I was talking to my best friend yesterday. Frank came up from Oregon for a visit, so he and I spent yesterday just hanging out and reminiscing, as old men have a habit of doing.
Frank has been my best friend since high school. We were college roommates. We think alike, look alike, and act alike. It’s a bit freaky, truth be told, but it’s also very cool, that kind of deep bond with another human being.
So we were talking about our childhoods, and we were marveling at just how normal our childhoods were. Our parents may not have been perfect, but by God they knew how to raise children. There was dysfunction in our families, for sure, but our overriding memories of those years are good memories, and you better believe we are both very grateful.
I bring that up, on a writing site, because it is part of the marvel that is creative writing. I have no dark memories from childhood. I was not molested, I did not suffer emotional abuse . . . there was nothing of the sort. I played ball, I had friends, I goofed around, I got average grades, and I was loved. Yes, I experienced darkness during my adult years, because of alcoholism, but the years prior to that were sunshine and chocolate chip cookies.
And yet I am able to find empathy for those who have suffered. I have found compassion for those who have led much harder lives than I have. I am able to understand what they feel, and my characters reflect that understanding.
I have never been in the military, but I have an understanding of the experience. I have never been in a truly violent situation, but I can imagine what it must be like. I have never owned a gun, never will, but I write about them all the time and I’ve been told my writing is believable.
I guess, what I’m saying, is you do not have to experience that which you write about. Human emotions are transferable for those who simply observe and are accepting. Pain is pain is pain, no matter the source. Elation is elation is elation, and loss is loss is loss. I was watching an interview with an actress, and she was explaining how she is able to cry during some scenes and emit such believable angst. She said she simply remembers moments in her life which were especially traumatic, for her, and transfers those feelings into her acting. I can relate to that easily having held my dying father, a man I loved greatly, when I was twenty.
Tap into it all when you are writing. Somewhere you will find inspiration if you welcome it with open arms!
Bill
“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”
Billybuc
Artistry With Words 