The Honesty of Imagination

Ok. I'm ready to write. Cool. Um... what to write? What to write, what to write... uh...

I've... I've got nothing.

Nothing?

I've gotta have something. I'm a writer! I mean... it's in my title.

Ok. Uh... what are the main elements of a story? Characters, setting, plot, conflict... hmm, let's start with a character. Essential part of any character is their name, so... let's give them a name. Let's give them the name of... Lucia.

"Hello?"

What? Who said that? "Hello?"

"Yeah, I'm Lucia. You called me?"

"I... I didn't call you. I'm just thinking of a character for a story."

"Oooo... what kind of story?"

"I don't know yet. I've only come up with one character so far."

"Who's that?"

"Lucia."

"Oh! That's me!"

"But you can't be. I just created that character."

"Yeah, and that's me. That's my name."

"No, I..." Pause. This can't be happening. "Do you have a last name, Lucia?"

"No. Not yet I think."

"Would you like a last name?"

"How about... Thunderstruck! That would be such a cool name!"

"Lucia Thunderstruck? You've been listening to some AC/DC, have you?"

"No, but apparently you have!" She let out a short giggle.

"Uh... fair point. But still, how is this possible?"

"I don't know, but here I am!"

"And how come I can't see you?"

"Because you haven't given me a physical description, I guess."

"I'm assuming you want a physical description?"

"That would be nice!"

"Well, first, we have to figure out how old you are. How old do you want to be?"

"Twenty I think is a good year."

"You want to be twenty?"

"Oh! And put me in some college somewhere. I heard those are fun times."

"How would you know what college is like? Never mind. Twenty in college."

"Ohh! And put me with some cute boys in my class!"

"Wait, who's the writer here?! You know what? Fine. *One* cute guy in your class."

"Have his name be Lucious. Lucious and Lucia. Yeah! I like that!"

I put my head down. "Seriously? That is so cheesy... but it just might work. Hopefully the reader likes cheesy stuff like that."

"Of course! I need my girlfriends in the class too. All of them!"

"Since when did you decide to be one of these valley-type girls?"

"You're writing me this way, remember?" She lets out another high pitch giggle.

I sat there rolling my eyes. "Ugh. Fine. But I don't want you falling into this stereotypical dumb-blonde type. You're going to have intelligence. Got it?"

"Got it. I got a 36 on my ACT and got accepted to Stanford."

"Wait, wait, wait... let's not get carried away here. I want you to be a believable character... not someone who seems made up on the spot."

"My name is Lucia Thunderstruck. You really don't think people will realize that's a made-up name?"

I stare at the screen in slight disgust. "You're the one that picked that name, remember?"

"Yes, and you approved of it! So... it's really your fault." Another short laugh.

"I... don't remember writing 'feisty attitude' as one of your personality descriptions!"

"Really? You create a woman out of your imagination, giving her the name Lucia, from the valley, so she must be really attractive, and has intelligence, and you expect her to *not* have a feisty attitude? You're the one not being realistic here!"

"Now I know why I chose to stay single..." I murmured to myself.

"How about we go back to that hot guy in my class again?"

"Seriously? You care more about what the hot guy looks like than you do?"

"Well, of course I know I'm attractive. I don't need to worry about that. I want to know what the guy looks like so I can daydream of him while in class..."

"But... I don't even know what would make a guy hot! Unfortunately, I don't swing that way."

"I could help! He has a chiseled chin, dark tan skin. Maybe he's foreign! Oooooh! Can he be a foreign exchange student!?"

"Do I even have any say in my own story anymore?"

"Pleeeeeeeaaaaaaaaassssssssseeeee???"

"Ok... he's from -"

"Arkansas!"

"What? No! That's not even a foreign country!"

"No, no! I mean, he's from Arkansas, but his family moved here from a different country. He lived in a small town with only 200 people or something, and he worked at his family's farm, so he's nice and buff. But quiet and humble at the same time, since he didn't get a chance to go out and interact much."

"Really? I have three basic descriptions of you, and here you are, going into a whole in-depth backstory about this guy in your class!"

"Are you jealous that my writing skills are better than yours?" She snickers a bit.

"Wait, that wouldn't be possible, would it? How can your writing skills be better than mine when you're a product of my own writing?"

"No no, I'm a product of your *imagination*; not your writing. By creating me, you created *my* imagination, and now *my* imagination is helping *you* to write. Because if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be writing about anything."

"Is it possible that I wrote you too smart for your own good?"

"You did ask me to have intelligence. Be careful of what you ask for, ha ha!"

"At least you're more interesting than my last characters. They didn't even have names."

"You wrote characters that didn't even have names? That's horrible!"

"Yeah... probably won't do that again."

"Speaking of which, what is your name?"

"My name? You're asking about my name?"

"Yeah. You know my name. It's only fair that I know yours."

"Uh... my name is Jon."

"That's such a generic name. Ha ha. It's not a bad name though. Maybe there can be a Jon in my class!"

"Ok, sure. There's a Jon in your class."

"Oh oh! Let him be the super smart one! So you don't feel so inadequate about yourself!"

"Wow. Just rubbing salt into the wound, aren't you?"

"Aren't writers doing that all the time? Creating characters that make up for their own insecurities and inadequacies and unattainable desires?"

Uh... that is very true. It took me a minute to think of a response. "Well, then... what are you? What does your *existence* say about my insecurities and such? Since you're so smart and all."

"Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"There's no way that you can tell me what I don't know, so, fire away."

She took a deep inhale. "You've always been curious as to what it's like to live a life as a woman, but obviously have not taken that road practically, because there would be no mistaking you as a woman in any regard, but your imagination has always wandered down that road, and in an attempt to get more inside a woman's mind, you create what you think the ideal woman is, both in reality and for yourself, because you want to live vicariously through that woman and see what she sees, experience what she experiences, know what she knows, and think how she thinks. Also, being an extreme introvert and admittingly socially awkward, you feel that through this imagined woman, you would meet a vast number of people, all uniquely different, intriguing your fascination on how other people function more, thus, creating and living in this world that you have always wanted, but feel like you couldn't achieve in reality. Hence why you became a writer. Is all of that true?"

"36 on the ACT, eh?"

"And not just because of my looks!"

"How the hell did you get this smart??"

"Truth is the highest form of intelligence. You wrote me to be an intelligent person, therefore, I can see into the truth of things. That's how that works."

"I suppose so."

"Do you not believe that?"

"I've met some really smart people who are good at lying and manipulating, so I'm not sure."

"Sure, but they're using their intelligence of how people operate rather than making other people intelligent like them."

"Is that what you're doing?"

"Yes, which is why I would like to be either a professor or doctor."

"Why a doctor?"

"With intelligence, I can't think of a better use of it other than to teach others or help improve quality of life."

"You could be an inventor or an entrepreneur. They improve people's quality of life."

"Sure, but it's been shown throughout history that newer products haven't always improved the quality of life. It just makes life easier, not better."

"They make a hella lot of money though."

"All money does is give you purchasing power. It doesn't guarantee an improved life."

"Then what does?"

"Purpose, I would think."

"Purpose?"

"Yeah. For example, don't you feel better after creating me as a character?"

"Um, I guess?"

"Because once you created me, you had a purpose to write. Remember earlier, where you were struggling to write? But once you created me, you've pretty much written non-stop. You've found a purpose to write. And not only that, but you'll be curious to show other people once you're finished, so you'll have other people read it, possibly give feedback, and, at the minimum, hope that people enjoyed it, even if it was just for 5 minutes."

"Well, sure."

"But without you finding that purpose, you wouldn't be able to write this story with me as a character, and that 5 minutes that the reader read this story and enjoyed it, wouldn't exist."

"Yeah, but they could've read another story and enjoyed it just as much or enjoyed another story even more than this one."

"That is motivation. Motivation is wanting to be better than you were before or wanting to be better than another person. That is not purpose."

"I'm going to sound very ignorant, being the writer, but what is the difference?"

"To be as good as a writer as Ernest Hemingway or Stephen King is motivation, but not everyone who is a writer can ever come close to an Ernest Hemingway or Stephen King. This motivation, even though it is unachievable, can help the person be a better writer each time they write. However, their *purpose* comes from them being themselves and doing what they can do to the best of their ability, because without the person being who they are, and doing what they can do to contribute to society, then society would be forever lacking in both the person and contribution."

"But what if it's just some nobody? Like myself? I can assure you I have not done enough to contribute to society as a whole."

"No, but you also know that there's been at least a handful of people who have enjoyed your writing. And, with that, you have fulfilled your purpose, no matter how small it seemed at the time."

"That sounds kind of depressing though. My purpose is to only be the entertainment for a small number of people?"

"It may be small, and it may end up big, but either way, you're doing something that no one else has done before and no one else will do again. That alone, gives you unique purpose that no one else has. And that is what makes you happy and feel fulfilled. As is the case with everyone else."

"Funny enough that I never really thought about all of that until now. Are you sure you're not real?"

"The subconscious is real to some degree, ha ha, so, in a sense, I am real."

"Interesting. I'm glad I 'created' you. You gave me some good insight."

"Aww, thank you! You're sweet. Now... more about that hot guy in my class...?"