I Write Scenes in My Head


I write scenes in my head.

Constantly.

Situations in my life becomes a scene in a novel or a play. Anybody or anything is candidate for the next Scene in My Head.

People walking by aren’t pedestrians, they’re characters.

A man in the grocery store isn’t shopping, he’s undercover.

A kid that walks by with a forlorn look isn’t tired, but is running away from abuse.

I can take a real life scenario in front of me and turn it into fiction so quickly, I make myself cry.

Here’s a perfect example.

I was at a writer’s retreat, alone in my own cabin. I never could decide if the aloneness was “pure deliciousness” as my teens would say, or too much desert.  I love my hubby and kids and being alone was, well, very alone.

But, I was there, alone,  writing at the dining room table.  Writing.  Writing. Writing.

The curtains were closed for privacy, but a fall storm was setting the perfect scene outside.  Try describing this thunder and lightening, branches scratching my trailer kinda’ cold fall night without opening up your cliché drawer

Storm Activity Classes 15th 018

Ya’ know, the kinda’ storm that would muffle out screams?

The kinda’ storm where a tree could drop on my Jeep and I couldn’t drive away to safety?

The kinda’ storm that normal people don’t go out in?

Then, a moment of panic

The curtains behind the couch moved.

Then they moved again, the fabric lightly bellowed with an upward motion, in rhythm with a mechanical whirr, parting  the panels slightly.

With frightened fascination I embellished the scene.

Was there enough room behind the couch for a man to fit? Would he have a weapon?  Would someone hear screams despite the weather?  Could a help signal be flashed?

 

I wasn’t thinking what I should do. I created a character and wondered what she would do.

But having enough reality to know I should ensure my own safety, I walked around the trailer and checked doors and windows.  I didn’t want to get stuff wet and wanted to be sure I would stay alone in the Bad-Guys-Are-Out-There-Storm.

I was SURE I had locked both doors securely, but found the back door not only unlocked, but opened just a teensy tiny bit. The door was shut, but not latched, so easily could have been pushed open. My character and I I checked in the closets and  the bathtub. Both were empty.

 

When the  tension and drama in my “scene” were high, along with my heart rate,  I managed to locate my cell phone and call my hubby.

We laughed.

He’s getting used to being married to a writer. He let me replay the scene in my mind as if he were reading a page from my book, then we said our I love yous and good nights.

I went back to writing at the formica table.

 

The curtains behind the couch moved.

A  person might really be hiding there…

9 thoughts on “I Write Scenes in My Head

  1. shrey

    I can relate very well to this. Not only does it help me make boring occasions fun and lively for myself and at times other and also helps me write, it also adds to my paranoia. There are a lot of times when i could swear on my collection of games that i saw a ghost or heard a noise which nobody else seems to hear. Unsettling at times.

    Reply
  2. Lydia

    I do that all the time. But I don’t actually write. Maybe when My baby(s) isn’t a baby anymore I’ll write a book about my embellished life 🙂

    Reply
  3. wholeheartedhome

    Good thing I am not alone!! This reminds me of a time when my hubby was working the night shift and I was ‘alone’ with seven kids 14 down to 2 years. There was someone at large who would go up to a woman’s house and ….you know the rest…kill her. Well, I got myself sooo scared when normally I am not.

    Reply
    1. Mindy Peltier

      Judy, I did the same thing when my husband traveled. The kids got into a night time routine with me of checking doors and windows! After awhile, my husband bought me one of the biggest maglight flashlights and I kept that next to the bed. Light, weapon, I was prepared!

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s