I’m working on a piece that hurts to write. I’m finding myself being put back into a place and time I’d sooner like to forget. It’s vital to the larger memoir I’m writing. It is a struggle, to say the least.
I’m wondering, Tumblr people, how do you write about old trauma? How do you create a safe space to return to that dark place? Do you have any suggestions?
My advisor wants more of me in my writing. Just when I thought I was getting there, he’s called me out on it. It’s left me a bit breathless, but it was the harsh reality check I needed. This is my constant struggle. I can’t seem to get out the words in the format and way that I should. I talk in circles around what it is I’m trying to say. I can’t get to the meat of the matter. My advisor knows this, sees this, and has thrown the gauntlet down. I’m not writing a book, but notes about the book I want to write. That was damn harsh, but so damn true.
So, what do I do? How do I break through this bullshit I do? I write more. I redraft. I reexamine everything I’ve written and cut out the crap. I answer the question “why.”
He pointed to the fact that sex is an important part of my life, and it is missing in my memoir. He wants to know why it’s important to me. No body has ever commented on that before. I’ve not written about sex in my life in way that is both real and evocative. I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I should. I certainly don’t know where to begin with regards to that sort of writing.
It certainly scares me to be that revelatory. I have this side of me, this animal inside, this aching desire. It’s the hidden Thom. It’s the piece that I only reveal in the middle of the night, with a bit of booze flowing in my veins. Nobody really knows this side of me. I have not given it the light of day, but it’s part of me, and thus part of my writing.