Psychologists often recommend keeping a journal as a way to process thoughts and feelings, creating an outlet that can be shared or kept private. There’s something healing about pouring emotions onto a page. Sometimes this exercise is sufficient to help people process their feelings without any other therapy. At times, it aids the therapy they do undergo by helping them examine their deeper thoughts.
I’ve known all about that for years, but I didn’t realize writing fiction is also an excellent way to explore what I’ve been through.
For example, my parents divorced when I was a teenager. At the time, I chose to bury my feelings rather than work through them because my mother was relying on me for emotional support, and I believed I needed to stay strong and positive for her. Years later, I realized there were things holding me back. I knew it was time to revisit those feelings and give them a voice. I did so by writing a book titled Take My Advice. My main character was actually me. Everything she experienced was something I’d gone through myself. Of course, her story’s plot was fictional because my own life wasn’t exciting enough to write a book about, but everything relating to her parents’ divorce was based on my own thoughts and emotions as a confused and worried teen. Everything I’d wanted to say and everything I’d been afraid to feel ended up in that book. I won’t lie—it was painful, but it helped me understand myself better and recognize things I’d been reluctant to look at before. My feelings of betrayal, abandonment, and insecurity were finally allowed to rise to the surface, freeing me to begin healing from them. (Take My Advice by Tristi Pinkston, 2018.)
Another example came when I was a young mother. My father passed away in 2010, and that was a different kind of grief altogether. I helped coordinate some of his care during his final days, and I spent a lot of time with him then. Because I felt I’d lost him a bit during the divorce—only seeing him once or twice a week—losing him again seemed utterly unfair. I was able to take those feelings and work through my grief by writing a book about a girl who lost her father—this one less autobiographical, but her emotions were still mine. (Turning Pages by Tristi Pinkston, first edition 2012, second edition 2019.)
Although each of my stories contains aspects of myself in one way or another, these two books contain far more of “me” than any others. By having my characters voice something I’ve always wanted to say, I’m able to release some of those pent-up emotions in ways that feel constructive and healing, and that sort of vulnerability makes for a better story because it feels more authentic.
I’ve also found it cathartic to give those characters satisfying endings. I might not have everything figured out myself, but by helping my characters find their answers, I’ve experienced a sense of closure that gives me peace until I can reach that point.
Here are a few things I’ve learned as I took these painful experiences and made them into fiction:
- I need to give myself permission to write without restrictions or rules. The first draft is always the messiest because that’s where all the not-so-pretty feelings come out. I allow myself to say anything and everything I’ve been holding back, and it’s both painful and freeing. I don’t edit anything at this point; I just let the words flow until I’ve said everything I want to say.
- I’ve had to learn what to leave in and what to take out. A lot of that initial writing wasn’t needed for the book. In fact, much of it wasn’t appropriate to include. I’ve experienced things that were for me alone (such as answers to prayers and personal miracles) that I wouldn’t ever publish. Other things would have exposed me too much and made me even more vulnerable. By being selective about what to incorporate into the story, I can share what feels most valuable without giving too much of myself away.
- I can use my fictional characters not only as the lens through which I see everything, but also as a shield so I can look at my own situation from a safe distance. Giving my thoughts and feelings to my characters allows me to analyze them, deciding which things I’m ready to let go of and which things still need some work to overcome.
Above all, during this process, I’ve learned that the Savior walks with us every step of the way, hoping that we will give our griefs and sorrows to Him and stop trying to carry everything ourselves. We simply aren’t strong enough for that, no matter how hard we try. That’s why He invites us to come unto Him to find rest.
I believe we are each blessed with a creative gift not only to beautify the world and uplift those around us, but as a method of releasing the hurts and the anxieties we feel because of our struggles. Writing is a gift I use to work through my trials, but it’s not the only medium available to us. Dancers, artists, singers, and many others use their own creative talents to strengthen their mental health and work through their own complicated emotions. I encourage each of you to explore ways to use your talents to release things that may be burdening you so that you can find healing.
Tristi Pinkston
Tristi Pinkston is the mother of four, the wife of one, the author of one hundred and seventy-five, and the editor of oodles. She serves as the chairman of the board for the Bear Lake Arts Council and participates enthusiastically (if not with utmost skill) in their theatrical productions. She is currently the editor-in-chief for the resource library here on the LDSPMA website. You can learn more about her on her website.
