Writing and personal trauma
Jun. 20th, 2020 03:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Sometimes, people write so they can consciously process their personal trauma.
Sometimes, people write a story and later realizes it reflects some fundamental truth about their lives.
Both of the previous two scenarios have happened to me. What was new today was struggling to write a story—for an entire year—and realizing I couldn't write it because what I was trying to write was a source of personal trauma.
Maybe this is something unique to contemporary fiction. I'm not used to writing contemporary fiction, and in the realm of speculative fiction, people can often process their personal experiences in a more metaphorical way. It can still be deeply personal, but usually in big-picture ways, not in terms of detailed events.
In my first novel, for example, I was trying to process my experiences being depressed and neurodivergent and trapped in a career path I didn't want by writing a sci-fi story about an assassin who was a victim of human experimentation. It was cathartic and not triggering to write that kind of story.
In my current novel, I've been trying to follow a publishing professional's advice and coming up with situations that force the two main characters to interact socially. I've been struggling for an entire year and feeling very frustrated and stressed at my inability to write such scenes...
...until today, I suddenly realized why I was struggling so much.
Because forced social interaction against one's wishes has been a source of personal trauma for me.
Every time I tried to write those forced conversations, I couldn't. The characters felt miserable and angry at being trapped in those situations, and I felt miserable writing them. It wasn't until today that I realized: I've been in situations in the past in which I was forced into a social situation I didn't want to be in, and those situations were deeply upsetting and traumatic for me.
So it's not very surprising, given that context, that I would struggle to write those kinds of scenes.
Instead, what I found most surprising was the fact that it took me an entire year to realize this. I feel a little bad, because if I'd realized this earlier, it probably would've saved me time and helped me decide on an alternative path.
I guess, somehow, because it's contemporary, I didn't realize it? Because I wasn't consciously drawing from my own real-life experiences; I was not trying to recreate conversations based on ones I'd had in real life and failing to realize the similarities to my past experiences. And, maybe, because I'd spent so long trying to block those negative memories from my consciousness that I wasn't even thinking about them.
So...what do I do now?
I guess I can stop trying to revise that way and just prepare alternative plans in case my failure to rewrite my story this way makes the story unappealing to traditional publishing.
Sometimes, people write a story and later realizes it reflects some fundamental truth about their lives.
Both of the previous two scenarios have happened to me. What was new today was struggling to write a story—for an entire year—and realizing I couldn't write it because what I was trying to write was a source of personal trauma.
Maybe this is something unique to contemporary fiction. I'm not used to writing contemporary fiction, and in the realm of speculative fiction, people can often process their personal experiences in a more metaphorical way. It can still be deeply personal, but usually in big-picture ways, not in terms of detailed events.
In my first novel, for example, I was trying to process my experiences being depressed and neurodivergent and trapped in a career path I didn't want by writing a sci-fi story about an assassin who was a victim of human experimentation. It was cathartic and not triggering to write that kind of story.
In my current novel, I've been trying to follow a publishing professional's advice and coming up with situations that force the two main characters to interact socially. I've been struggling for an entire year and feeling very frustrated and stressed at my inability to write such scenes...
...until today, I suddenly realized why I was struggling so much.
Because forced social interaction against one's wishes has been a source of personal trauma for me.
Every time I tried to write those forced conversations, I couldn't. The characters felt miserable and angry at being trapped in those situations, and I felt miserable writing them. It wasn't until today that I realized: I've been in situations in the past in which I was forced into a social situation I didn't want to be in, and those situations were deeply upsetting and traumatic for me.
So it's not very surprising, given that context, that I would struggle to write those kinds of scenes.
Instead, what I found most surprising was the fact that it took me an entire year to realize this. I feel a little bad, because if I'd realized this earlier, it probably would've saved me time and helped me decide on an alternative path.
I guess, somehow, because it's contemporary, I didn't realize it? Because I wasn't consciously drawing from my own real-life experiences; I was not trying to recreate conversations based on ones I'd had in real life and failing to realize the similarities to my past experiences. And, maybe, because I'd spent so long trying to block those negative memories from my consciousness that I wasn't even thinking about them.
So...what do I do now?
I guess I can stop trying to revise that way and just prepare alternative plans in case my failure to rewrite my story this way makes the story unappealing to traditional publishing.