Writers have to have a pretty good imagination but many people having a good imagination are not writers. Imagination is a gift–if used in the right way. The dictionary says imagination is the ability to come up with new and creative ideas. I would add, “flights of fancy”. Fiction is the result of somebody’s imagination, of asking that essential question, “What if?” and, for a time, to suspend disbelief. Some creative ideas sound so plausible that they really trick the listener into mistaking them for truth. As a teacher, I met my share of youngsters with excellent imaginations. Discerning fact from fiction came only from experience for this gullible adult. One trick I learned was to watch the speaker’s eyes. If they widened perceptibly or narrowed, it was a sign that words were only following where their minds lead them–and that was way off the road of Truth.
Anyway, I too am meandering this morning. What I meant to discuss was old-time radio shows. They relied not only on the imagination of the writer but also on the ability of the listener to create mental images of what was not seen but heard. Lately, I’ve listened to a few of these shows, and “returned with them to those thrilling days of yesteryear.” From the 1940s and 1950s, I’ve heard “Gunsmoke”, “Burns and Allen”, “Amos and Andy”, “The Sixshooter”, and several others. Vincent Price’s voice could conjure up just as many chills through the radio as it did in movies and television. Jimmy Stewart’s manner of speaking let the listener know that he was usually a good guy and trustworthy.
In the old days, before television, radio had its share of soap operas too. “Stella Dallas”, “One Man’s Family”, “Lorenzo Jones”, and many others invited their fans into on-going adventures, continued from one day to the next. My dad’s mother lived with us for a time and she was a big fan of soap operas. Crippled with arthritis and in a wheel chair, Granny Day, looked forward to these soap operas and the people who provided a respite from her painful physical limitations.
I’ve written stories from the time I was a little girl. I was also gifted with parents who made sure I knew the difference between fact and fiction–or, more bluntly–between truth and downright lies. They let me know early on that make-believe was fine but when truth was called for, I’d better know the difference between telling it like it actually was and the way I wished it to be. However, knowing that difference in no way blunted my penchant for asking, “Why?” or “What if?” and penning some adventures. As a writer, I enjoy living in the real world of family and friends and many blessings. I also enjoy sitting down at the computer, putting my fingers on the keyboard, and soaring off into another realm, that wonderful place that exists only in my imagination.
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