I’m currently working on a novel that is about 80% finished. Writing this book is hurting me, hurting me with every single sentence. The reason is that in my mind the manuscript is linked with something that used to bring me a joy but then proceeded to break my heart. And since this thing that broke my heart is not relationship trouble or unemployment or some other kind of personal pain that it is easy to find a sympathetic ear for, I am pretty much stuck dealing with this on my own.

The manuscript constantly reminds me of the hurt and also prevents me from moving on and getting over it. And there have been many times where I considered just ditching this project or rewriting it to sever all ties to what hurt me, which would probably also make it more marketable in the bargain. Besides, this novel is not even in my usual genre, it’s not the sort of thing I usually write and I’m not sure what to do with it. Just abandoning the project or pressing the delete button would be so easy. Yet for some reason, this is also the one story that just won’t let go.

Thanks for giving me the courage to keep pressing on.

If you’re afraid of writing the next line, because you fear that it’s too much or the reader won’t like it, or something, then you definitely should go for it. Writing shouldn’t be safe. Your readers probably won’t feel any more emotion than you do when you write. Therefore if you’re not feeling it, neither will the reader.

I do have on issue with your post: “the hat-trick of writing”
A “hat-trick” is triplet of some kind, and specifically refers to the third of the triplet: “With Robert’s hat-trick, the score is now three to nothing, all scored by Robert”. In your post, I only see the two hinges mentioned, visible and hidden. I could see a third being a hat-trick, then it would be like the “fantasy hinge” for instance, but I think you only mention the two. I dunno. The expression just didn’t work for me.

I heard Australia writer Sue Woolfe speak last year at the Byron Bay Writers Festival about “dangerous writing” – where our writing takes us to places we really don’t want to go .. as you speak of, through fear or hurt, or because what we write of our characters we find morally repugnant or disturbing. She said that when you withdraw you run the very real risk of shutting down the story.

If you are unwilling to tell the story of your characters they way “they” want to, rather than the way in which is “safe” foryou to do – they are very likely to tell you to bugger off and stop sharing the story. This happened to Woolfe because she tried to stop a character being a peeping Tom.

I had an experience of this last year during NaNoWriMo when a character revealed one of those invisible hinges to me and I almost vomited on the spot. My first reaction – at home alone writing on a Saturday afternoon was to run – run really far away from what I was writing. Then I thought I could ignore what had been exposed to me. My next realisation was my entire story would close down if I didn’t allow this to happen … after all, as digusting as it was, it was actually true – it made so much sense. It linked so many things. So I let it be.

I know last year I wrote some of my best stories when I probed the dark bits of the psyche, the unhealed places in my heart. It would have been easier to have not gone there – but ultimatedly “the uncomfortable places” allowed me to grow as a writer.

Thanks for your thoughts Lilith. I love following you on Facebook and Twitter!