I’m a daydreamer. I often retreat into my own stories, crafting worlds and creating new narratives. It’s one of my favourite things—like having a brand-new movie on demand, only one that plays out entirely in my head.
It’s probably why I write. Some of these stories seem interesting, at least to me, and I hope that by sharing them I can pass along even a fraction of the joy they bring me.
Sometimes the ideas arrive fully formed and feel unique, as if they’ve come from nowhere at all. My mind latches onto them and starts filling out their reality with details and characters.
Other times they’re sparked by games. I’ve always been drawn to open-world sandboxes where you start as a blank slate—no obligations, no backstory, just freedom to define who you are within that world. That sense of possibility is intoxicating, and it often bleeds into the stories I write.
Books inspire me too. When I’m reading, I sometimes put the story down and imagine what else could happen. I’ve written before about my favourite characters, and occasionally I rewrite their fates—saving them, adding someone new to balance the group, or better yet, disrupting it completely.
Films do the same. I’ll drift off and change the ending in my head. Some films invite this more than others—I’ll let you decide which.
Imagination is a powerful, wonderful thing. I’m not suggesting anyone should live there all the time. Reality is tough, but it’s also necessary—and honestly, there’s no finer source of inspiration than the world around us. The trick, I think, is learning to carry that spark of daydreaming into the everyday, where it can make both fiction and life feel a little richer.