Using what you know to write what you don’t
Whenever I think about the way that I write and how I do it, I’m reminded of a line from my favourite movie, Little Women (the 1994 one, not the most recent adaptation - don’t even get me started about Chalamet as Laurie).
The March sisters are gathered together as the Pickwick Society, and when Beth is worrying about not knowing what to write for their portfolio, Jo looks at her and says, “You must never write what you know!”
From the 1994 film Little Women
I always love that line because it’s in direct contrast to what most people say about writing (which is the point, I think) - to always write what you know. But who wants to read a book about my life? A thirty-something person whose days revolve around entertaining their four-year-old and sewing? As a life, it’s pretty great, but it’s not a story that’s going to keep people up reading at night. No offence, me.
On the other hand, I find it impossible to completely make things up from scratch, especially worlds. I’ve tried creating entirely new settings and I find that oftentimes my heart isn’t in it. When I write, I need to have a certain passion, one that I just can’t achieve when I haven’t experienced it before in real life. Hence This is Not the End taking place in Washington, DC and New York City, two places I know (pretty) well.
So no shade Jo March, but writing what I don’t know doesn’t work for me either. What’s a kid to do?
My solution is the title of this post - to use what I know to write what I don’t. It basically means to interweave elements of my own life and the people around me to create entirely new things.
For example, I’m not Hugh. He’s a person I made up. But in order to make him more 3D, he needs interests and passions. I love Motown music and learning about the label’s history and that of the artists on it, so I gave Hugh that same interest. It’s something I can write about with excitement, which is why I think (read: deperately hope) it comes through in my writing.
What I’m saying here is that I like to write in little bits of myself and the people around me into my characters in order to make them more believable and relatable, and to give my writing a certain energy. So I thought it might be kind of funny to write out where I fit into my book, because I think maybe that gives it a more personal edge? I don’t know.
Basically, felt cute, might delete later. So here we go.
Motown music. Yeah, I said this one already, but it’s worth reiterating, I think. I freaking LOVE Motown music. I love its energy, I love the voices, I love the beats, I love the melodies. Everything about it is perfect, and Hugh obviously thinks so too.
Ice cream. I worked at a Baskin Robbins for three years when I was in high school/college, and it was a deeply weird experience. I wonder sometimes if maybe this is why I melded the themes of ice cream and weirdness into one, because I’m unable to detach the two. And for the record, I don’t like ice cream all that much anymore. Oooooh boy, the stories I could tell you about that Baskin Robbins.
Serial killers. No, I do not like serial killers. But basic you-know-what that I am, I find the whole concept extremely fascinating, so all those mentions in there are from my own knowledge and genuine interest. I’ve spent far too long on Richard Ramirez’s Wikipedia page. It’s not something I’m proud of.
Settings. Even thinking about this element is highlighting to me how uninventive I am - I basically have to just recreate entire rooms and buildings from my life and put them into my book because apparently I’m incapable of creating something new. Hugh and Ellen’s house is directly modelled after the house I lived in in DC for a year (to the point where my former housemate took a picture of a description of the neighbourhood that I wrote and was like LOL I KNOW WHERE THIS IS); Aunt Karen’s apartment is my aunt’s former apartment in New York City, down to the bunk beds; the Cabinet (the music venue Clark’s shitty band is playing at) is modelled after the Silent Barn, a Brooklyn venue where I once helped curate an art exhibit for a showcase night. Originally I even called the Cabinet the Silent Barn, but I realised that the SB had closed so it would be kind of weird if I kept the name (even though it’s an awesome name).
Mr. Monkey’s World-Famous Casino. I wish this gem existed in all its glory, but unfortunately it’s modelled after a casino I once went to near San Diego with my friends where I yes, stole chicken wings off the plates of unsuspecting gamblers. The mural on the ceiling doesn’t exist anywhere on this earth as far as I know, but it definitely should.
Endings. This one was key for me. I couldn’t accurately write Hugh’s passion unless it was something I too was passionate about. And while I don’t agree with him that the endings of these movies ruined the movies themselves (Interstellar is a truly incredible film), I had to genuinely hate the endings in order to include them (WHY DID MATTHEW MCCONAUGHEY’S CHARACTER LIVE?). And I especially had to have seen the movies or read the books - I tried at one point writing about something I hadn’t actually experienced firsthand, and it just didn’t work. So all that anger is truly mine. I can be a very angry person.
So there you go. All my secrets.
I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting about. I mean, writing is basically pouring out your entire soul for the world to read, so even though I might not do it intentionally, every word in there is me in some way or another. But I’ll unpick that disaster of a thought later.