A couple days ago, as I sat at the computer with the opening paragraphs of my finished-but-not-quite novel on the screen awaiting another edit, I glanced out the window hoping for some brilliant inspiration. It was a gloomy day, nothing much to look at, and my mind drifted. Then, just above my line of focus, I saw something jump from one tree to another. My first thought was Oh … a monkey! My second thought was HUH?!?!?!
Now, in case you don’t know, I live in central California.There are no monkeys in the wild here. I’ve never lived where there were. So, why would my mind think such a thing? What strange things our minds are … and maybe especially, the mind of a fiction writer. I make things up. I imagine people, places, and events. Why not transform an ordinary squirrel into a monkey?
Oh! Wait … is my subconscious telling me I should have a monkey in my novel’s opening?