My travel to the Amazon

Where does creativity come from?

That was one of the many questions running through my mind. Funny. I keep thinking about it after so many finished works. Creativity shouldn’t be a problem… but now, it is.

I’m a writer, and this…

This is the story of how I ended up in my own world.

***

It was Friday. A day that should bring peace and harmony. A time when the complications of work would lift off my shoulders, and I could finally relax at home a bit, reading or gaming.

The problem? I was supposed to deliver a new chapter of my story to my editor.

He wasn’t expecting much. Two… maybe three thousand words would be enough. But nothing was coming out of my mind. I had been trying for days, over and over, but the creative block crushed my hope of going home and having a normal weekend… something I hadn’t had in a long time.

It all started a few months ago. At first, I just took longer to write my chapters. It felt like the story wasn’t heading toward a satisfying plot. Little by little… it all got worse.

I had the whole week to write this damn chapter. And still, here I am: lying down over my desk, arms crossed, bored, almost as if I were back in school.

— When did it all start?

— Hm… to think I once prided myself because I could write like… five chapters a day? I must be getting old...

*The phone starts ringing.*

“…”

*Keeps ringing.*

— Ah… being an adult. So much fun…

I knew who it was, but honestly, I just didn’t feel like answering. Unfortunately for me, I had already let the call go to voicemail more than four times today.

— Yes…?

— ERICK! Where have you been? Why didn’t you pick up your phone earlier? Did you finish the chapter? The publication was supposed to be out by the end of the day! — said a voice on the other end. It was my editor.

I just took a deep breath, bit my lip in frustration, and decided to answer.

— I…

— Look, I know you have your own pace to do things, but we need this NOW. The others have already sent me their material. The worldbuilding they’re doing is really interesting. If you can’t finish a chapter, how are you going to keep up with what they’re doing for the next arc? — he continued, not pausing.

— Mr. Robert… I’m going on vacation — I said, hanging up the phone right after.

I sat down, staring at the ceiling.

— Huh... vacation, right? — I thought quietly.

— Ok… and what am I supposed to do now?

***

That late afternoon didn’t have much going on, except for the endless calls from my editor. I had no energy for anything. I had brain fog. I was lost. Tired.

When I was heading to the kitchen, I got another call.

The phone starts ringing again.

— Hey. What’s up, man?

— Hey, Erick. Mind if I drop by? — said Nikita on the other end.

Nikita was my best friend. We had always shared a common interest since early adulthood: we loved tabletop RPGs. From time to time, we’d meet up to play and theorize about the campaigns we were involved in.

In recent years, with my work and the responsibilities of adult life, our hangouts became less frequent. But I always knew I could count on him when things were… well, like they were now.

— Yes, come here around eight. We’ll order a pizza. I’ve got a lot to talk to you about.

— Right, I’m leaving work now, I’ll hit the gym, and then I’ll come by — he replied, hanging up the phone.

Nikita was quite a different friend. His physique stood out — he was much stronger than most people. He was training at the gym for about five years and had an enviable build, plus he practiced jiu-jitsu on weekends. Normally, I’d be intimidated being near someone like that, but when I met him, he was just like me.

Oh, right… I haven’t properly introduced myself yet. I’m Erick Fischer, 23 years old. Nothing special: a bit skinny for my height, brown hair, glasses… and, of course, a dream.

Some would say I’m crazy, but I live life my way. Creativity is my strength, and I’m here for my creations. Stories, tales, material — I’ve done a lot over the years and have always chased my dream: to create the greatest fantasy world in this world!

Well...

Usually, that’s what I’d say. But lately, I’ve felt like I’m just surviving between deadlines and personal frustrations. These days, I’ve been facing a creative block unlike any before.

My creativity has always come from personal inspirations. I’ve spent most of my life consuming the work of amazing artists and playing RPG with people who created completely crazy situations at the tables.

But those days feel farther and farther away…

I can’t remember the last time I sat down to watch a good movie or anime, read a manga, a novel, or even play with my old group. Work has become a monster in my life. It is my life. Something that started as a dream is now turning into a nightmare.

*Phone ringing again.*

— For real… again?

An unknown number appeared on the screen. Scams and prank calls are common in this kind of situation… but something about it caught my attention.

Last night, I had a dream. Many of the things I create and include in my stories come from dreams or moments of reflection. Sometimes, I feel as if I’m being inspired by a higher being during the night. Her voice is so… comforting…

But now, focus: I dreamed of a strange number last night.

Accept.

I barely thought. It was instinct. Would something happen if I clicked that button?

I brought the phone to my ear, only to reach an obvious conclusion: it was just another person.

— Good afternoon. Is this Mr. Erick Fischer? — said the voice on the other side.

Strange. It was already night, and the accent… Well, it was quite different.

— Yeah, that’s me.

— Great. It was a bit difficult to get your number. Sorry to bother you, but my name is Sabrina. I’m calling because I’m conducting a study in the Amazon Forest. I’m from Brazil — said the voice.

What? I frowned, not believing what I was hearing. It certainly must be a prank.

— Right…

— I know it might sound a bit strange, but I’m conducting research at an archaeological site, and, well… we found some stones that one of my students mentioned having read about in one of your stories. Normally, I’d think you’re just a curious person who used historic material like that for inspiration, but this is a newly discovered site — she continued.

Very strange. And suspicious. Something inside me still shouted that it was a scam, but another part wanted to know more.

— Well, we don’t have much budget for this, and I’m not exactly a superstitious person… but one of the indigenous guides who led us here mentioned your name. He said you need to come by and see this. I thought about sending images, videos… but I had a dream…

When she mentioned a dream, something inside me lit up. Like an alert.

— And I believe you’d like to see it with your own eyes. Are you able to come here? I can help you get here.

Silence.

What the hell was going on?

She had a dream? I had one too! But going into the middle of the biggest forest in the world wasn’t in my plans.

I stood up. I was ready to refuse when I looked at my notebook. My document was still blank. Flashbacks of my stories with friends passed through my mind. Moments when life had more… substance.

— Could I bring someone with me? — I asked.

— Of course! It’ll be a pleasure to have you here.

Inspiration!

I needed inspiration for my stories.

I threw my coat into the air, feeling almost like a superhero, and adjusted my glasses with the dramatic gesture of a visionary thinker. My decision was made.

***

*The doorbell rang.*

Nikita had just arrived, dressed and carrying his backpack after training — he didn’t even look like he’d just left the gym.

— Hey dude! Game night? — he said, grabbing my arm and ruffling my hair with a closed fist.

I laughed. It was good to have him around.

— For sure! But first… I want to tell you something important.

He raised an eyebrow, curious, as he walked in and dropped a crate of beer on the coffee table.

— You up for a trip to the Amazon with me?