"The freedom of boredom...fosters creativity" -- Mollie Cox Bryan
I can honestly say I have never been bored for longer than fifteen minutes in my entire life. From the time I was a wee thing, I was curious about the world as I knew it, that is, in about a three-foot-wide circle I could reach by crawling. Grass and pebbles outside, table legs and my grandmother's shoes inside. Everything was fascinating.
As I grew older, I stopped putting everything in my mouth and began listening to people's voices, to music, to birdsong. I could sit quietly for hours listening to my grandmother or mother read to me. I eavesdropped on grownups' conversation without understanding much of it.
I learned to talk. I learned I could have my own opinions, although wanting a snack before dinner wasn't an encouraged opinion. I grew up strong-willed, stubborn, obstinate even. I met my first imaginary friend who didn't mind my strong opinions. She loved me for who I was; I loved her because she was fun to play with. No, she didn't exist but that didn't matter. She did in my head.
Those traits help now that I'm a full-time writer. I still have imaginary friends, many of whom live much more interesting lives than I do. I have voices in my head telling me stories, some of which I write in my books. I can still sit and play with these imaginary friends for hours on end, fingers flying over the keyboard, making the stories come to life on the page.
Boredom? Not in my vocabulary. Not in my life.