As a writer, I often pick and choose from little fragments of my life and insert them into a story. I think it’s something all creators do, really. Firstly, because real life is such a grand mixture of beauty and chaos that it’s the perfect outlet for inspiration. And secondly, because we can’t help ourselves.
It’s not that we strive to use our writing to explain past behaviors, or re-write mistakes, or seek petty revenge on people who have wronged us (though, we do that, too); it’s that every story we tell comes from within ourselves, and it can’t reach the surface without snagging onto some emotional baggage or deep-seated beliefs along the way. That being said, there is something about the creative process that both authors and audiences need to take into consideration when they experience a written work: the writer is not the narrator.
This is a phrase I always heard bounced around within creative writing classes, but I never really thought about what it meant until someone I knew at the time actually made that comparison with me and the narrator of a short piece I wrote. And in doing so, it helped me realize that, while I borrow from life, my main characters are hardly me.
The people I write about live in their own worlds, for starters. For them, everything is a distorted and exaggerated copy of what I see; because of this, they react to it differently. They have to, otherwise the adventure will never start and the lessons will never be learned. And once their story ends, it ends: they are exactly where they’re meant to be, and that’s where they’re going to stay (unless there’s a sequel).
Even my shorter flash fiction pieces convey this: the narrator I was compared to wasn’t me because her story ended with a revelation—a revelation she immediately took in, and understood, and it changed her for the better. Her story is over because her conflict/concern is over.
Me, on the other hand…
I’m still learning. Still growing. And I’ll never stop doing that until my own book is closed, and even then I’ll probably leave much unresolved. That’s why this is life, and not a story.
My narrators are not me because they are always exactly who they need to be, from beginning to end. Whether those traits are good or bad, they are there to serve the higher purpose of the story, i.e.: the drama / romance / tension / relief / heartache / joy of the moment. And in the process of serving those purposes, my narrator(s) also differ from me in that, if they have anything to do with me at all, they epitomize the very best/worst of me. My narrator is tougher and braver than I am because I often wish I was tougher and braver. My characters’ inner struggles are harder to get through than mine because it’s the struggle that speaks to their formerly mentioned purpose.
In other words, my narrator and/or characters are never me because they are always purely and beautifully them.
Night Owls, what are some details you’ve taken from your own lives to fuel your creativity?
