Photo by fannfango, Morguefile.com
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In
the July/August 2012 Writer’s Digest, Celia Johnson wrote about “bolts of
inspiration” that have influenced authors. Apparently E.B. White was walking
through an orchard, on his way to visit some pigs when he considered a large
spider that had woven a web in his house. Bam, Charlotte of Charlotte’s Web was born.
Celia
Johnson also wrote about how a sixteen-year-old C.S. Lewis daydreamed about a
half-man, half-goat rushing through snowy woods with an umbrella and packages.
Mr. Lewis remembered this image twenty-four years later and used this hoofed character
in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
I find these anecdotes fascinating. Yet, I’ll admit to being a pinch envious. I don’t
think I’ve ever been inspired on my way to visit pigs. And I’m pretty sure I
didn’t daydream about half-man goats at sixteen. In fact, I don’t recall ever
being jolted by inspiration as if stung by a live wire. Sure, ideas come my way
and some intrigue me, but (as of yet) nothing as dramatic as a half-animal toting
an umbrella (not to mention packages). And, as much as I adore Charlotte’s
Web, I doubt a spider will ever inspire me to do anything but scoot away
from it (probably with a squeal). My ideas are more like seeds that require
planting, cultivating, and nurturing before there is even the possibility of
them growing into anything that might be useful.
How
about you? Have you ever experienced the full on kick of inspiration? I’d love
to read about it--and be envious of you, too.