a fictional life

I was thinking about writing stories, and why I write, and I had this thought that maybe I write stories as a way to make my thoughts and emotions more accessible to others, in a medium that’s less confronting because it’s more detached.

But then I thought about it some more, and I thought, no, it’s not really detached. Story-writing is very personal, and that whole statement seems contradictory for some reason.

Maybe I need to add in the word “seemingly” – it is seemingly more detached. I can tell people that my stories are “pure fiction”, all the while knowing and believing that all fiction is autobiographical to some extent. (I really wish I remembered where I got that quote from. Goodreads tells me it’s from author P.D. James.)

I suppose it makes sense to write about things that are important to you, or that you’re deeply interested in. It certainly would not make sense to write about things that you care very little about, or that you have zero interest in.

The more I write (and the more I read), the more I want to write, and the more I think what a wondrous thing it is that I can write and that I love to write. How lucky am I? Now if only I could make a living out of it, then I’d be set.

2 thoughts on “a fictional life

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