Yesterday, I took Boo for a “meet and greet.” In a few weeks, she is going to spend time with a dog sitter while I travel across the state to a family event. I found the sitter on Rover.com, and we were meeting her and her family in advance of our trip. Side note: Boo is going to have so much fun with those boys!!
Anyway, to get to the sitter’s home, we drove through a lot of farmland, the majority of it planted in corn. Tall, thick corn fields painted a deep green.
But for a moment, I was confused. Because in my WIP, I am in that same farmland but it is November and turning cold and bitter. And I couldn’t reconcile tall green fields with the grays of November where I was living in my head. Why weren’t the corn stalks all dried up and chopped down?
Of course, that moment of confusion passed, and my brain said, “It’s August, Robin. The corn hasn’t been harvested yet. Duh.” And suddenly I was back in the real world instead of my imaginary one.
Many years ago, I had spent the day searching my brain for a particular phrase that I wanted a character to exclaim. It was one of those on-the-tip-of-my-tongue things, but I just couldn’t find the words I wanted. Then, in the middle of the night, I sat up in bed, suddenly awake, and exclaimed those two missing words—as if I were the character in my story. As someone I know likes to say, “Writers are weird.”
Well, I guess I can’t argue with that. I am weird. I’m a writer, and it’s so easy to go live in the stories in my head.
What was the last book you read that pulled you into another place or time so that you were momentarily confused by the reality around you?