When Creating Characters Damages Your Mind
There is a question that has been bothering me all semester: What is my function on Northwestern's campus? Now that I am on a wing where I feel safe and loved, I have been able to figure out my purpose here (to love others better than I have loved in the past), but the function boggles my mind. Brianne and I talked about this last night after P&W. I still don't have an answer.
I just finished the first draft of my short story for fantasy class, and *spoiler alert* I chose to create a main character with Tourette's. At first, this didn't seem like that big of a deal. After all, I talked to high school kids--complete strangers!--about my experience this summer. However, sitting here with the knowledge that my classmates are currently reading/critiquing my work changes everything.
I put an entire section of my life into one character. I gave him the one thing that I cannot love the most often in myself. I expected him to live through my written words...with a burden that I would never place on anyone. And now ten other people are going to say critical things about him...about me.
Brianne reminded me, "Don't take everything that they say to heart. They aren't criticizing you; they are criticizing your work." I knew she was right, but the absolute terror still holds a place in my heart. The cruel reality in my mind is that I am handing a huge piece of me to the readers in a way far beyond the definition of what Doctor Martin described as "the author putting a part of themselves into everything they write."
This is me that I am writing about. In some ways, the situations I placed this character into are the scenarios that I play through in my mind every day.
What if I'm not good enough? I ask myself.
What if I fail? I silently wonder.
Will I ever conquer the monster on my own? My heart wants to know.
Perhaps this is the beginning of my journey towards finding out my function at Northwestern College.
Or perhaps it is simply a cry out to the world, saying: I want to be known.
God loves me, and God's love is enough.
I just finished the first draft of my short story for fantasy class, and *spoiler alert* I chose to create a main character with Tourette's. At first, this didn't seem like that big of a deal. After all, I talked to high school kids--complete strangers!--about my experience this summer. However, sitting here with the knowledge that my classmates are currently reading/critiquing my work changes everything.
I put an entire section of my life into one character. I gave him the one thing that I cannot love the most often in myself. I expected him to live through my written words...with a burden that I would never place on anyone. And now ten other people are going to say critical things about him...about me.
Brianne reminded me, "Don't take everything that they say to heart. They aren't criticizing you; they are criticizing your work." I knew she was right, but the absolute terror still holds a place in my heart. The cruel reality in my mind is that I am handing a huge piece of me to the readers in a way far beyond the definition of what Doctor Martin described as "the author putting a part of themselves into everything they write."
This is me that I am writing about. In some ways, the situations I placed this character into are the scenarios that I play through in my mind every day.
What if I'm not good enough? I ask myself.
What if I fail? I silently wonder.
Will I ever conquer the monster on my own? My heart wants to know.
Perhaps this is the beginning of my journey towards finding out my function at Northwestern College.
Or perhaps it is simply a cry out to the world, saying: I want to be known.
God loves me, and God's love is enough.
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