I first heard about a book called "The Indian In The Cupboard" in 1995 when Hollywood created a movie based on the story. This 1980's manuscript from British author Lynne Reid Banks tells the tale of nine year old Omri receiving an old cupboard as a gift for his birthday. He soon begins a magical adventure when one of his toy indians suddenly comes to life after being locked inside.
For some reason I woke up early this morning thinking about this movie and how it relates to my writing. I LOVE the movie and was disappointed when Hollywood decided making 35 million simply wasn't enough to pursing making more of Ms. Banks books into movies. But for me, one was enough to make the connection.
A writer's mind can be crammed with all manner of ideas just waiting to jump out and dance across screen or paper as they come to life. Sometimes we don't know what is behind this door but we can feel the essence within. Tugging at us. Sometimes teasing us into wondering if we will every satisfy this constant urge to write. Frustrating us into doubting if we have chosen the right path.
And then there are times when we open that door and discover MAGIC! A time when something takes over and we find ourselves on the adventure of a lifetime...weaving and blending words like some mystical potion, drawing our readers in and leaving them breathless.
I'm not cut from the same cloth as those Hollywood movie moguls. I am not driven by money when I sit down at my computer to write. I create my worlds for the pure joy of it. I draw pleasure from the anticipation of waiting to discover what is behind this door of mine. Wondering what wonders will be uncovered if I am brave enough to just open the door and peak inside...