Have you ever been somewhere and felt that twinge of familiarity–as if you’ve been there before? You recognize the moment or landscape or aroma…or even something that was said. It’s as if you’ve already lived that moment and are repeating it again, for some reason.
Many brush off those rare Deja vu moments of life. But for those who stop and listen, Deja vu is real.
The shift that happens for a writer, usually from one genre to another, is likely because one of the silent characters has decided to remain silent no longer. He (or she) screams their thoughts until their words permeat mine. It is then that I go to stillness, listen, and begin typing what I hear them say.
Today, the shift happened. I was drawn to the image of an abandoned building – the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum in Weston, West Virgina to be exact.
I realized I was the one being haunted — visited by the spirit of a Celtic witch, who was kidnapped and survived life at sea with pirates. A story of survival. She obviously has more for me and I need to listen.