Monday Rambling - Feeling at Home and Story Building
Bear with me, I'm going to be serious for a second.
For the last couple of weeks I was staying fulltime at a condo that my roommate is housesitting. It's where I've done all my live readings so far. I've crashed there on the weekend, but for Christmas time I sort of relocated there fulltime since we couldn't go back home to our families. It's a legal way at the moment to have a bit of a change of scenery in the midst of quarantining.
I went back to my own apartment this weekend, and I had this sort of strange realization. I didn't have this deep gut feeling of relief of "aaaah, I'm finally home" one. I didn't feel that. I was glad to be back in my bed because it's insanely comfortable, but I didn't feel like everything was just a bit better and felt just right because I was home.
It's something I've thought about a bit in the last few years. My father sold the house where I grew up. And even then, the last few times I had gone back to that house, it hadn't felt like home.
I haven't felt truly, deeply at home since coming back to that my childhood house years ago. I know the whole "home isn't a place, it's people" thing. I know it, and it's true that I feel more at home per say when I'm back at my mother's house.
But for some reason, that feeling is just not there yet. Not completely.
I kind of have a glimpse of this feeling when I'm back at the Cap-à-l'Orignal, which is where my family used to live, before we got expropriated and the place turned into the Bic National Park. If I smell the sea and the savage roses, I feel more at home.
I've felt it driving up to the lake in Texas, going back to that little apartment for the winter and falling asleep on the couch watching movies with my "big brother".
I used to say that home for me was where water is, because the places where I've felt more at home were always close to a body of water.
I sort of get sad, thinking that it's just not something I've felt in so long, feeling completely and utterly at home.
The point of this rant? When people ask me what inspires me to write, it's thoughts like these. I start with an idea. What is home? What if someone hasn't felt at home for a while? And why? Who's that person?
From there, the ideas spin and a story forms.
I'm not saying I have a new story idea, don't worry. I'm just saying, that these kind of thoughts are what you can use in your own writing to create a world and characters more credible.
These thoughts and these feelings are what make a story feel real. Lexi's pain in "I Sold.." over her family breaking up felt real because it was inspired by my own. Some of my character's pains and insecurities feel relatable, because they come from somewhere real.
You don't necessarily need to start a story with a complex plot in mind. You can create a story around a feeling.
With these words, I leave you alone. Byyyyyye.