Have you ever had that feeling where you wonder and worry if you are revealing too much of yourself in the fiction you are writing? Here's the ending of one story I've been currently working on:

Now she rode in the front seat in a cat-suit get up, hiding her own secrets from him. He had seen the future as he shook Ricky’s hand. Ricky would tell her she was beautiful, that he loved her. She’d sleep with him, carve their names into a tree, and decorate her notebooks by drawing hearts around “Mrs. Nolan”.

When it was over, she would call him up to tell him that she should have known better. But he would never be the one she looked at with passion. And it made him angry. She really believed there would be no more Halloweens for them together.

He fingered the small rectangular box of matches in his pocket, took it out, and massaged the slickness of the cover. Opened it. Smiled. Heard Tina’s laughter in the distance and fingered the small wooden stick with so much power at it’s tip. He joined in with the laughter then. She would remember him forever.

It's dark. Ominous. Creepy. And I'm left to that me? What does this say about moi? Is this who I am?

There's a part of me that worried so much about writing correct and proper things...I used to worry, what if my mother reads this and then decides that she's not going to speak to me anymore? What if someone from my past reads this and thinks that a character is based off of themselves...and then gets pissed off? I've had all these fears about hurting people's feelings and not wanting them to feel like I'm this sicko. When the truth is, I know I'm not some creepy person just writing about someone wanting to set someone else on fire. I just have seen a lot and heard a lot, both the good and the bad. How much of that do I censor?

When does something turn into the "prostitution of art and literature?"


GWD said…
It's all in the purpose. I always think of what the Baha'i poet Robert Hayden wrote in an old issue of World Order Magazine. There is art of affirmation and art of negation, both of which have a place in the world. To write what inspires humanity to see possibilities is the ultimate gift a writer can offer, it seems to me.

Your blog is very meaty and thoughtful, Liz.

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