“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own
When do you come up with your brightest ideas? At night when your alone and can think without the stresses of life? Or during the chaos of the day when your not actually thinking and it just comes to you? I was organizing my garage the other day with my mom and I started laughing. She of course asked why since we hadn’t been talking, and I was collapsing boxes, hardly an amusing task. I had come up with a witty conversation for my book that was hilarious enough to laugh at while in a dusty dank garage, and I couldn’t help but think maybe I am truly insane. Ever since I was a small child I would come up with fantastical tales and enamored my fellow peers with the outlandish stories. I think my family assumed I would grow out of it, but no matter how much I tried to stop it because it was ‘unnatural’, my mind would continue against my own will with the stories developing the characters and plots over years until I would write them down. Even now I still go back to them with new ideas that pop into my mind at seemingly random times during the day. I have scoured the internet to try to find an article showing differences in writer’s brains compared to a normal person’s brain, but haven’t been successful. I couldn’t imagine a president sitting there and thinking of a book idea, and I couldn’t see myself being president, so whether it’s a brain difference or difference in my soul, I will never be free unless I am doing what I was meant to do, and that’s write.