Problems in Life Become Problems in Fiction

My process of writing fiction

Yellow door in Northern Ireland

Whenever I can convince myself to sit down and write fiction for long periods (long enough that I get at least some sort of story structure and/or short draft out of it), I find I have written about my life. Time and again, something I’ve drafted turns out to have a character that is struggling with the same thing I’m struggling with. Or they’re in a place that I love trying to learn about and navigate it. Or there is a situation that I wish would happen to me in response to things that have happened, the story being a place where I let my daydreams run wild.

Writing fiction is not something I do for money or others. It is something that I’ve always done and always wanted to do professionally, but I have a hard time finishing any given story. I’m starting to wonder if it’s because I’m subconsciously writing my own story into my characters’ lives. My story doesn’t have an ending, so how can theirs?

Recently, someone in my writing group shared a quote from The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck that, when interpreted, boiled down to writing being a problem she enjoyed having and enjoyed solving. I related to this, and I’d like to take it a step further: I write to solve problems in my own life, get things out of my head, and otherwise release myself of them by giving any issues that may arise to fictional people. I have then done the mental work of both creating a solution and distancing myself from it. This provides enough perspective to, as long as I follow through with it, help me solve problems in my real life.

The current problem I’d like to solve stems from that. Once I’ve solved a problem in my real life or at least moved on enough that it’s no longer top of mind, the story fizzles out. I don’t stick with it because I’m now jumping to the next real-life-turned-fiction plot. There are a few adages that are relevant here:

• Write what you know.

We tell writers this from a young age. You can’t write about being fifty if you’re only fifteen. It’s as simple as that. The human experience is crucial to writing. If you haven’t experienced it, it’s going to be hard to convince someone who has that you’re telling an authentic story. Even a story about creatures from Mars has to feel authentic and relatable to readers.

Yet, historical fiction writers write about being pirates and Victorian damsels all the time. There is a level of research you’re able to do and get away with as a writer. If you’ve ever gone down the rabbit hole of Tumblr, Reddit, and other writer-specific resources, you’ll find pages of lists helping writers understand Medieval English food and the proper way to craft a canoe. You can learn some things, and you should learn lots of things.

• Be careful what you say and do to writers: it may end up in their next work of fiction.

I think all artists are guilty of this. Something finds its way to your brain—whether it’s an overheard conversation or your best friend’s love life—and suddenly inspiration strikes. As long as you slap the label “fiction” on it and don’t write anything too damning or identifiable (the general suggestion is to combine people in your life into one character plus add a few traits from your imagination, a real witch’s brew), you should be in the clear. That’s not to say that your great uncle Eddie won’t come asking why that conversation in your last novel sounds an awful lot like Thanksgiving, but you do have plausible deniability now. The world is your inspiration because, once again, rooting your fiction in reality is the key to relateability.

• Read to write.

You have to read to be a better writer. You have to learn what does and doesn’t work. You have to know what came before you. This makes sense to me in the academic realm. For example, when film majors watch a lot of movies so they can better understand different elements to create their own films. It makes sense to me that readers become writers and that writers must read to better know the canon they’re writing into.

In practice, however, I see myself emulating a storyline. When I was reading Barbara Park’s Junie B. Jones series, I wrote a story about a little girl who always had Eloise-style antics happening in her life and even drew a cover that was in the same style as Junie B. Jones. It’s so easy to say hey, this worked. Let me see if I can take a stab at it. It feels like plagiarism (and my Junie B. Jones knock off probably was), but it’s an honest way of learning. We all do it; just don’t sell it as your own idea. (Adding “inspired by” is a great way to get around this, but you didn’t hear that from me. If you want to be scared about plagiarism and learn a few life lessons, try reading R. F. Kuang’s Yellowface.)

I use these bits of information to make myself feel better about using my experiences and the media I consume in my work. Nobody has seen my fiction yet, so I’m in the clear for now. I love reading, and I genuinely think it’s important to read to know how to best publish in the genre you want to publish in. It’s also just good for you. If I was only a writer and never left my house or talked to anyone, I would be bored and sad. I would also probably stop writing. Existing as a human is important to writing. I would like to finish at least one of the stories rattling around in my brain, in my many notebooks, and on my computer, and maybe this is me holding myself accountable.

I’ll end by sharing with you some wisdom my writing workshop leader left us with this week: Not sharing your writing doesn’t make you any less of a writer.

Sharing writing is one goal. That’s why I have this Substack. I intend to share something with you every week. It stops the paralysis of anticipation. It stops the perfectionism in its tracks. It encourages me to write, and once I get started, once I make it somewhat of a habit, it’s easy to push myself to write the next thing. But I write my fiction stories for myself right now. I can imagine someone showing up at my door and telling me exactly what I want to hear. I can imagine myself on a beach calmly reading until it’s my turn to be Nancy Drew (The White Lotus is back!). Writing a story about my problems makes them enjoyable to have and to solve. Hopefully, they’ll be stories worth reading one day too.

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Weekly R.E.P.O.R.T.

Reading: The Lager Queen of Minnesota by J. Ryan Stradal
If you haven’t read anything by J. Ryan Stradal, start with Kitchens of the Great Midwest. He tells beautiful intergenerational stories that tie food up with home and growth.

Eating: Quesadillas
Look, I will always be a pasta girly. I made stuffed shells the other night and intend to make mac and cheese this week too. However, a good quesadilla got me through many college days, and I can’t turn my back on them now!

Playing: New Girl. On repeat. Night and day.

Obsessing: I’ve been on an orange juice kick lately.

Recommending: Tell your people that you love them.

Treating: Ghirardelli Chocolate Supreme Brownie Mix
You really can’t go wrong. It doesn’t matter what size or material your pan is, you’re going to get good brownies. (If you don’t, I can’t be held accountable.)

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That’s all she wrote…

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