Writing Myself In

      Hi guys,

      Well, it’s getting near to that re-lease date (see what I did there?), and The Ways In will be yours to swallow, spat back out, and swallow again – I liked Anaconda, and I will die on this hill. But speaking of which, here’s, well, a few things…

      I ran into some “advice” on twitter that reeked of “this is my view” – and stand by there being too much of the person vested in it, while admitting I did not respond in the best manner. Okay, I was a prick. But at the start of the advice was “Don’t write in your own wounds,” and the core was, “Wounds are non-fiction.” Never mind you might write about rape, domestic abuse, torture, etc.

      So where do I stand, writing an autobiographical character in a fictional story, using my own memories, experiences, and putting the character through things I went through? Well, I felt personally attacked – one of the joys of poor boundaries and inability to differentiate.

      Handling criticism isn’t my strong point. It goes with the territory of dealing with unnecessary criticism and put-downs from school peers, parents. Oh joy. But with so much of me on display, I’m not just up against normal deriding, any flow issues (I think my timing is out), but personal deriding. If Cole Brodas cops flack, that’s me copping flack.

      I haven’t filtered myself for Cole. In fact, as things have changed for my life, I look back and feel the drudge of, “Oh, he’s undiagnosed bipolar,” “Oh, he should be in recovery,” “That scene shows unhealthy boundaries.” It scares the crap out of me. Have I crossed a line? Am I doing worse than I pictured I would be doing at the beginning? How big is this problem?

      I suppose that’s my risk, thanks to my sister asking, “Why don’t you write a story about yourself?” at 19, and picking up the gauntlet a decade later. It’s what a writer does with a book, send the baby out into the world to live, fall in love, go to their wedding, and have a bunch of soldiers come in to chop it and the guests to pieces – wait, that was Game of Thrones. The Red Penning?

      But when this idea popped into my head, it made me laugh. I’m writing a zero-deaths romance after putting about twenty people to the sword? That’s a warm, buzzy memory, an urge to hit that publish button (for reals now, sorry about the mix-up before). Maybe that’s the only reminder I need to accept the risk and whack the world with TWI.

      As for you, should you play keep yourself away from your books? Maintain the wall between you and the story? Write your wounds in memoirs only? You do what you believe is best.

      But I will say to those with mental illness, those recovering, those who’ve been through a lot, and art is your therapy, put yourself in – in a safe way, of course, you don’t need all the details.

      And for all, why not do the Clive Cussler (LOVE YOUR WORK!) and put a caricature of yourself with a donkey sidekick in your books as a comic relief McGuffin.

     

      Yay, I made it a positive finish. Phew! As almost always, have a good one!

      T. M.