Real or Imagined

I am a storyteller as a writer. I have written stories about elfin secret agents, little girls as the foot soldiers of villainy, armies of barefoot clone women and two black women who serial kill young white women. I am writing a novel about a Nazi sorcerer and his apprentice, his teenage daughter.

I have been asked why everything I write is weird. It is suggested I should try writing about normal things. I should fictionalize my own life or write a historical fiction. Many people tell me fiction is fake and I am knowledgeable, so I should write non-fiction.

I drew pictures before I wrote stories. I turned my daydreams into images. I imagined fantastic scenarios rather than wishful thinking. I enjoyed reading stories and was inspired to write my own.

We live in reality. What is the point of me writing about it? I would rather dream while awake as I do when I sleep. My thoughts are inward when I do so. I learn about myself by turning the dreams into images and stories.

Many people travel the world. They eat exotic foods. They learn different languages. They are nonentities in their own lives. They are sponges rather than people. I would rather be a person, and that means an individual.

I am not the world. I am myself. The world is only important because I live in it. It is unimportant otherwise.

Of course I live in a country and eat its food. I use its language to articulate thoughts. I am what I am regardless. Of course I am inspired by the world. The world itself is uninspiring, however. It is my imagination that makes things interesting. I use the skills I learn and the materials available but what I make is what I craft. The artistry is entirely mine.

I create. This is the difference between me and those who learn rather than imagine.

https://www.deviantart.com/yellowplasma