Addicted to Emotion and Trauma

After writing my last blog, ‘your imagination is your greatest gift,’ some of my non-writing friends considered the authenticity of my words, and asked me exactly how much of the scene I felt.

‘All of it,’ I said.

Their surprise was obvious. For some reason they considered a writers life to be boring. They couldn’t be further from the truth.

Whether my character is in a love scene or an abusive scene, I feel her emotions. Otherwise, how would I be able to adequately portray the scene?’ Each time I write I go on a journey and lose sense of the real world, completely and utterly. I have never considered what I do to be a gift, but if it allows me during trying times to forget what is going on in my life, then maybe it is just that.

This ability did not come the instant I started to write. During the early days, I would spend hours learning my craft, and struggling with the construction of sentences and grammar, as well as pondering the structure of the story. Do the words flow, have I used too many adverbs, have I followed the philosophy of show and tell adequately? Once writing came naturally and I didn’t have to think about it, that’s when I started to enjoy this fantasy world.

It’s like driving a car. Whilst you are learning, everything you do, from changing gears to watching for road signs, is an effort. When you are proficient, you don’t think of any of those things, it happens automatically. That’s when you enjoy the speed and the power of the car.

Writing is a drug, and more than anything, I love to put myself into traumatic situations and ponder how I would feel and how I would react in such instances. What kind of person does that make me?  Similarly, what kind of people are writers of horror? Are they deranged? Sadists? Adrenaline Junkies? More on this later. All for now . . .

H

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About Honor A Dawson

I live in a rural location with my husband, dogs, cats and chickens. I love reading and writing, watching and playing tennis, and wildlife and nature.

Posted on October 25, 2013, in writing/reading and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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