WatchDramaDigest: Your fiction is trying to tell you something


What I learned when my first novel refused to follow my outline...	View in browser

Have you ever felt like your writing comes from some deep, true place inside you, but you can't quite pinpoint what that place is or why you're compelled to write what you write?

I had always wanted to be a writer. I think many introverts feel the same way. We live internally, preferring to express ourselves within the receptive, non-judgmental pages of our journals than to open up to another person. A blank sheet of paper or a white screen will always listen. Like Joan Didion said, "I don't know what I think until I write it down."

But becoming an actual published author seemed like a ridiculous dream.

Then in November 2012, when eBooks were becoming the norm and many indie authors were seeing great success, becoming a writer seemed a real possibility. I decided to participate in National Novel Writing month. I had never written a novel before. I had no idea how to begin, but the challenge was thrilling.

My story began with a sculptor and his muse, an idea my sister gifted to me. I outlined the plot from the time the characters met till the happy end, each chapter mapped out according to a generic story structure formula I found on the internet.

I intended for it to be a contemporary romance. But as I began writing, something unsettling happened.

The story mutated. It broke free from the outline and shaped itself into a completely different beast. No matter how hard my logical brain tried to steer the narrative where I thought it should go, the characters veered off in directions I could've never imagined. I was baffled by the mysterious, interior worlds uncovered by writing a fictional story.

Now looking back on that first novel-writing experience, and all that avalanched out of Oblivion Black, I realize that the creative act forced my deepest questions, thoughts, and feelings to the surface, a side of myself that had always been waiting to be voiced.

The anger, the pain, the confusion, the doubts that had been censored or buried were played out in the trials and journeys of my characters. What started out as a fun project of melodramatic romance became a dark, psychological deep dive, ultimately ending in my main character's spiritual catharsis. A closure I also experienced in telling the story to myself.

And that is how I experience being a fiction writer. I am writing my way back home to myself. At the same time, I'm reaching out to those who might need to hear the same message.

Writing fiction has a way of revealing our innermost selves. In many ways, it goes deeper than talk therapy or journaling because we act out our most secret fantasies or shadow tendencies. We hide within our characters and their stories, discovering things we've hidden from our very own waking life. Writing fiction bridges that gap between your conscious and unconscious mind.

I didn't understand what was happening at the time. I never set out to write dark fiction and horror. I couldn't figure out where I fit as an author in the real world. I was uncomfortable promoting my books and putting myself out there because I didn't feel 100% authentic.

Years later, after studying Jungian archetypes and other models like Myers Briggs, Enneagrams, and Motivational Maps, I saw a pattern in all the books and writers I read and knew personally.

Each writer has a unique set of values, which gives their writing its soul. Once a writer locks into their values, they recognize their unique gifts as creatives, cultivate their strengths, and express themselves more fully through their fiction. This allows them to connect deeply with readers, turning mere entertainment into something that leaves a lasting effect on their hearts and minds.

You, as a writer, are a metaphor, writing in symbols about characters who are also symbolic. In waking life, you are a son or daughter, a parent, sibling, friend, worker, and member of your community. But in your creative life, you're projected into words and iterate your unique pattern through them, leaving your stamp on everything you create.

Through this process of letting my fiction take me where it wanted me to go, my writer archetype was unearthed. In Write Catalyst, I am The Mystic writer archetype. It doesn't mean I write about people with supernatural powers or ancient tomes of secret magic. I take the most unlovable, unredeemable people, put them through the dark night of the soul so they are forced to grow into their best selves. The Mystic writer makes their characters' personal journeys transformative on the most profound levels. They take leaden characters and transmute them into gold.

What confused me before now makes sense. Knowing my core values as a writer has given me clarity.

My intention underlies everything I write, and it's supposed to. My themes of personal evolution and spiritual growth aren't weird, but essential to making my stories' impact that much stronger. Instead of trying to force myself into the box of this or that genre, I use genre as a vehicle for my greater, underlying purpose. I can write horror and sci-fi and psychological fiction with confidence by trusting in the writing that makes my soul sing.

This makes writing flow easier. It makes life more inspired. I feel more comfortable promoting myself now—because it's not about selling books. It's about what I stand for and what I hope to do for readers.

Yes, we need to do the work—the editing, the querying, the self-promotion—but we need a higher purpose to power our creative force.

Your fiction is trying to tell you something about yourself. The question is—are you listening?

Think about everything you've written.

What are the recurring themes?

What problems are your protagonists constantly confronting?

What might you be trying to resolve within yourself?

When you understand what inner dynamics you're working out in your fiction, you understand why your stories matter—not just to readers, but to yourself. You stop second-guessing your themes. You stop apologizing for what moves you. You stop trying to write like everyone else.

You write like yourself. Finally.