Imagination is a necessary tool when you’re a writer, but there are some times when I’m less appreciative of it. Here are three occasions I wish I could be less imaginative:
I don’t feel well and I wonder what I have. A quick search of the internet tells me that I might have the flu. Or perhaps smallpox, bubonic plague, or ebola. Spend the next few days looking for redness in my eyes or enlarged, blackened lymph nodes.
Solution: Do not use the internet to diagnose illnesses.
In the ocean
I might have seen a shadow underwater while swimming in the ocean. Flashback to Shark Week. Evaluate clothing for shark attractants. Oh no, my rings must emulate the shimmer of fish scales and my swimsuit is harbor seal black! Retreat to shore, sure I will be munched by a monstrous great white any moment.
Solution: Do not swim in the ocean.
Middle of the night
I wake up at 3am and hear something downstairs. I try to convince myself it’s just the cats, but perhaps it is someone breaking in. Someone has surely targeted me for the next victim in his serial killer spree. But no, could it be a zombie breaking in? Nah, that’s just plain silly!
Solution: Stop watching Criminal Minds.
Do you ever think your imagination is sometimes a curse? What crazy things has it convinced you of?