When I first started working on my story “Felicity”, I remember wondering to myself whether or not I was right to write a story about people coping with the loss of someone close. It’s not an area that I’m entirely familiar with, especially not under the circumstances of what the friends experience.
Was I scared about writing about death?
Hell yeah, I was!
I think there’s this idea that is bandied around all over the place that you have to write about “what you know”. I think I agree with this to a degree, but not entirely. On the one hand, no, I don’t (thankfully) have any experience with death of this manner. However, death isn’t really what “Felicity” was ever meant to be about. It was (and still is) about friendship, dealing with problems, running away from problems and the general emotional challenges that all of us face every single day.
As a whole, I think that writing will always scare me – just a little bit – because words are potentially so powerful. They can be soul destroying. They can make something ugly, appear to be beautiful. Words are a much sharper tool than any sword, or knife. The idea of having all of those words in my hands – no matter what it is that I’m working on, is really darn scary!
