Paul Whybrow
Full Member
I previously postedabout imaginary friends, but last night, I had one of those horrible moments of clarity, where objectivity and subjectivity collided. I was editing my WIP, and inadvertently passed the mouse over the system tray of my Linux operating system, which has a feature that shows the desktop—my manuscript disappeared to reveal the dark shot of the universe I'd chosen as wallpaper that morning—making a mirror that revealed my reflection. It was like looking at my imaginary friend, the weirdo writer who labours long and hard to write crime novels. I looked at him for a moment, before popping back into my own mind, assailed with thoughts, such as 'Why are you doing this?', Where are you going with the plot? and 'Will anyone ever read it?'
I was, for a moment, reminded of an incident from 59 years ago, an early act of creation that I thought looked great, but which got me into trouble. As a young child, I was on my tod for three years, until my twin sisters were born. They were lovable, but a united faction as only twins can be, so, maybe to compensate, I invented an imaginary friend called Peter, who only I could see. Handily, he got the blame for any naughty things that I did, the worst being picking the petals off 100 tulips my mother had planted in the front garden flowerbeds, and arranging them in colourful geometric patterns on the path!
I did so, to impress my sweet five-year-old friend Helen, whose mum, our next-door-neighbour, was babysitting me—thus, heralding many acts of tomfoolery to win the hearts of women. My mother was less than impressed, when she came home, to find an army of green stalks pointing at the sky, the leaves flopped earthwards, while I tried to reattach the petals. But, it wasn't my fault—Peter did it!
Being a writer means weaving deceit into a pattern that a reader can use to clothe their imaginations. AsIsaac Bashevis Singer said:
When I was a little boy they called me a liar, but now that I am grown up, they call me a writer.
Adults carry around good and bad angels, who sit on their shoulders offering conflicting advice. Writers are constantly in contact with a lunatic asylum of fictional characters, who soon take over their waking and sleeping thoughts.
Ideally, when reading a story, we forge a friendly relationship with our favourite characters. For children, in particular, a fictional friend can be a comfort and a source of inspiration. As a ten-year-old, I was emboldened by Tarzan of the Ape's courage and determination—rumours that I still wear a leopard skin loincloth are largely untrue.
Tarzan's creator, Edgar Rice Burroughs, made an interesting comment on existence and the imagination:
They say that none of us exists, except in the imagination of his fellows, other than as an intangible, invisible mentality.
Strangely, Burroughs' creation Tarzan lent his name to a California settlement that the author encouraged to grow, and which is now incorporated into Los Angeles. Tarzana is one of the few places named after a fictional character.
It's been found, that children who have imaginary friends are more creative:
Kids with Imaginary Friends Are More Creative
Such creativity may spur a rich artistic career, though if the stimulus mutates into uncontrollable hallucinations a diagnosis of schizophrenia will result. Author E.L. Doctorow reckoned that 'Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia', but there are limits to what society will tolerate.
Among writers, Zelda Fitzgerald, Richard Brautigan, Robert M. Pirsig, Philip K. Dick and Jack Kerouac were diagnosed with schizophrenia. Artistic types tend to suffer with mental illness more than the general population, though the effects can be beneficial for their creativity. Bipolarism, anxiety and depression are rife, but schizophrenia stalks authors in particular.
It's a slippery tightrope that we walk.
Did you have an imaginary friend, as a child or teenager?
Do you share your life with someone now? Creative You and Normal You?
Do your children share their lives with an invisible ally?
I was, for a moment, reminded of an incident from 59 years ago, an early act of creation that I thought looked great, but which got me into trouble. As a young child, I was on my tod for three years, until my twin sisters were born. They were lovable, but a united faction as only twins can be, so, maybe to compensate, I invented an imaginary friend called Peter, who only I could see. Handily, he got the blame for any naughty things that I did, the worst being picking the petals off 100 tulips my mother had planted in the front garden flowerbeds, and arranging them in colourful geometric patterns on the path!
I did so, to impress my sweet five-year-old friend Helen, whose mum, our next-door-neighbour, was babysitting me—thus, heralding many acts of tomfoolery to win the hearts of women. My mother was less than impressed, when she came home, to find an army of green stalks pointing at the sky, the leaves flopped earthwards, while I tried to reattach the petals. But, it wasn't my fault—Peter did it!
Being a writer means weaving deceit into a pattern that a reader can use to clothe their imaginations. AsIsaac Bashevis Singer said:
When I was a little boy they called me a liar, but now that I am grown up, they call me a writer.
Adults carry around good and bad angels, who sit on their shoulders offering conflicting advice. Writers are constantly in contact with a lunatic asylum of fictional characters, who soon take over their waking and sleeping thoughts.
Ideally, when reading a story, we forge a friendly relationship with our favourite characters. For children, in particular, a fictional friend can be a comfort and a source of inspiration. As a ten-year-old, I was emboldened by Tarzan of the Ape's courage and determination—rumours that I still wear a leopard skin loincloth are largely untrue.
Tarzan's creator, Edgar Rice Burroughs, made an interesting comment on existence and the imagination:
They say that none of us exists, except in the imagination of his fellows, other than as an intangible, invisible mentality.
Strangely, Burroughs' creation Tarzan lent his name to a California settlement that the author encouraged to grow, and which is now incorporated into Los Angeles. Tarzana is one of the few places named after a fictional character.
It's been found, that children who have imaginary friends are more creative:
Kids with Imaginary Friends Are More Creative
Such creativity may spur a rich artistic career, though if the stimulus mutates into uncontrollable hallucinations a diagnosis of schizophrenia will result. Author E.L. Doctorow reckoned that 'Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia', but there are limits to what society will tolerate.
Among writers, Zelda Fitzgerald, Richard Brautigan, Robert M. Pirsig, Philip K. Dick and Jack Kerouac were diagnosed with schizophrenia. Artistic types tend to suffer with mental illness more than the general population, though the effects can be beneficial for their creativity. Bipolarism, anxiety and depression are rife, but schizophrenia stalks authors in particular.
It's a slippery tightrope that we walk.
Did you have an imaginary friend, as a child or teenager?
Do you share your life with someone now? Creative You and Normal You?
Do your children share their lives with an invisible ally?
Imaginary friend as a little girl...not as such, but I did tell ghost stories that frightened other children. Not because I liked frightening them, I was mostly very gentle unless very angry, never a difficult child, but something was frightening me. One got me sent to the headmaster who sat me ever so kindly on his lap and asked if anything was worrying me? He rang my mother who said I had been eating apples at bed time and had nightmares. I told a story to two little boys my own age, visiting for tea. The thing was coming down the stairs right now, I told them. One ran straight through a glass door and had to go to ER. One night I saw the leopard moving, a Rousseau print on our bedroom wall, and pretty soon my sisters saw it too and we were all screaming.
