The Modern Prometheus modern design twist on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein | Page 6

Author’s Introduction to the
Standard Novels
Edition (1831)

It is not singular that, as the daughter of two persons of
distinguished literary celebrity, I should very early in life
have thought of writing. As a child I scribbled; and my
favourite pastime, during the hours given me for recreation, was to “write stories.” Still I had a dearer pleasure
than this, which was the formation of castles in the air—
the indulging in waking dreams—the following up trains
of thought, which had for their subject the formation of
a succession of imaginary incidents. My dreams were at
once more fantastic and agreeable than my writings. In
the latter I was a close imitator—rather doing as others
had done, than putting down the suggestions of my own
mind. What I wrote was intended at least for one other eye—my childhood’s companion and friend; but my
dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed—my dearest
pleasure when free.