Fiction emerges as a more honest portrayal of the truth that lies within us.
Have you ever read a fantastic book that made you feel deeply? Like you'll never forget it...ever.
You were immersed in the characters and the story line.
Maybe you can still quote lines from it.
Perfectly recall and recreate scenes in your head from the book.
You keep it as a prized possession or an old friend by your side.
Why is that? Really good books are raw honesty that we connect to...easier...especially if it's fiction...no strings. They give us permission to invest ourselves on our terms. It's an intimate one-on-one discussion between us and the story.
Ever try to explain how good a book is to someone else? You can never do it justice. You're missing the connection that can only be created when you're alone with the book and soak it in for yourself.
Within the characters and stories, the words and moods, lie the authors' deepest darkest selves, which are safely stored in a fictional world. When they are writing it, it is essentially them on paper.
This translates into something beautiful and unforgettable in our lives. A connection we can't mimic in real life.
I have an issue: I don't mind people reading my blog...obviously. It's a whole chunk of me out there in the open. But I never let people read my fiction. Why? Because I write fiction without abandon. I don't worry whether I'll be judged. I love this type of writing, but not something I share so easily.
I've been writing fiction longer than blogging. I'm working on a fictional book currently, looking forward to focusing on it next year when my youngest goes to school- I'll have 5 consecutive minutes without interruption.
Blogs are great too. Don't get me wrong. Non fiction. I began blogging to get honest about life. Honesty resonates with people, but there's a big piece of me missing in my blog...
I can only put so much of me on a platter before I serve myself a swift kick in the ass and something I blog about will someday bite me in the butt or gasp...aspects of my life are not relatable.
The difference in writing fiction and blogging is that more of my true self emerges within fiction than right here, on my honest blog.
You're allowed to hate a character without social guilt. You can relate even though the character isn't you.
Likewise, since its fiction you're less likely to take it personally. You'll probably even relate better to a character I create than to me.
Seraphim is a character in my young adult book.
Passionate about research, I'm exploring ideas of evolution gone wrong. A girl discovering new strengths while others are burdened with increasing weaknesses. I know this well. In essence, the whole Dystopian society is a struggle within myself. Something I never share with people. Not even those closest to me.
If I were to discuss my illness it would bore you to tears, but if I created a character struggling with strength in a world of vast differences between dominance and deficiencies, you might listen.
Every day I grieve a part of my self- the curse of a chronic illness. Suddenly getting
Rheumatoid Arthritis halted my love of lifting weights, working out, testing my body's limits. Gone. Replaced by joints that feel 80 years old.
At one point a counselor suggested I was still pushing my limits but in a different way. Yeah that made me feel better for almost 24 hours.
I desperately wanted to retrieve my old sense of self so I decided to go lift 2lb weights (I used to curl 40 easily), but the 2lbs. felt like someone was extracting the bones from my hands. Another let down.
People say I'm strong because of what I endure to seem normal. It doesn't feel like strength.
I want my potency and kick-ass back. I was the hero of my story and now through my imagination, I must write a new hero.
The hero in my story isn't one who pats herself on the back for getting out of bed and making the most of life.
Walking into the gym 7 years ago meant training to be stronger each session, saying to myself if the world suddenly got all fucked up tomorrow, I'd be the bad ass survivor. Of course I'd help a shit load of other people survive in the process, but I'm the main bad ass!
Seraphim is a part of me that I miss.
Part Two of the "Truth" posts series: Truth: People Would Rather Reveal Secrets to a Stranger or Bartender (coming soon)
Part 3: Truth: One Week Can Turn Anyone Into a Monster
I'm passionate about no-nonsense self-improvement. Too many of us are plagued by faulty thought patterns- I aim to change that!