Writing from Dark Places
I know divorce. My parents had eight of them, all but one by the time I was thirteen. I have called four men “Dad,” as if the label was interchangeable. To me, divorce is a very personal story of abandonment, lies, and broken hopes. Simply put, I learned that people walk away from each other with far too much ease. The men who passed through my life taught me that children were disposable, and regret is a poor Band-Aid for wounds that have carved deep under the skin.
These kinds of scars don’t go away. You learn to move on despite them, and become the person you are meant to be both because of and despite them. And still, sometimes a moment, a look, a stupid commercial can pick at the wound, exposing it to a bloody mass you have to heal all over again.
The kind of pain I’m talking about goes soul deep. It lives in a dark, airless place, suffocating between the things we are afraid of and the things we are ashamed of. Like most writers, this pain ends up in my writing. There are scenes I read, and go, “Yep. Doesn’t take an analyst to figure out where that came from.” Too often, the first emotion I turn to in my characters is anger. It’s the easiest to understand and to feel. Anger is camouflage for the walking wounded.
Anger is too simple, though. It hides the complex snare of emotions we feel, blending the hurt and sorrow with the rage. Sometimes I wonder if I am too guarded, if my armor expands to protect my characters from feeling too much. How do you pull off the armor to expose those dark places to the light? Worse, how do you show those dark places to others, knowing they will casually discuss and mayhap dismiss them? This is something I am challenging myself to do in my writing every time I sit at my laptop. Some days I fail. And other days, I write a scene that leaves me crying and upset and proud. As writers, we pick at our own wounds, exposing them and, if we are lucky, we experience a moment of catharsis. If we are very lucky, we help our readers to experience a catharsis of their own. That bit of gold may make living the hurt over and over again worth it.
This monstrosity is my family tree. You will note that this does not include aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, or the many step-siblings I’ve had. I don’t have a website big enough to encompass my family’s particular brand of craziness. Have a question? I’m glad to answer.
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7 Responses to "Writing from Dark Places"
on March 15, 2010 | to this post
Beautiful post, Corrine. =) Totally feel for you. I have lots of WIP ideas, but so far none of them have touched on the subject that’s scarred me the most… still, I’m looking forward to it, in a weird way. The paragraph on anger is truth times a billion!
on March 15, 2010 | to this post
Heartbreaking post. I think it takes a lot of courage to write through acute pain, but brave writing is by far the best to read.
on March 15, 2010 | to this post
wow. amazing post. so intense.
im in awe of you.
on March 15, 2010 | to this post
“How do you pull off the armor to expose those dark places to the light?”
Through awareness, like introspection. And blogging.
(Am I close?)
Corrine, I love your writing. Can’t wait to hold one of your books in my hands.
on March 18, 2010 | to this post
Great, brutally honest post, Cory. And I totally agree–I think sometimes we do rely on anger too much when writing our characters. It’s easy, it’s defensive, it doesn’t reveal too much. I know I’m guilty of it at times–bc when you do dig deeper in those characters, it can feel like you’re exposing bits of yoyurself. Which of course, is what we want to do–it’s just challenging to do sometimes.
Hugs on the family tree–it’s gotta be rough.
on March 19, 2010 | to this post
Thank God for the one man who has been a constant in your life and mine…who has shown us a glimpse of what real love can be…a “man” named Steve.
on March 22, 2010 | to this post
My parents are divorced as well, and I’m happy to say that years later many of the scars have healed and I have a huge happy family full of step-siblings and nieces and cousins because of it. But I remember writing my first book and dealing with a character whose father had died – it was rough. It drudged up a lot of emotions I didn’t want to face. And even though the book was fantasy, it was REAL.
It’s amazing how fiction can do that do us.
So sorry about your family, but thanks for this awesome post.