I’m attached to my books.
An invisible IV runs from my veins to the words on the shining screen. That’s why, when I’m at a store and see something that reminds me of my book, I must buy it.
Nearly three years ago, I bought two Coke bottles proudly bearing the names Matthew and Samantha. Samantha was the main character of my first book, and Matthew was the love interest. I promised myself I wouldn’t drink the coke until I published the book.
I was so close to publishing it at one point. But $2000 short.
From a photoshoot I did inspired by my book And Death Laughed
They still sit in my room. Gross, I know, but I can’t get rid of them. They’re sagging in since the liquid inside is so old, but they stand proudly on my desk, reminding me of my mission here on earth.
One of the themes of my latest novel, The Memory Jumper, is being brave. So when I found a necklace with a key bearing the word “brave” I got goosebumps and knew I had to buy it.
When I was at the Denver airport, I saw a scene with a digital image of a landscape. It was almost exactly how I imagined the screen in the Memory Jumper to be (except in my version the image is less pixelated and usually moves as well).
My book really does exist.
Every time a writer picks up their pen (or clicks their mouse) a new dimension is born.
And what’s amazing is that maybe, someday, a reader who claims you as their favorite author will see that necklace . . . see that Coke bottle . . .
And they’ll be reminded of the world which you created.
What reminds you of your book? What motifs have you unconsciously set in there? Do you ever see objects that belong in your book and point them out to friends or family?