Pictures Worth Their Own Story

         

          As an author, I'm constantly imagining.  Everything I see goes through my eyes, is translated, and gets sent to the Creative Department, then it gets put in the What If? machine.  When I hear a song, I hear a possible story soundtrack.  When I see a picture, I see a potential story.  That's one of the reasons why I like Pinterest so much.  I have 15 boards dedicated to book ideas.  Here are some pictures that instantly bring stories to mind.

     

This picture could go several different ways.  The girl's body position suggests either independence or, added with her slightly red nose and squinty eyes, sadness.  When I see this picture, I can imagine many different things about this girl.  Here are just a few.  1) She's been through some tough situations and is silently asking (with her eyes) the one person who might be able to help her for any last minute ideas.  2) She has been waiting for this kind of a challenge her whole life and she's not daunted by the prospect at all.  3) She's a nature fey, just daring you to try to follow her.  If you try she'll disappear into the snow and trees.  4) She's scared of the coming winter and the dangers ahead.  But as scared as she may be, she's not going to let fear stop her from taking care of her little brother and sister.

 

No matter which way you interpret this picture, you can't escape the girl's sheer joy.  1) She's the outcast in her small farming village.  She's quiet and dreamy.  When she takes the cows out to the moors she takes her father's old violin with her and plays music that embodies the spirit of the moor flowers and the joy of the soaring moor birds.  2) She is playing for a group of enraptured village children, which include her own small siblings.  She plays all their favorite nursery tunes and makes up simple songs to go along with the fairy stories she tells them.  3) She's a Elvin maiden who plays enchanted music to make the flowers bloom and create dwellings out of living trees.  4) She has a secret ability to use magic when she plays her violin.  Right now she is making her teasing, elder brothers and their friends hop about as their shoe laces tie themselves into knots, the straw brooms try to sweep them away, and the slop buckets upend over their heads.



1) This girl has been hunted for years for a crime she didn't commit.  She is constantly on the move.  She never stays in the same place for long.  She'd hoped that they'd eventually stop searching for her.  But in twelve years they've never given up.  Right now she can hear the song of the red-eyed hounds baying in the distance.  The rain will give her a head start...but not for long...  2) They were after Patrick.  But he couldn't run any more.  She'd left him covered in blankets and brush in a thicket.  He'd protested, but he was too weak by now to do anything but whisper.  She'd given him water and waited for him to pass out again.  The fever hadn't lessened in over four days.  She had to lead them away.  She took Patrick's cloak and then made marks on the trees in a circle around him.  Old Mag would find him.  Hopefully before it was too late.  But now it was time to run.  Letting the long cloak drag on the ground she darted through the trees until the came to the edge of the rolling hills.  She stopped to catch her breath near a group of rocks.  There was no where to hide out there.  But she had no choice.  She knew they were only hours behind her.  Steeling herself, she loped steadily through the rain.

 

1) Bitterness scarred her heart.  She'd never go back to her mother's house.  She'd rather die at sea than spend one more day there.  Even the memory of her father couldn't keep her there anymore.  Her mother called her reckless.  Well she had no idea...  2) Anger hardened her resolve.  Betrayers!  I'll be back one day.  They'll see just how quick my rapier can be.  They'll feel the kiss of its bite.  I will take back my father's lands.  This is not good-bye.  Just a promise of future revenge.



1) She carried the sun around in her pocket.  Only when she danced did she take it out and hold it aloft.  2) She was the dancing sun beams.  She was the orange sunset.  She was beautiful.  She was graceful.  She was the wife of the sun.



 

 Every century it was the same.  An immortal sorceress lived on the edge of a wood and collected herbs for a living.  Once every century, on the solstice she headed into the dark icy wood until she reached a clearing that was more than half full with a very large, very old, white dragon.  She set down her basket and reached up to touch his snout.  "Good to see you old friend."  The dragon snorted a shower of icy sparks over her in response.  Smiling she reached for a handful of the contents of her basket.  little by little, she fed the thyme to the dragon.  He began to shrink and grow healthy again.  Soon he was the size of a strong yearling and came up only to her knee.  The sorceress dusted off her hands and stroked the dragon's wings.  He rubbed his head against her leg and nibbled playfully at the hem of her skirt.     



 As the final preparations were being made she slipped away.  Caleb and Lauren would take care of last minute details.  She removed her sword and sheath from her belt and sat by a stream.  Looking down the valley she took a moment to appreciate the calm.  As soon as the sun cleared the mountain pass the battle would begin.  Lives would be lost today.  One of them could be hers.  She wanted to give into fear, but she was the one everyone would be looking to for strength.  She allowed herself the luxury of worrying for a few minutes.  What if we fail?  What if I die?  What if I fail my people?  What if I'm too scared?  A bird called in a high sinning voice from a nearby tree.  She took a deep breath of the cold winter air.  She watched the sun creep over the horizon and savored the last few minutes of peace before the storm. 

 Ren was long gone.  It had been years since he'd been called to the sea.  He had no choice.  As his father before him he became the heart and soul of the sea.  His spirit dissolved into the waves and he ruled the oceans as an invisible Lord.  Yet even with all his great power, he could not buy one more minute of time by his young bride's side.  He hadn't meant to fall in love.  He knew it would only end in heartache for both of them.  But when he explained his prewritten destiny to Marline, she said she'd rather enjoy the few years that they had together.  So they married, and when Ren was called to fulfill his duty, Marline became the wife of the sea.  She'd go down to he shore and stand on the rocks.  She'd listen to the crash of the waves and imagine she heard Ren's voice.  He still took care of her.  She was never in want of fresh food from the sea, and whenever she traveled out in her small boat the waves calmed before the bow and the current pushed her on without aid.  Marline was only melancholy when she was called away from the coast.  As long as she could smell the salt spray and feel the sea wind, she felt like Ren was right beside her with his arm around her shoulders.



She was one of the pack.  At night her black hair mingled with the many shades of gray, white, and black fur as they all lay close together for warmth.  She ran with them during the day.  The snow and the cold didn't bother her at all.  Her feet were bare, but she felt nothing.  She knew every pack member by name.  They accepted her just as she accepted them.  They were a family. 



          Every now and then if I find a picture that really speaks to me I'll post it here with my thoughts on the story behind it.