I had a moment of clarity today. I realized that while I do want to write the story that I’ve been working on, I think I need to go back to the drawing board to make sure that I’m not inserting too much of my own life and my own struggles into it. While I think there is a place for grains of truth in fiction, I also think that there should be a limit. Changing names, changing a couple of details, and writing a story about my own life isn’t what I want to do. Not only do I feel uncreative doing so, I feel too close to the main character.
The other issue that comes up when there is too much of one’s own life in a work of fiction is that you risk people seeing through the minute changes and figuring out which character they are. If that happens, you can wind up having to explain that you don’t really see Bobbie Sue the character and Billie Jo the friend as the same person, that there are parts that are similar but parts are complete fiction. Anyone who is a fan of October Road has learned that lesson!
With that, it’s time to put my story to bed for a while and I think my body needs to follow. I’m beginning to confuse myself and deep thoughts have no place in a sleep-deprived mind.