The idea of magic had been a constant in my life, right up until high school. The miserable time I had seemed to kill off my inner stardust. When I was little, my cousin and I had imaginary horses. We would stand on my nana’s street holding invisible reins. On my own, I would hold onto an invisible lead that was attached to my imaginary cat.
Christmas was (and still is) my favourite time of year. When you’re in primary school, you get to watch films just before you break for the holidays. We would make our own paper snowflakes, cuff garlands, Christmas cookies. The most magical thing we did was sit around the Christmas tree in the sports hall and sing Christmas carols.
Then when I’d get home, the local rotary club would send Santa round the area on his sleigh blaring music. I’d see the sheer mass of lights coming down your street and mum would send me out with a £1 to get a lollipop or chocolate coins.
One Christmas morning, I came down to the living room and saw two snowy footprints on the carpet. I was bursting with excitement, tearing off the wrapping paper, downing cups of tea. Some of my favourite things to watch at Christmas were: Tweenies’ Christmas Special (on VHS), Mickey’s Christmas Carol (also on VHS), Elouise at Christmas, and The Grinch. Mum and I would wake up at 6am and go downstairs to watch films.
In 2005, school took my class to watch The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I distinctly remember taking sour apple chews as one of my snacks. I left the cinema desperate to find a wardrobe myself! It being a frosty day was an added bonus!
Magic was such an important part of me for so many years. Dad and I would have pretend lightsaber fights in the living room. I didn’t realise I had lost it until very recently. Writing had become focused solely on climbing the ladder instead of partially fun. The experience of knowing I am to be a big sister soon made me rediscover the fantasies I loved growing up.
This was when I had the idea to write original tales for my sibling to read when they get older. Off the back of that, I decided all the stories would take place in the same fantastical world. Laying in bed a few nights ago, I came up with the land of Pozzywallah.
I decided that both children and adults alike could potentially enjoy these fantastical stories I am going to be creating. The first story I am writing is a retelling of Frankenstein. Rekindling the fun in play is what’s important. As adults, we are told we have to forego play in order to survive, but the mind cannot sustain itself on purely menial work.
The ability to lose yourself in a world that isn’t your own is a valuable one. Aside from this project, I am writing other short stories for adults. Yet I am still exploring the magic of creation. I can say that for the first time in many years, I am having fun.
The mind is a powerful tool. If left in the right environment, all one has to do is close one’s eyes, and they be transported to another world. This is where I want to be from here on out. I have realise that I can still further my career while having fun at the same time. All it takes is a lot of patience: something I am trying to familiarise myself with.
In Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry is taken through Tom Riddle’s diary. That singular image sustained me through many-a-Sunday at my grandparent’s house. Nana would make me breakfast and tea before we sat in the lounge and watched Harry Potter. These fantastical places accepted me for who I was. I wasn’t the outsider anymore, nor bullied or kicked in the back. One day, I was eating Turkish delight in a snowy land, and the next I was falling down a rabbit hole. All I had to do was close my eyes and open my mind.
A technique I’ve been trying is constantly thinking of the story I am writing. When I lie in bed, I think of more ideas, the characters, and where the story could go. By doing this, you germinate the idea. Reading can get you excited about your own story too. Take stock of your surroundings. I live in the countryside with access to cities and towns, so I see a lot of nature. Though it doesn’t have to be where you live: it can be places you travel to. Pull inspiration from the smallest moments and get excited about the details. Plenty writers underestimate the influence their environment has on them.
Overall, trying to rediscover the magic in creation is a lovely thing. Losing the ability to feel excited by writing without the prospect of publishing as being a main factor. I want these stories to be seen and enjoyed, but I also need to acclimatise to the journey before anything else.
Courtenay's Corner 
It’s, really, hard, to keep that, wonderment of a child we had intact, especially when we’d been told by our adult counterparts to grow up, to, hurry along, and that leaves us, without the slow and needed time, for to, live out our, childhood years from start to, finish, which is why, as adults, we develop, a ton of, mental disorders, which we are now, on, heavy medications for, to, get rid of, only, the symptoms, while the problems still, don’t resolved, because, there’s NO way for us to, return back to those, childhood years of ours to, FIX, what went, wrong.
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For me, it was a bunch of traumatic things that happened when I was twenty-one that likely caused it. The last few years have been filled with extreme stress at points.
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