Why write about "depressing" subjects?

I don't know where to start with this subject, but it's an important one, so I want to address it. I know that more people are familiar with my poetry than my fiction, as there isn't much of the latter “out there”, as yet. The fact is that I deal with dark and controversial subjects throughout all of my writing. I am focusing more upon my fiction here, although much of what I say applies across the board.

Firstly, my fictional characters are not me. They each contain facets of myself, to varying degrees, but none are me, as such. That isn't how fiction works. Some experiences of certain characters are heavily autobiographical, but there will always be fictionalised aspects, and it shouldn't be important for a reader to know what is based on my actual life experiences, and what is not. That is not to say that readers won't, or even shouldn't, be interested – and often, I will be happy to clarify and share my own stories, since I am a naturally open person.

There is definitely an element of therapy to writing for me, that is essential to my survival – to my sanity, such as it is. I do write to explore subjects because I have been through them myself, or been through something similar. Yet, this is not always the case. I have had, for my writing, to research subjects, including heroin addiction and abortion, and many others, of which I have no direct, personal experience. Is it “depressing”, if you like? Yes, at times. I would say it is deeply painful, and also makes me more compassionate – and, at times, paralysed by my own inability to fully understand, and do justice to the subjects. The social issues won't go away by ignoring them, but then again, is it enough that many of us attempt to write about them, in our fiction? Isn't there more that we can and should be doing? Sometimes it isn't easy to know what to do, but I can't close my heart or mind to themes, to which I feel drawn. I am so restricted by my own health and circumstances, and I don't have the answers – only more questions, and they replay, on an endless loop, inside my mind. I think that the best answer is that I would find it more depressing to ignore the issues, and I don't know if I will ever achieve what I ideally want to through my work, but I just have to keep going. 

I hope that this made at least some sense.

My writing journey

Before I could physically write, I was already, in a sense, a writer. I invented people, worlds and situations. I daydreamed. I “played games”, and assigned roles to my brother and friends. I talked to myself, as well. Past tense...? Well, not entirely – because I'm a writer, and writers are weird. That's my excuse, anyway.

When I was five or six, and able to go beyond the formation of individual sentences, I wrote my first stories. I was that child who loved writing stories at school so much that I wrote my own, out of choice. I found Maths boring and difficult. I have the co-ordination disorder dyspraxia – which, at the time, was undiagnosed – and was, therefore, useless at the so-called “fun” activities: pretty much every sport, basically. I was bullied relentlessly, right through school, and struggled with depression and anxiety, from a very young age. I never fitted in, and longed to, but if I had, then maybe I would have been happy but ordinary, and not a writer. It was the one thing that I was able to do better than average, and I focused on that.

I do have periods of writers' block, for want of a better term. I also have long reading slumps. I don't write every day. I would like to say that I do, but I don't. That's just the truth. I currently have many health issues, physical and mental health. I have been let down so many times, by people I thought I could rely upon – family members, who have been less than supportive, to put it mildly – and so-called “friends”, who have hurt me deeply. Poetry has often helped me through, and currently, I do have a novel that I am working on – an old project, which I revived a few years ago. I am making slow progress, but getting there. It's a project that means so much to me, more than I can express - and yet, I am terrified of failure. Sometimes, the fear leaves me paralysed, and I don't get anything done at all.

Still, I do believe in what I am doing, with all my heart, and I know that I have to finish my novel. I did finish another, and shelved the first draft, without revising, which I am okay with. In my heart, I felt, and still do, that finishing was enough, in that instance.

This is just a very brief summary of where I am at, with my writing, but it's a start. I want to start everywhere and say everything, but that is impossible. Writing is my life. I've been in some dark places, and I truly believe that I wouldn't be here without my fiction and poetry.