One can learn a lot by
reading advise from other people. But it always remains just that: advise from
other people. To become a
serious writer, we have to know our own minds and learn to listen to what we
know to be true, for us, regardless of what anyone else might think or say.
No one else can tell you what
you need to know when it comes to emotion. No one else can chart the terrain of
your subconscious, your belief systems, or your dreams: the beautiful and
totally unique irrationality that belongs only to you.
This is the
stuff that comes out in the writing of great fiction. The character who is
deeply unlikable. The plot that doesn’t seem to make any sense. The ending that
doesn’t wrap up all the loose threads.
The first page that holds out a
quiet but expectant hand, inviting in the curious reader softly, slowly, as so
many works of brilliant fiction have done throughout the decades—without relying
on Reality TV promo tactics to hustle in spectators who really couldn’t give a
*BLEEP*.
This is what writing great
fiction is actually like: It’s hard and confusing and there is no map. There is
no method that will help you circumnavigate all the dark, festering places in
your psyche that you don’t want to see. You won’t come out on the other side
with all the answers, or even with any answers at all.
But the journey into the
underworld is worth it. It’s always worth it. That’s why writers keep doing it.
Because, deep in the most secret parts of our heart, we know we can do nothing
else.
by Lauren Sapala. Lauren is a writing coach who specializes in personal growth and artistic development for introverted intuitive writers. http://www.laurensapala.com/
