Writing what I don't want to write. But what I also DO want to write. It's all a matter of being honest, even if it's uncomfortable. Of doing what I set out to do when I write about serious matters--trying to understand.
I confess now, that this (Sunlight) may be the hardest story I've ever tried to write, and maybe even the hardest story I ever will write. It deals directly with things, I admit, that I fear. As incredibly terrible as it is, it's been siginificantly easier to write about other serious topics--abuse, murder, drug use, unexpected/unplanned pregnancy, self-injury, loss of friends, running away, even suicide, all of which have made frequent appearances in my older stories and roleplays and other main original characters of mine. I guess I never really tried to go into detail--no matter how much research I did, no matter how many real-life stories I heard or read, no matter how many realistic fiction books I read, no matter how many details I received that could have created a background or a scene or a significant part of a character's life that rang true and real, I never actually did it.
I fear the things that happen in Damir and his family's life. I feel like a terrible person for it, but I do. And I fear the loss of my parents. I fear the loss of my close friends, through death or through the disintegration of a relationship, or even immense physical distance, to an extent. I fear losing this horribly priveleged place in society--the place of health, of my capability to do virtually anything with this young body I don't treat well enough. I would begin to speak in generalization, but it might be wrong. And if I'm going to paint myself honestly, I will. I am a coward. I am a prejudiced beast. I am not who I want to be, not who I wish I was, this person who genuinely cares and understands and who tries ever-so-hard to do what is right for people. I think about it and I write about it, and I try about it, and I even pray about it, but I don't DO enough. I am not active enough.
And I guess there's a part of me that fears losing my family in the same way that Damir does. Or losing my friends in such a way as he loses his. I don't wish for the changes and pain and strain and isolation that they endure. And my infinite lack of understanding causes me to write the story in such a way that it is unrealistic. He should care for his family, his parents, his friends, no matter what happens, give his entire life for them, because that is what he does as a human being who loves them. There's so much sacrifice involved, and I am not taking the time to convey that so far--moreso, I'm putting him out to be this person who is just so utterly self-centered. Who is seeking this girl to be the one who makes his life "so much better"--so much brighter. Who somehow convinces himself to take the time to spend time with her.
It makes sense, in a way, in the beginning at least. But as health starts to fail further, or even improve, from what I've found, you don't abandon family that way. The story needs to show the sacrifice, and it needs to show the frustrations, and the isolation, and the closeness. I wanted the Paxes to have their struggles even before the accident. But even so, I know, and they know, that even in spite of their previously dysfunctional nature, they still love each other.
Love is so absent from the story so far. There is so much abandonment. Damir shouldn't even just be OBSESSED with Amira--if he truly loves her, he is so grateful for her return. The bitterness he feels, it's there. But perhaps it wouldn't be so obvious yet. If he loves her, he also wants her to be making her own decisions. But he as a person, a person who is so dependent on her for his own happiness, which I personally feel may be harmful, may understandably feel that pain, that bitterness, assigned to what he considers her abandonment.
If he loved his family, he would never leave his father's side. Having the issues that the family had before, with them constantly moving for work, with his parents constantly involved socially and professionally with other people for extended periods of time, and with the emotional and mental issues which they worked so hard to keep private, that distance, it broke them further when the accident happened. But they had to come together. I'm realizing, it's not Amira who understands Damir the most--it's his parents. And he understands them the most, even if their physical limitations are further than his. They are a family.
And yet, they are seperated by death. Damir's father's relationship with his mother is supposed to reflect Amira and Damir's--so close and dependent is he upon her, that the loss of her creates such deep anguish that it diminishes his desire to improve himself, truly to continue life.
Trying to understand death, and coping with death, and the knowledge of one's terminal condition, and that of a loved one's... is something that I never wished to attempt to understand. But now, I do. I have to.
I often write for the people like myself--essentially, for myself, and readers like myself. People with little to no experience with the issues that I will write with, and yet, that is sort of missing the point. I always wrote, before, so I could understand, so I could help people as a counseling/clinical psychologist and a friend and a fellow human being. But the honest truth is, and this is so blatantly clear and obvious and idiotic that I never thought of this, in such a way, before--people DO have these experiences. I approached real people's experiences as their experiences. And their experiences helped me understand their experiences so I could convey them fictionally, but accurately.
But I, a pathetic poser of a person desiring to be an author, did not have the foresight to think of the fact that people with real life experience may read these stories. And it is they that I should be thinking of as I write. I do, and I have, previously, but only on a matter of accuracy. Accuracy, but not honesty. Accuracy, but not plain truth. Accuracy, but not emotional relation. I want, somewhat, as a writer, to create an emotional connection to my readers, I have experienced, with the serious stories which I have read. I want some resonance. I want some things to be memorable, because they caused someone to think of a situation differently. Or because I got them to think of something, consider something, see something from a different perspective. As I have had these experiences with read the stories that I have.
But there are people who write these stories better than I ever will. Because they write their own story. Because they have the experience to do so--and their story will forever be truer than any story created that I will create. Your story, reader, your story, is truer than the fiction I attempt to craft, and likely fail at doing.
There is a weight, to writing this story. A great and terrible weight of my fear, and the truth that must be conveyed. I cannot keep my characters out of the situations that I do not want to be in, in the circumstances in which none of us as humans can control. That may have been why the previous stories were easier to write--their is a tiny sliver of choice involved in certain actions of my characters. They still do not control the circumstances which occur in their lives, but they do choose how they deal with them. They run. They hurt others. They hurt themselves. They throw themselves into relationships because they think it will help. And the problems in their lives, to an extent, is their responsibility.
There is much of that in Sunlight, of course. Much responsibility. A lot of responses which Damir, Amira, and his family choose. However, their circumstances have little to do with their choices. They happen. Damir's parents generally do not choose the circumstances that they grow up in, though his father does choose his original career. But they do not choose to develop the anxiety disorder that they do. Damir and his parents do not CHOOSE to get into the accident that they do. It just happens, and it is entirely out of their control. They have no control over the physical effects that it has on them. Damir has no control over the that they do. Damir and his parents do not CHOOSE to get into the accident that they do. It just happens, and it is entirely out of their control. They have no control over the physical effects that it has on them. Damir has no control over the fact that he develops the same disorder as his parents due to these traumatic experiences. There is little control over their lives.
Or even their deaths.
Perhaps the loss of control is what I fear the most. I've had many fears in my past that I've tried to face in writing, even a morbid desire I've attempted to fulfill in writing, during a time of my life when I felt I was most emotionally unstable. But that time, when the shots just keep on firing, when those terrible situations just keep on piling on with no ability to stop them, with undeveloped coping skills, and then the permanent earthly loss of some of the most important people of my life... perhaps this is what I fear the most.
I do not want to imagine these things happening to myself or my family. And as I researched tonight, something broke, finally, something made me force myself to be honest, and to write this. I am a flawed and cowardly human being. I love my family, and I love my friends, and I love my God. I deal with all these demons I don't have in writing. But I've always wrongly written for myself and myself alone--even if the understanding I wanted to achieve was to help others. For once, I finally understand how incredibly important, how gravely sacred, it is, to be true and honest and sensitive in my writing.
I confess now, that this (Sunlight) may be the hardest story I've ever tried to write, and maybe even the hardest story I ever will write. It deals directly with things, I admit, that I fear. As incredibly terrible as it is, it's been siginificantly easier to write about other serious topics--abuse, murder, drug use, unexpected/unplanned pregnancy, self-injury, loss of friends, running away, even suicide, all of which have made frequent appearances in my older stories and roleplays and other main original characters of mine. I guess I never really tried to go into detail--no matter how much research I did, no matter how many real-life stories I heard or read, no matter how many realistic fiction books I read, no matter how many details I received that could have created a background or a scene or a significant part of a character's life that rang true and real, I never actually did it.
I fear the things that happen in Damir and his family's life. I feel like a terrible person for it, but I do. And I fear the loss of my parents. I fear the loss of my close friends, through death or through the disintegration of a relationship, or even immense physical distance, to an extent. I fear losing this horribly priveleged place in society--the place of health, of my capability to do virtually anything with this young body I don't treat well enough. I would begin to speak in generalization, but it might be wrong. And if I'm going to paint myself honestly, I will. I am a coward. I am a prejudiced beast. I am not who I want to be, not who I wish I was, this person who genuinely cares and understands and who tries ever-so-hard to do what is right for people. I think about it and I write about it, and I try about it, and I even pray about it, but I don't DO enough. I am not active enough.
And I guess there's a part of me that fears losing my family in the same way that Damir does. Or losing my friends in such a way as he loses his. I don't wish for the changes and pain and strain and isolation that they endure. And my infinite lack of understanding causes me to write the story in such a way that it is unrealistic. He should care for his family, his parents, his friends, no matter what happens, give his entire life for them, because that is what he does as a human being who loves them. There's so much sacrifice involved, and I am not taking the time to convey that so far--moreso, I'm putting him out to be this person who is just so utterly self-centered. Who is seeking this girl to be the one who makes his life "so much better"--so much brighter. Who somehow convinces himself to take the time to spend time with her.
It makes sense, in a way, in the beginning at least. But as health starts to fail further, or even improve, from what I've found, you don't abandon family that way. The story needs to show the sacrifice, and it needs to show the frustrations, and the isolation, and the closeness. I wanted the Paxes to have their struggles even before the accident. But even so, I know, and they know, that even in spite of their previously dysfunctional nature, they still love each other.
Love is so absent from the story so far. There is so much abandonment. Damir shouldn't even just be OBSESSED with Amira--if he truly loves her, he is so grateful for her return. The bitterness he feels, it's there. But perhaps it wouldn't be so obvious yet. If he loves her, he also wants her to be making her own decisions. But he as a person, a person who is so dependent on her for his own happiness, which I personally feel may be harmful, may understandably feel that pain, that bitterness, assigned to what he considers her abandonment.
If he loved his family, he would never leave his father's side. Having the issues that the family had before, with them constantly moving for work, with his parents constantly involved socially and professionally with other people for extended periods of time, and with the emotional and mental issues which they worked so hard to keep private, that distance, it broke them further when the accident happened. But they had to come together. I'm realizing, it's not Amira who understands Damir the most--it's his parents. And he understands them the most, even if their physical limitations are further than his. They are a family.
And yet, they are seperated by death. Damir's father's relationship with his mother is supposed to reflect Amira and Damir's--so close and dependent is he upon her, that the loss of her creates such deep anguish that it diminishes his desire to improve himself, truly to continue life.
Trying to understand death, and coping with death, and the knowledge of one's terminal condition, and that of a loved one's... is something that I never wished to attempt to understand. But now, I do. I have to.
I often write for the people like myself--essentially, for myself, and readers like myself. People with little to no experience with the issues that I will write with, and yet, that is sort of missing the point. I always wrote, before, so I could understand, so I could help people as a counseling/clinical psychologist and a friend and a fellow human being. But the honest truth is, and this is so blatantly clear and obvious and idiotic that I never thought of this, in such a way, before--people DO have these experiences. I approached real people's experiences as their experiences. And their experiences helped me understand their experiences so I could convey them fictionally, but accurately.
But I, a pathetic poser of a person desiring to be an author, did not have the foresight to think of the fact that people with real life experience may read these stories. And it is they that I should be thinking of as I write. I do, and I have, previously, but only on a matter of accuracy. Accuracy, but not honesty. Accuracy, but not plain truth. Accuracy, but not emotional relation. I want, somewhat, as a writer, to create an emotional connection to my readers, I have experienced, with the serious stories which I have read. I want some resonance. I want some things to be memorable, because they caused someone to think of a situation differently. Or because I got them to think of something, consider something, see something from a different perspective. As I have had these experiences with read the stories that I have.
But there are people who write these stories better than I ever will. Because they write their own story. Because they have the experience to do so--and their story will forever be truer than any story created that I will create. Your story, reader, your story, is truer than the fiction I attempt to craft, and likely fail at doing.
There is a weight, to writing this story. A great and terrible weight of my fear, and the truth that must be conveyed. I cannot keep my characters out of the situations that I do not want to be in, in the circumstances in which none of us as humans can control. That may have been why the previous stories were easier to write--their is a tiny sliver of choice involved in certain actions of my characters. They still do not control the circumstances which occur in their lives, but they do choose how they deal with them. They run. They hurt others. They hurt themselves. They throw themselves into relationships because they think it will help. And the problems in their lives, to an extent, is their responsibility.
There is much of that in Sunlight, of course. Much responsibility. A lot of responses which Damir, Amira, and his family choose. However, their circumstances have little to do with their choices. They happen. Damir's parents generally do not choose the circumstances that they grow up in, though his father does choose his original career. But they do not choose to develop the anxiety disorder that they do. Damir and his parents do not CHOOSE to get into the accident that they do. It just happens, and it is entirely out of their control. They have no control over the physical effects that it has on them. Damir has no control over the that they do. Damir and his parents do not CHOOSE to get into the accident that they do. It just happens, and it is entirely out of their control. They have no control over the physical effects that it has on them. Damir has no control over the fact that he develops the same disorder as his parents due to these traumatic experiences. There is little control over their lives.
Or even their deaths.
Perhaps the loss of control is what I fear the most. I've had many fears in my past that I've tried to face in writing, even a morbid desire I've attempted to fulfill in writing, during a time of my life when I felt I was most emotionally unstable. But that time, when the shots just keep on firing, when those terrible situations just keep on piling on with no ability to stop them, with undeveloped coping skills, and then the permanent earthly loss of some of the most important people of my life... perhaps this is what I fear the most.
I do not want to imagine these things happening to myself or my family. And as I researched tonight, something broke, finally, something made me force myself to be honest, and to write this. I am a flawed and cowardly human being. I love my family, and I love my friends, and I love my God. I deal with all these demons I don't have in writing. But I've always wrongly written for myself and myself alone--even if the understanding I wanted to achieve was to help others. For once, I finally understand how incredibly important, how gravely sacred, it is, to be true and honest and sensitive in my writing.
No comments:
Post a Comment