Lady Laura and I were talking once we had put the boys to bed last night about old times.
We're not big reminiscers, but when we do…
We go deep.
On this particular occasion, we stayed on the topic of visiting old places we grew up in, and how, for me personally, I've never really felt the desire to go back and walk old paths for "old time's" sake.
It's mainly because — and this might sound a little weird and crude — it is not too dissimilar to visiting a relative with dementia.
(Or me after a few nights of poor sleep.)
You could be standing outside the home you spent decades of your life in, only for the windows to stare at you, unblinking, like, "Who the hell are you?"
It's in equal parts sad and depressing, but it's also just the fact of life.
Objects, structures, and other materials are unfeeling compared to the memories we might have of them.
I'd much rather listen to an old song or play an old movie/video game if I want to be transported back to a certain time/place/feeling.
Similarly, whenever I get comments from readers talking about a character they liked or a moment they enjoyed in the story, it pulls me right back to the days I'd toiled to get them onto the page.
More than that:
I get to stand there, shoulder to shoulder with the reader, and re-experience those moments for myself.
It's one helluva feeling, let me tell you, Legionnaire.
It's what keeps my pale arse showing up every day to bring new stories and experiences to the world. Stories you can shop at my Storehouse here:
https://www.djjwatsonstore.com
DJJW