Returning Home

Have you ever gone back to a house you used to live in? It’s a strange experience. The furniture’s all different. Maybe the walls have been painted. The pictures on the walls aren’t the same. Maybe some renovations have been done to significantly change the insides. No matter what, the house just doesn’t look right.

It doesn’t look right because you’re comparing the house now to the house then, when you lived in it.

Pictured above is a house I lived in when I was between the ages of about four to eight. When I was writing my upcoming novel Box of Shocks, it was this house I re-imagined for the setting. Of course, the beauty of creative writing is that you have free license to twist, reshape, chop, glue on, and generally refabricate reality. It's like cosmetic surgery for your memory.

But even if I wanted to accurately represent this old house in my novel, I couldn’t– my memories of this house are like a patchwork quilt with a bunch of missing panels. I have vivid memories of parts of the house and events that took place. But I’m quite willing to admit, there are huge gaps in my memory for many details. To fill the gaps, that’s where the imagination comes in very handy.

It’s been said that History is part fiction, and Fiction is part history. In the case of this house and my new novel Box of Shocks, never was this statement more true.

Playing the Dictionary Game

So, here I am, flipping open the dictionary, closing my eyes, and BANG! I point to a word. And that word is . . . stunt, as in stuntman. Switch on the imagination, and let the words flow. Here's what I've come up with . . .

Stefano had a dream. That dream was to become a stuntman. One day, his big chance arrived. A movie was being filmed in town, and there was a call out for people who were interested in taking that first step into a career in the movies.

Stefano waited up all night outside the door of the movie director’s office, desperate to get a part in the movie. As he waited through the night, he dreamed of driving a Porsche at high speed through town, swerving around invading zombies while dodging machine gun fire. Or maybe they’d ask him to wrestle an alligator that had escaped from a zoo and was terrorizing the town. Could it be he’d be shot from a cannon, flying through the air and landing right on top of an escaping bank robber? The possibilities of Stefano’s role in the movie were endless, and he was ready for anything.

Finally, at eight in the morning, the door to the office swung open, and a scruffy looking man in a sweat suit covered in coffee and ketchup stains looked out at Stefano.

“Yeah? What do you want?” the man said.

“I’m here for a part in the movie!” Stefano shouted, jumping to attention to show his eagerness. “I can do anything! I’m not afraid of fire, loud noises, man-eating animals, or going really fast in a car! I don’t even mind jumping from trains or being shot from a cannon!”

“Have you done any of that stuff?” the man said, looking quizzically at Stefano as he rubbed the stubble on his chin.

“Well . . . not exactly,” Stefano replied. “I mean, I have ridden my bike really fast, and I’ve jumped from an awful lot of swings in my recess career. I figure those experiences have really prepared me for a career as a stuntman.”

“Is that so?” the man replied. “Well, the role we’re looking to fill in our movie isn’t exactly that dangerous, I’m afraid.”

“That’s okay,” Stefano said. “I’ve got to start somewhere!”

“Okay,” the man said. “If you’re keen, the job is yours. Come on in. We start filming in an hour.”

Stefano spent the rest of the day on the set of the movie dressed up as a giant ice cream cone. The movie’s director gave Stefano only two instructions– “Just stand there! Don’t move!”

Stefano’s first job as a movie stuntman wasn’t exactly thrilling. Even worse, Stefano was allergic to the giant ice cream cone costume. When he took it off at the end of the day, he was covered in strange purple dots.

But even worse, the director decided to cut the scene with the giant ice cream cone from the movie. The whole experience was one great big disappointment for Stefano. As a result, he decided not to become a stuntman.

“I want something with more danger!” he declared. “Something where I’m risking my life!”

So if any of you hear of someone looking for a lion tamer, please give Stefano a call. He’s busy in his backyard practicing with his tabby cat named Snickers.