Insight Into My Writing

Every month, as a member of Amazon Prime, I get access to a collection of "First Reads" books. This Prime "benefit" is advertised as "early access to an editors' pick". This month, there was a free "bonus short read". It was the short story, "When We Were Friends", by Jane Green, a bestselling "chick lit" author, and original "mum lit" author.

In the story, I got a funny feeling in my gut when I read this paragraph, about a meeting between two close friends a year after their falling out:

"There is a long silence. Lucy sips her coffee and looks out over the water, wishing she hadn't agreed to come. It is too awkward, too painful to feel so distant from someone she once loved so much."

The funny feeling was one I knew, from a similar feeling I had when I met someone I had once loved, but now was not part of their life. I knew this feeling, felt it in my gut, could see myself at the moment I had this feeling. But the strange thing about this was, that it took another couple minutes for a question to ooze into my consciousness:  Why hadn't I ever written about this?

All the times that I had been urged, cajoled, tricked, encouraged, courageously chosen to write from my heart, about authentic experiences, the idea never crossed my mind to write about this feeling.

I now sit here, knowing without a doubt, that there are other, perhaps countless other, experiences I might be able to write about. It's like a door opening, an insight into my blindness.

For this, I thank you, Jane Green and Amazon.

Because of this glimpse, given to me by another perspective, another person, I have been thinking about my writing, and the kinds of writing I find enjoyable, and the kinds of writing I don't enjoy.

I have always been intrigued by the struggle I have, between what I call "inside/outside" writing.

"Inside" writing dwells on the emotional impact of the circumstances of the story. Inside writing makes me uncomfortable. Partly, because I have such a hard time coping with my own emotions (even being aware of them is a challenge), and partly because focusing on the emotional response to a circumstance is, by its very nature, reactive. I feel like a victim of circumstances when I live in my emotions.

"Outside" writing is writing which dwells on the choices made given the circumstances of the story. Outside writing puts me into a domain where I am much more comfortable: the so-what-are-you-going-to-do-about-that pro-active mode.

Inside/outside also reflects my desire to be in control of my life. When I am more emotional, I feel more out of control, perhaps because the emotions are backward-looking, into a past that cannot be changed? When I am making decisions, I feel more in control, perhaps because the choices are forward-looking, into the future, that I can change?

This is perhaps why I struggle reading emotion-laden books. Reading them makes me feel like a victim? Whereas adventure books, science fiction, choice-laden books make me feel more in control? "Outside" writing may be the most important determinant of books I like: they offer insights into how I can be pro-active.

Other questions that come to mind:

• Does experiencing my emotions, that resulted from circumstances, contribute to living in "I am a victim"?
• Does my connecting with my emotions detract from taking responsibility for my choices?
• What emotions tend to be pro-active versus reactive?
• How much do I have a choice to experience my emotions?
• How much of my emotion is reactive? Can I make a list of circumstances that generated an emotional reaction? What do I do with such emotions?
• Does my "positive attitude" tie into my lack of emotions?
• Does my easy willingness to forgive tie into my lack of emotions?
  

I'm writing this even as I think it, since I don't want to forget this insight. I turned 70 last month, and memory, especially ephemeral epiphanies, are too soon forgotten, even forgotten that they were forgotten!