As a kid, I loved the idea of telling stories and evoking emotions in people. As I got older, my life had such crazy, insane, ‘did that really just f**king happen’ events, I didn’t need to delve deep into my childish imagination to dish out juicy prose.
Come on, clown pajamas for a Halloween costume, throwing up in my reading book (in front of the whole class), and milk in my Puff the Magic Dragon Thermos were so traumatic I thought there was no way I could continue. And all that was in second grade.
Had I known my life would be a major story every year, I would have kept a better diary. I mean, all that and more happened before I turned eight years old. What was next?
Fantasy monsters, spaceships, and candy eating aliens are cool (and could happen) but I love a real life story because I can relate.
Right now I am writing a memoir and a novel based on events in my real life. I have a friend who is a psychic who gave me a free reading after my husband tattooed her. She told me my life would change after I told my story. I swear, there were no animal feet or blood used in the reading.
So why am I dragging my feet like a kid in a dentist office?
Fear of success.
It is a thing.
I have written the first half of my memoir (the juicy good part with all my screw ups) and then I just stopped. WTF?! Yes, stopped and moved on to something else. I do this often.
But, I always come back. Always… I use real life in a lot of my writing. I think we all do, right?
I was talking to a co-worker the other day and he was telling me a story about how once he had to hand out church flyers when he was about eight years old. Of course, he had better things to do than hand out flyers… so how could he get rid of these pesky papers? Well, wouldn’t you know, he passed a farm every day and at the fence of the farm were goats. He couldn’t believe it when he jokingly put a flyer in front of the goat that the goat started eating it!
Handing Out Flyers problem: solved.
I used this story as a scene in my latest novel. It fit so well, I couldn’t pass it up.
Take a trip through your memory and pluck out those moments from yesteryear that you might think were no big deal, or maybe you thought you forgot about them. But you didn’t. Write about it.
…Then write about it from another point of view and embellish it a little. Or a lot.
How much real life is in your fiction?