My world, good and bad

Writing, to me, is personal; not 'if you hate thework, you hate me' kind of personal, but I'm putting a lot of effort into it; my worlds, my characters, my emotions, my creations.

It's a kind of therapy for me, and I'm relatively good at it and, hopefully, getting better at writing. Goddess knows, it's creative enough, though lacking the finesse.

I'm constantly amazed at what comes out of my head - maybe everyone should write, in whatever genre they choose; it would, at the very least, make the world a more peaceful place for a while.

Today, I wrote a story via a generator that seemed quite inventive, entertaining and heart-felt. It wasn't until after I posted the story on the Forward Motion story-a-day-marathon site, (I'm not linking for obvious reasons; you wanna know? Go there.) that I realised what it was: a memory, a metaphor for that living past.

What I thought was hidden, isn't. And now it's out there for all to see.

On the relief side, most won't realise what kind of story it is; on the 'oh-shit-I've-said-too-much' side, the theme is in your face.

But I won't delete it, nor will I step back from it, though, for me, the emotional consequences are only now being felt.

What writers learn to do is to put themselves into their stories, whether it is painful or not. The story may be a first draft - they all are - but the fundamentals remain: that authors must put themselves into their work for it to be effective.

I may look at the story again, maybe to put on the new site I'm thinking of; or I might not. Authors are naked beings: what they feel, they are trying to convey to readers, to invoke similar emotions, but sometimes, it's really close to the bone.

What I do know, is that some twenty years later, the memory I thought I'd come to terms with, still lives, still bites, still hurts.

And what shakes me to the core, is wondering what else I haven't truly dealt with. What else is going to come out of my head? I'll never stop writing, that is an impossibility, but sometimes... Do I want to be so naked to the blogsphere?

No. I want to understand myself. I want to write. I don't want to be so exposed to the 'slings and arrows of outrageous contempt'. I don't necessarily require validation for my work; it would be nice, but it's not necessary.

What this has taught me is that I'm not alone. There are many authors who are putting themselves, emotionally, on the line. Most readers miss it, but the more astute... well, they see through the wonderful prose, the innovative ideas, the incredibly crafted characters and intricate plots to discern what is beyond.

I'm not naming names; like I said, writing, to me, is personal, and I'm not doing a dissertation on 'what the author really meant'. I already know; I've been there.