Writers observe worlds of infinite possibility and distill it into the World that Happened. I want to see those possibilities and express them. That’s why I write.
Kyle Rayner, Green Lantern, Torch Bearer, once said:
I used to joke, if I couldn’t draw, I would go insane. Not so much of a joke now.
Then he lost his power ring, as is traditional in comics and, yada yada… standard amazing comic book plot occurred.
The point here is I view writing as an essential part of my world. I don’t necessarily feel a compulsion to write an infinite amount of stories, like Stephen King, but it is necessary.
Alternate worlds and possible outcomes. The idea of knowing exactly what happened and why. These are the ideas that fascinate me.
It’s not the general plot or the resolution. That secondary. And a good part of the reason spoilers don’t bother me. I want to know what happens if I change the smallest detail.
Do I refer to someone as having a “hand” or a “paw”? Does a blind man turn his head even if he can’t see because he can hear? Creating a perfect image of my imagination for the reader. Not leading them step by step, or just telling them, but showing them.
Still, it’s more than that. I think of it like the “Many-World Interpretation” of quantum mechanics. For every event, there are infinite possible outcomes. Of course, in our world, we can only see one possible outcome; the one that occurs when we observe. The possibilities and probabilities collapse into one, what we’ve observed.
In the case of fiction, it’s the one I write. When a story is a nebulous concept, without definitive “who” or “why” or “what” attached, it hasn’t been properly observed. I write to find the one singular world that exists as I collapse all the infinite possibilities.