I was having a recent discussion with another author, and we were joking about pen names. They hide our “secret identities” (mine is less and less secret as time goes on *winks*).
She said, “We just need superpowers.”
Then it came to me. We have them. We have superpowers. All of us. It’s called imagination. It’s called creativity. It doesn’t always translate well into the physical world, but sometimes it does.
Let me explain. Authors create. We create worlds and people and situations and villains. Then we take that thing we created, put it into words, and give it to you to enjoy. When you read the words, you yourself create it in turn. You take what we give you and then you imagine what you will from it, and you make it your own.
It’s kind of beautiful when you think about it.
And it’s not just writers. It’s all artists. It’s chefs. It’s singers and dancers and people who like to craft. It’s architects and engineers and florists. It’s hair stylists and the manicurist and the lawn guy. It’s the parent who makes a smiley face pancake and the child who helps to “reorganize” the pantry.
When you think on it further, it doesn’t matter the “grandness” of the creation, it just matters that a person creates. Because when you stop creating and imagining, you die a little inside. Every person has hopes and dreams. To make them a reality you have to imagine them first.
It’s our superpower, every one of us – and though I sometimes wish for claws of adamantium – it’s still a pretty awesome superpower.