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Born in Youngstown, Ohio in the fifties and raised in a typical suburban neighborhood, just loaded with other kids, we used our imagination to entertain us rather than using external media to supply an imagination. In any given day we might all be astronauts in a cardboard spaceship, or in the army protecting each other in imaginary battles, or secret agents or great baseball players. That imagination fueled a sense of awe of the world around us, it created a sense of loyalty between us as we managed to escape harrowing scenarios, capture ruthless despots or save a damsel in distress. (Usually one of our many sisters) We all did this in an imaginary world, yet to us that world was real, complete with castles, imaginary foxholes or the secret agent’s gadget laboratory, good training for writing good fiction.
Fortunately, after many years of toiling in the strict mind-numbing world of construction, I decided that it was time to reach back and grab that imagination that served me so well as a child. To again escape harrowing scenarios, or to capture vicious despots, maybe save a damsel or two. As a child, imagination was my most important asset. As a construction project manager the surveyor’s scope or a set of construction plans replaced imagination, sterile, rigid and cold items-not particularly useful in the world of the mind’s eye. Today, I have found that pen and paper are.