The idea of posting something, I must admit, is quite daunting. I mean, posting something that ends up in this section, ‘The Life of Mildred’. It’s just weird, I guess. There’s really not much going on in my life. I’m the boring sort. The sort who stays at home most of the day and the most interesting thing she can look forward to is the next meal, or perhaps sleeping. The most exciting thing that might occur would be the thoughts that flit through her head.
I dunno, I can think of a lot of things. I dream of what stories I write next, imagine the scenes out in my head. The faces of my characters are always blurred, because I can’t exactly picture them in real- life. I think of catch phrases that I could write, and imagine what the reaction would be on the antagonist’s face in my story. You know, the final scene when the main character goes like ‘Ta- da! Caught you there, buddy.’ It amuses me, really. When I pause in writing, say, in a very exciting part of the story, I like to think of my characters as being stuck in limbo. Like maybe, if you read the below slowly, and imagine it:
The murderer raised his knife, his shadow casting a terrifying silhouette in the night.
To Jonas, everything up till that point in his life seemed to fade away in that instant, and only that moment seemed to come into sharp clarity before his eyes. The knife was startlingly sharp. The murderer had a grin on his face, his teeth gleaming at the pointed ends in the moonlight. The knife began to descend. Jonas wondered if the cold steel would be the last thing he ever felt.
As the cruel blade found its mark—
And then I go to the kitchen for a drink. Just imagine the scene now. The brilliant moonlight, illuminating the scene before your eyes—a murderer and his deadly knife, poised over a dude who is lying on the ground, gasping for his breath. Hah! Completely frozen. Stuck in limbo.
I even think of creating new metaphors, and some of them just sound down- right strange. I’ve tried likening a thought to a sunflower seed. Like many sunflower seeds, if compressed, can give out a large amount of oil. This oil, of course, would be the outcome, the piece/ article/ essay you’ve written after delving into a bundle of thoughts. What a slick description.
If you’ve read the Inheritance Cycle, which is, incidentally, my favourite book, or rather, series, then you’d know what I’m talking about. The metaphors you encounter there are not quite the usual ones you’d see in other places. I suppose that’s one of the reasons why I like that series.
And then I think of other stranger things. Like what if each colour everyone sees appears differently in each person’s eyes? Let’s take an example, for instance. Say, you and I are both looking at a colour, which is blue. What if the blue you are looking at appears green, in my eyes? And if we both agree that we like the colour blue, I’d never know you were actually referring to green, and you’d probably see green as blue, and maybe say that you dislike green, which essentially means that you dislike blue—are you following? That was a bit convoluted. But I suppose you got what I was saying, anyway.
Ok, I understand if I’ve lost you somewhere earlier. To the one or two who are still with me— or is it no one?—I want to ask if these thoughts have ever occurred to you, or maybe something along these lines. I think I should end here before you die of boredom, or close your eyes and rub the back of your neck or something.
You can leave whatever goes through your head in the comments below, maybe the nice and polite ones. Feel free to ramble on about Inheritance Cycle too, and I promise I will reply that. I mean, even if you don’t like that series, you can ramble on about why you don’t like it. I promise I won’t snarl at my computer.
For those hopeless ones who still want some more of my ramblings, you can comment random stuff that you want me to talk about. Thanks. Hope you haven’t fallen asleep reading this!