I write fantasy. My stories take place in a different world. What I’ve thought about quite a bit recently is how a lot of my actual writing also happens in a different world.
I mentioned in my previous post how my shoulder was acting up and I wasn’t writing for a while. It’s gotten better, and I’m back at it again. I finished the two conversations for the story about Alene and I’ve started to write the part leading up to the first one. I’m still not particularly happy with how it’s turning out, but I’m more than happy to be writing again.
The last few days, writing had been an escape both from the mental and physical world. I’ve gone over to the pub up the road, ordered a pizza and a pint and sat down by the fireplace to write.
It’s a pretty radical change in environment compared to my apartment. I like my place (and I’ll stay there despite the recent rent increase), but lately I’ve not been comfortable writing there. It may change now that winter is coming and it gets dark earlier, but not yet.
The pub is warm and cozy. It’s lit by candles and the fireplace, and by a length of Christmas lights draped around the doorway to the other room, where the bar is. It’s rarely full, at least not at the hours I go there, but it’s also rarely empty. Low music plays over the speakers.
It’s a pub for meeting up and having a drink and a conversation – or write. It’s not a party place, and I love it.
I rarely notice it when I get there, but whenever I’m done for the evening and step out through the doors it’s like reality comes rushing back to hit me in the face like a cold shower – regardless of whether it’s raining or not.
That’s when I realise I’ve been somewhere else for a while – a safe happy nowhere land that I create for myself when the conditions are right.
This usually happens when I’m writing, and almost never while I’m at home. I have to go somewhere else to find that sweet spot where the real world slowly drifts away and my mind starts building another reality all on its own. For really, it is another reality. The fears and worries of the real world shrink and go away and my stories and characters become more real. Their issues matter more. Their world comes closer and I learn and discover more and more about it.
It’s one of the things I really love about writing.