If I were Ironman, I would never get sick. |
I take my medicine. And
I feel better. But I can still tap into that pain to summon up the sympathy
vote if it comes down to it. Which is what I do when I’m writing. Not with flu symptoms, but with angst and heartbreak and all those horrible crappy
feelings that people get when love or life kicks them in their special places. Because here’s the thing: no one really wants
to read about happy, contented married couples and their (perceived) smug
happily-ever-after fairy tale. In fact, no one wants to read about the daily
ups and downs of married life. Those little complaints like he-doesn’t-put-his-clothes-in-the-laundry-basket
or wish-I-knew-she-farts-in-her-sleep-before-the-wedding aren't interesting in fiction. Sometimes that
stuff flies in social media because
it’s easy to scroll past, but no one is going to sit and read a three hundred
page novel of marital bliss peppered with cutesy couple complaints.
Pain is real. People like the happy ending, but if there’s
no real conflict, nothing hurting, it’s not interesting. It’s human nature. In
the newspaper biz they say if it bleeds, it leads. The goriest and most
shocking stories are the first ones that come up. Not to say that there won’t
be some mindless drivel about Kardashians or Survivors or Idols on the newsreel,
but it’s mostly murder and mayhem.
Can “happy” writers write pain?
I would have killed off The Lucky One |
What does it take?
We all need that
excitement and tension and drama that comes from the darker side of humanity stuff. We need
the connection to the characters. We don’t need a sugar-coated love story. Even
the Nicholas Sparks’ of the world throw in the curve balls so that people keep
reading. Yeah, he ends his mostly happily-ever-after—I would like him better as
a writer if he occasionally killed the hero at the end instead of the villain. That’s
real stuff. And as writers, the goal is
to always write real. Yeah, it’s fun
when Danny and Sandy ride away into the sky in Greased Lightning after Sandy
gets all tarted up and loose and stuff, but hello, they just graduated high
school. Eventually she’s going off to secretary school and he’ll get a job as a
mechanic and they’ll squeeze out a few brats and buy a nice home in the ‘burbs.
And no one’s going to read that book.
So I write about the bad stuff too—the real stuff. People
think I’m dark but I’m not dark. Not really. Really I’m the happy rainbow
unicorn kitten fairytale girl. My life has it’s crapfest parts but generally we
are a happy crowd. {Side note: I’m always
suspicious when people say they’re happy. Because they might look all smiley
and Stepford-y but you just know there are mutilated bodies in their basement
or at the very least a few decapitated stolen lawn trolls in the trunk of their
SUV.} But anyway we are happy, generally
speaking, besides the occasional money worries and algebra and viruses and
diaper rashes and temper tantrums and wicked zombie ant infestations.
I read somewhere one time—at least I think I did, though I
might be making this up—that when your life is generally going well you have
more nightmares. The theory was that the brain has to have something to gripe
about and if you don’t give it enough fodder for mayhem and evil then it just
makes it up and turns it into giant man eating zombie rats that chase you
around Dreamland and try to bite off your ears. I’m paraphrasing, of
course. Anyway, that works for writing.
The happier and more content I am, the darker my writing gets. I work at it, I channel it because I know
that it’s more interesting if it has that murky human element. I learned that from Kate Chopin and Edgar Allen Poe. And just when you think it’s all getting better, it’s all going to
work out… kill ‘em off. Your characters,
that is.
Dark/light/love and pain? Leave a comment below about your favorite dark story or technique to tap into your dark side. It's not as bad as the Jedi claim.
Julie Simmons-Wixom is like rainbow-and-sunshine coated dark chocolate. Email her here if that sounds delicious.
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