Recently I have got into Lego. Technically I have got into Lego again. I am an adult, so they tell me, therefore playing with Lego might mean something. You can call it a coping mechanism, or a midlife crises if you wish but really I think it is just harmless fun. And I am discovering that Lego is certainly not just for children anymore.
There are now sets aimed directly at adults – so be sure to duck.
I bought a set called The Bookshop. While the set looks lovely I feel it is lacking in some areas so I am going to modify it… or rather adjust it.
Saying ‘modify’ implies that I know what I am doing. I do not. So ‘adjust’ is the word I am going to go with. And this is where the crazy sets in.
I looked at the set and started to think about what I wanted to change. I can go online, money notwithstanding, and get any parts I want. But what if I saw things from the point of view of the Lego people.
Bear with me…
When writing a story it is important to have verisimilitude. That is to say believability. If your character owns a Bookshop what resources would they have? Could they afford to build an extension on their business for example?
This thought occurred to me as I was looking at the finished set. In some ways it was more interesting to me than simply making any adjustments I could imagine.
Although I did eventually demolish the whole thing!
I wonder at what age we loose our confidence in creativity.
A child will look at a pile of Lego and put them together at random. Why can’t the pirates find gold in a moon buggy? Why can’t a Bookshop deliver via helicopter? More than that though they will be much less likely to feel that what they have built is ‘wrong’.
So far I have put Hermione Granger and Harry Potter in Central Perk – and a Battle Droid is singing to them – so I am part of the way there!
I just wanted to say that I have checked this post. I really have. Unfortunately my particular combination of dyslexia and dyspraxia makes it really hard for me to spot typos. Please enjoy and I’ll try not to make too many errors.