I’ve mentioned before on this blog that I’ve been referred to as the Queen of Darkness by someone who knows my writing well. What he may or may not understand is that writing fiction frees me from the darkness. In fact, it saved me when fear had reduced my world to approximately 4000 square feet. When anxiety and depression threatened to make me a recluse, writing provided the opportunity to safely explore the things that kept me awake late into the night.
Real life events and people may inspire scenes and characters in my fictional works, but they are still fictional. My worst fears can take place on the page, and when all is done, no one bleeds, no one mourns, no one is left with lasting trauma.
So yes, I’ve shaken babies, beheaded children, and crashed planes. I’ve dwelt with unfriendly spirits and destroyed families one life at a time. I’ve sent one spouse off to cheat on another, and given over teenage girls to lecherous manipulators. If my writing career lasts long enough, I’m sure I’ll do worse.
Terror of the most real kind enriches my fiction in a way few things can.
Go write something!