I Do Believe in Faeries, I Do!

Why is everyone so obsessed with vampires and angels and demons? Is it a way to explain the little things? Now, I know that I’m not a fantasy writer, but this question has been bugging me a lot lately. Mostly, it’s because I don’t want to admit that I’m losing my mind.

Let me explain. I keep misplacing things. I’ll put something down, say a phone or my keys, and purposely think, “This is where I left this.” Later, I go to get them, and they’re gone! Yes, gone. I know, it’s magic. Seriously though, I will search the entire house, make myself late, and look like a fool only to find my phone sitting on the radio that’s hidden behind armchairs, or my keys in the dirty clothes. (I’m not sure why I looked in the dirty clothes in the beginning, but apparently it worked.) Now I know the obvious, logical answer to this madness: I’m just forgetting. But that’s too easy an answer. How can I not POSSIBLY, AT ALL remember that I put my phone on the radio, when I didn’t even come out to the living room that morning. No, my friends, it was obviously the Fey. Or maybe a demon intent on making my life miserable. Maybe even a vampire, luring me out to–no, that one’s too far of a stretch.

Honestly, I’m too proud to admit that at the ripe old age of twenty-something I’m already losing my mind. At least as a writer, I can give it some fictional name. Some people might actually believe me, too, if I said aliens abducted my keys. Heck, there’s commercials with aliens beaming up cell phones from cows. How far of a stretch can that be? Alas…too many of my friends are rooted in reality. While I see little green men (be they alien or fae) and horned devils with mischief on their minds, my friends see a sleep-deprived mother bumbling through her house. When I see beady black eyes watching me from the bushes, they see abnormal paranoia. (I refuse to believe that I’m paranoid, by the way. Leaving the hallway light on so you can see the vampires coming is completely normal. Plus it scares away the ghosts when they come to stare at you.)

Maybe I should just give in to the inevitable, buy myself a key beeper, and surrender to the call of the wild–wildly forgetful. ….Nope, I can’t do it. I’m telling you, there are little people out there stealing my keys. That HAS to be where these fantasy stories came from. Everything has a little truth in it, right? Hmmm…


About S. G. Ricketts

I am a dreamer. This page holds all of the dreams and desires and hopes and wishes of the first of my two dreams: to share my imagination with the world. For those of you who have read a book or written a book, these stories are not merely words on a page. They are living, breathing creatures, worlds so compellingly real that you can smell the sweat and feel the rain. This is what I want to share ...with all of you. Yes, becoming rich and famous would be fabulous. I won't deny that. However, it would be so much more satisfying to see my book in the hands of someone on the bus, hear my book talked about at a restaurant, see a cluster of fan-art. I want to inspire the mind to imagine different worlds and different situations. If I can achieve that, I will have achieved my dream.

Posted on March 11, 2010, in Musing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. I totally agree with you Stevie and I hope that you don’t feel like your crazy because your not. It is totally normal to want to blame things that happen on things that may not even exist, hell I do it often enough but on the other hand I liek to

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