I’ve run into a question ever since I decided to embark on the path of becoming an author.
Why do you write?
It’s not a simple answer. Nay, this is a very complicated response that harkens back to when I was in my teens with a diary my brothers were always taking to read and tease me about my crush of the week. It goes back to when I’d put ideas in my head on paper, in a notebook long consigned to the trash, in order to make sense of the thoughts I was having.
The simple response is that I have a vivid imagination. The more complicated answer is that I observe the human condition and imagine how things would be if this or that were to happen.
An author probably has the hardest time explaining to those who aren’t in their field why they do this lonely occupation. For it is just that, even in this era of social media connections. No one is with us except the characters coming to life in our heads as we immortalize their demands in electronic bytes. But let me try to explain to the uninitiated exactly what this process is…
I write because there are people with stories to be told. They aren’t real people. You won’t meet them on the street. They may live in a small town or a big city. Their lives might be in the present or the past, or even the future. What they’re facing may seem insurmountable or insignificant, depending on how you view them. But they all have one thing in common.
There is a story to be told; one that will interest someone else, touch a chord within them, or make them think about a situation.
These non-existent individuals are very much alive to me as I convey their story to readers. They have lives wherever they exist. There are families, friends, even enemies that have their own agenda that must come out in the tale being woven. While I’m staring at a computer monitor, letting my fingers reveal the tale, I’m seeing the place where they live in vivid color. I can sense their emotions, the depth of their feelings, smell the aromas of their world, hear the sounds of whatever incident has them captured in a difficult moment.
Some might say with all these characters bursting out of my head that I should seek assistance from a mental health professional. That’s the furthest thing from my thoughts because once I finish the story demanding to be told, my characters are mute, happy that they’ve sent their saga has been given to others experiencing the same thing in their lives.
Yes, that’s right. My characters are giving people a reason to cry, to laugh, to scream with joy, or release heart-wrenching sobs. They are meant to pull you, the reader, into a different world, allow you escape from whatever is dragging you into a morass of emotions, and give you an enjoyable experience for however long it takes you to digest their lives.
If, by some chance, you happen to discover that you’ve gone through exactly this same problem and find solace in how my characters worked out their difficulties, they are dancing for joy. Sometimes, they demand a return performance, but usually they are satisfied they managed to entertain you for the time you allowed these friends into your life.
About the K.C. Sprayberry
Born and raised in Southern California’s Los Angeles basin, K.C. Sprayberry spent years traveling the United States and Europe while in the Air Force before settling in northwest Georgia. A new empty nester with her husband of more than twenty years, she spends her days figuring out new ways to torment her characters and coming up with innovative tales from the South and beyond.
She’s a multi-genre author who comes up with ideas from the strangest sources. Those who know her best will tell you that nothing is safe or sacred when she is observing real life. In fact, she considers any situation she witnesses as fair game when plotting a new story.
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