I just gave birth to a universe.
It’s midnight and I’m about to fall into a slumber – okay, technically no… I was scrolling mindlessly on my phone, a little bit sleepy but unwilling to close my eyes. I had just been reading Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo and musing on how much of a sucker I am for heist adventures (especially, one with a mix of fantasy and magical powers laced in with the plot!) when I decide to search articles for heists that had been successfully done in real life. “Successful” by way of saying that it was a mystery, nobody still knows who did it but I was just as intrigued by those who got caught and hearing the explanations behind the plans are just so fascinating and interesting, I keep on scrolling despite my droopy eyes begging to start playing the night’s dream sequence.
I also kept scrolling because I was procrastinating having to finish the book – only 50 pages left – I’m in denial that I’m about to end the adventure and I will have to wait for the second one to come out, but I digress.
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, a very tired and very impatient neuron must have gone ahead of schedule and played the dream sequence anyway; my mind melding dream land with reality quite sufficiently. After a brief period of ‘unconcentration’ – which is what I call the instances when I try very hard to concentrate reading a sentence but it doesn’t register for, at least, the third time reading it over – the article I’m reading about the mystery of several art thefts suddenly, Makes Sense.
I know who stole it and I know how they did it… Theoretically. Who were they? What were they? Why are they doing this? When? Where? The answers and explanations rolled through my mind, weaving themselves into the world that had opened up in my mind.
It took me another few minutes to realise I had opened up a can of worms; questions to contradict myself which is often an occurrence when I try to come up with a story or a plot. It took me a bit more to come up with answers to my own questions and I wasn’t about to lose these thoughts in my preambling before I go to sleep. I grabbed the nearest pen and notebook and started writing, even more Q&A being popped for three more pages until I finally stop and read back.
This has always been my favourite part of writing stories: the brainstorm. A hurricane of ideas that wreaks an organised chaos.
I just birthed a universe. Albeit one very similar to reality, but with considerable reasoning behind the plot holes in the mysteries of Earth. I don’t have a solid plot or a solid story arc, nor any characters. But I have a world with communities, laws, policies, dreams, goals, fears, insecurities, secrets and its own mysteries to solve.
She who loves midnights, JY