The geography of our own interior is a vast range that lends itself to infinite psychic wanderings. It is a wilderness of the imagination. Everything that we have ever seen, heard, tasted, touched, and felt makes its home in an invisible reservoir called memory. These experiences — all that we have done, all that has been enacted upon us — become the active ingredients in the cauldron that is the imagination.
— Cathleen Rountree, The Writer's Mentor