinations that only the effort of a purported ‘deus ex machina’ would it afford to snap through, to succeed, then a writer is unleashed. Meanwhile, this whole writing endeavour could consist of; interest writing for personal gratification and the ambitious nurture to exist in the literary galaxy.
Wherein, this prospect to a relative extent satisfies the scorching desire of one passing or had passed through the billows of thick and thin. By and large, what then awaits one who almost has found life nearly perfect, of nothing short of better memories? Well! Until the reed to properly juxtapose between these two lengths come through. We have facts strewn all over for us to make our decides. Perhaps, as some arbiter ourselves, we would grow the two sides ourselves until one starts to spill over and tickle on the set rigid platform.
Nevertheless, “…When I learned some years ago that writers were expected to have had really unhappy childhood to be successful, I began to think about how I could invent horrible things my parents had done to me. But, the truth is that I had a very happy childhood, full of laughter and love, in a very close knit family…I grew up under repressive military government that devalued education, that sometimes my parents were not paid their salaries. And so as a child I saw jam disappear from the breakfast table. Then margarine disappeared, then bread became so expensive, then milk became so rationed. And most of all, a kind of normalized political fear invaded our lives.” And so were the words of the Nigerian Chimamanda Adichie, as said on Tedx: On Telling a Few Personal Stories; billed for July, 2009.
The emphasis therefore, lies in the first sentence. And the others that follow show how, it turned out being a happy childhood, instead. No matter how a platoon of the subsequent turn out of things and events were fast antagonising the happiness. Even with the inclusion of the negatives in the latter part of the speech, the happy childhood seem preordained. And then we might begin to insinuate that not everyone has the luxury of scooping the jelly-like mixture into bread slices that meet their waterloo in the mouth, as part of what constitute the uneasiness. But, it all goes beyond that. Until we flash our light beam, only to notice there are also writers who need not to taste jam to prove their mettle.
“IMAGINATION: THE I!”
Herein, we undertake to tap to life passion and imagination as unproclaimed theme. Firstly, we begin with imagination that starts its first letter count with the too self-concerned person, the I. With our imaginative prowess, we become increasingly aware of our all seeing inner eye that presents us with seeming perfect picturesque of our thoughts. It dashes us this eagerness to bring to light our contemplations, triggered by sparks we receive from know-not-where. Even as Taiye Selasie would be apt to say;
“but I’m very willing to follow my imagination where it wants to go…”-with Tim Lewis, March of 2013 for Guardian.
Read later post on passion in: In the absence of the pen