'The imaginative literary mind is as boundless as it is borderless and bountiful in its way, finding ways of powerfully creating anew the already imagined with the unimagined or unimaginable. Possibly George Orwell had thought something like this when he explained that the imagination was like certain wild animals that do not breed in captivity, and that writers who denied this fact were in effect demanding their own destruction.1 The dreamlike state of imagining is continuously curious while it shifts and reshapes its positioning and influences. But imagination is never alone. There is a fight going on all day long in the mind of the writer about how to counterbalance the fanciful world of the imagination.' (Introduction)