When Writing Rewrites The Author

I’ve written about how spirituality drives my fiction, but something unusual happened to me last week. While doing research on my new visionary fiction story, On The Farm, I was so affected by what I read that I gave up eating eggs. The point of my blog isn’t about the compassion behind vegetarianism, even though that’s my personally held view, but rather about how, as writers, what we write can also influence our own behavior. I’m discovering it’s not only my spirituality that filters into my storytelling, but my storytelling filters into my spirituality and makes me alter my behavior.  Writing pulls out the weeds that cover my spirit.

We Are What We Write

If we can positively influence people by our writing, it stands to reason that all the negative things we write can influence equally as well.  It’s important to explain here that my writing changed my behavior—not out of guilt, but rather from unveiling a little more of my inner-awareness that’s hidden by layers of conditionings draped over me since childhood. All the ethical questions I’ve been forced to answer during the plotting stage led to my unveiling. To be true to the story, I had to step beyond my comfort zone. As I began outlining and digging deeper into one of the characters, I sympathized with her plight.  I didn’t know to what degree until I later went to prepare a quiche for my daughters. I  removed some eggs from the carton and something felt off. I didn’t feel right holding them. I told my daughters I would no longer eat eggs again unless I found a local farm where I could see how the hens are being treated. They asked me more questions, and I told them my research experience—minus the graphic details—and they decided to stop eating eggs as well. I told them they didn’t have to give them up because I did, but they insisted.

I don’t want my children to follow my example because they think that’s what I want. As a parent, I know I’m a role model; however, I’m teaching my children to develop value systems from within themselves. Through my own personal experience, I’ve come to learn internalization is the key to inner-growth, not copying. Inside us is our inner-guide and when the right moment comes, a new bit of self-awareness is pulled out.  For me, a blog post I had read at a  great Taoist site a few years ago led to my vegetarianism. Derek Lin never came off as preachy or condescending , and  I personally appreciated his reference to Hitchiker’s Guide To The Universe.  Even after I read the article, I didn’t internalize the content until a few months later while passing a farm on a road trip. Time will tell what motivated my daughters. They both joined me and have been lacto-ovo vegetarians for a year, and they haven’t even once asked me to go to a McDonalds.

An Allegorical Tale

The best method to tell a story without coming off as preachy is to use allegory in storytelling. George Orwell’s, Animal Farm is a prime example of allegory. I’ll also be using animals for my next project—but not in a political context. My husband pitched me the idea, and I loved it enough to begin plotting. I’d like to begin writing it in August; however, I’m finding that piecing this story together is quite challenging.  I’ve got the beginning, and the ending came to me last night. I was stuck on the mid-point, and it came to me after I began the first draft of this blog. As with many of my other breakthroughs, it happened while I was working out at the gym.

Power to influence…without the preaching.

If my story organically could change my own behavior, I wonder what kind of an effect it will have on the reader. Will the characters from this story affect people as strongly as they’re affecting me? It will be interesting to see. I don’t preach vegetarianism or any other isms in my stories, although a character may become engaged in or attached to one form or another. After all, it’s our attachment to places, things and ideals that create conflict, including vegetarianism. I’ve read about a few instances where vegetarians splashed paint on fur coats…while people were wearing them. When we attach labels to our own behavior, we must be mindful not to identify with it so strongly that we lose our ability to think critically and act rationally. By the time I type the words, the end, the ism is replaced by whatever inner-lesson the character had to learn. To me, that makes a more positive and satisfying read.

Love and light,

Eleni