The Story Behind My Story

So, as promised, this post won't be a "woe-is-me, I hate my life" kind of post. Disappointment is nothing new in my life; but that one smarted more than I thought it would. Good news is that I've upped my vitamins and focusing on work and my book. Onward and upward, if you will.

So, speaking of my book, it's not going as well as I originally planned. I had (have) a great idea for the book, but I didn't have any connection with the main character. That is tantamount to utter failure unless you find a way to fix it. Which, with me, came in the form of an epiphany while waiting for a bus. Which, any writer will tell you is quite common. At least 90% of writing happens in your head long before the words enter the page. The epiphany, and the connection is this: I made my main character an alcoholic. 

Now, thank God, I am not an alcoholic, but I have family that is and, if memory serves me right, on my biological father's side, it was a bit of an issue. One of many, many, many issues. But I digress. The strongest connection I have with the disease is that I was in love with someone who was in love with the bottle. Well, I'm not sure if she actually loved to drink. To be honest, I doubt she did. Yet she was bound to it stronger than any chain. 

Now, I'm not sure if she's fully aware of how much I loved her. It started as friendof a friend, which quickly turned into us becoming friends. I had a crush on her from the get-go, but never pursued it because I didn't think I stood a chance. We grew close, through phone calls and Facebook, not to mention the times we actually spent together. And the closest we came to a relationship happening was right when I moved to Texas. 

We kept in close touch through the first year of me being down there. But she, not surprisingly, found a boyfriend and communication fell by the wayside. Which is putting it nicely. Essentially she dropped off the face of the Earth and many people who she was once close to no longer are in contact with her. 

I was, and still am, for the record, supportive of her through her struggle. I never have, nor will I ever hold her demons against her. We all have our secret battles and private scars. I am far from perfect and hold no illusion thereof. I learned many things from her struggle and I hope to pass them on to my character in a way that truly represents the hell that addiction truly is.

I'm not writing this for myself, which is why it holds greater importance with me. I do this to honor my long lost friend and I am even going so far as to dedicate it to her, once it's published. 

So, there you have it. One more piece of the shifting puzzle for you. I hope this post finds you well. Take care and take care of yourselves out there.