Have you
ever come up with an idea, moved forward with it—then have it morph into
something completely different? I mean, so different, it doesn't even look like
what you started with.
Yeah? Me,
too. Welcome to my crazy world of writing.
I'm what's
known as a pantser: an idea will pop
into my head, I'll mull it over a bit, then start writing and see what happens.
Do I have a general idea of what's going to happen? Sometimes, in the vaguest
sense around. But I don't "plot", not in the way people think of
"plotting". It doesn't work for me.
Usually
the story will unfold in my mind as I write, taking on a life of its own. And
yes, it's usually guided by the characters. Future scenes become a little
clearer as the story progresses and I'll make a note or two as I go along.
Sometimes there's a scene or two I want to have happen, or some important
tidbit I need to include in the story, and I'll note that before I get to it.
It's my
process, and it works well for me. I may not have a concrete road plan, but I
always have a general idea of where the story is going.
Well,
maybe not always.
That's
kind of what happened with FACE OFF, The Baltimore Banners #10, which released
May 9.
I knew who
the main characters were and I knew what the story was about. I knew where I
wanted the story to go—in that vague sense I always have when I start a story.
And then my
characters revolted. I mean, big time
revolted. Yes, it was still going to be a friends-to-lovers story, a tale of
best friends discovering that there was so much more to their relationship.
Only it
didn't turn out to be quite that simple.
About a
quarter of the way in, my female lead character veered off in a direction I
never saw coming. A direction I tried to fight because I wasn't sure how to
handle it.
And I sure
as hell had no idea how it would be taken.
Turns out,
she was suffering from severe depression. MDD—Major Depressive Disorder—to be
exact. It's estimated that 6.9% of the US population and 350 million people
worldwide suffer from some form of depression.
I admit, it
gave me pause. For more than solid week, I fought the direction she was leading
me in. I didn’t want to deal with it,
to the point of deleting and rewriting, fighting, and even thinking of
scrapping the whole thing and starting over.
Then I had
to ask myself: why? Why was I so set against following my characters' lead,
when I never had that problem before?
It wasn't
just the fear of readers' reactions. No, I think this one was a little closer
to home.
I've had
three episodes of what might be called severe depression: once, after being
involved in a particularly bad accident; post-partum depression after my second
child was born; and again, six or seven years ago. I was fortunate all three
times because I had friends and family—a supportive husband—who noticed it, who
stood by me. More importantly, they made sure I didn't fall deeper into that
black hole of despair and helped me climb out of it.
So yeah. Maybe
this one was a little too close to
home. Once I realized that, I knew I had a choice to make: scrap the project
completely, or let myself fall back into that hole—this time from the
perspective of my heroine.
And I
admit, it was a hard decision to make. I was afraid to revisit that, even though I think what my female lead was
going through was much worse than what I experienced. It took quite a bit of
mentally arguing with myself to sit back down and let my characters tell their
story, but I did.
And I was
scared to death at the end. Scared how readers would react. Scared that I
didn't do the problem justice. Just…scared, period. Hitting submit on Face Off was probably one of
the hardest things I had to do.
And hell,
I'm still scared. So far, the reviews have been overwhelmingly positive. I've
received many emails and messages thanking me for writing the story, all of
them emotional, all of them striking an emotional chord deep inside me. One in
particular makes me cry happy and sad tears just thinking about it.
And yet,
the fear is still there. Maybe it's not really the fear of reactions, but more
the fear of people dismissing the very real pain and trauma of depression and
how it effects everyone, not just the
person fighting it.
Things
have changed in the last ten, twenty, thirty years. How we view depression, how
we treat it, even our understanding of it. But there's still a stigma attached
to it. There are still those who dismiss it as a weakness and who belittle
those suffering from it.
Maybe
that's what the real fear is.
And maybe,
instead of being afraid, I should be angry. Angry at those who refuse to
acknowledge its existence. Angry at those who continue to belittle it and
dismiss it as a weakness.
Depression
isn't a weakness. And it takes more courage, more fight and grit, to deal with
it, to get a handle on it, to claw your way out of that dark pit of despair.
For those
who are fighting the battle, stay strong. And know that you're not alone—we're
here for you. I'm here for you.
And I
understand.
***************
Face Off, The
Baltimore Banners Book 10, released on May 9. You can pick up a copy at your
favorite vendor by clicking here.
Lisa B. Kamps is the author of
the best-selling series The Baltimore
Banners, featuring "hard-hitting, heart-melting hockey players" [USA
Today], on and off the ice. Her Firehouse
Fourteen series features hot and heroic firefighters who put more than
their lives on the line. She's introduced a whole new team of hot hockey
players who play hard and love even harder in her newest hockey series, The York Bombers.
To learn more about Lisa and her titles, please visit her webpage.
Here we are at the end of 2017, and I still don't know how I feel about it. I can point at nothing truly horrific and yet, I look at this year warily. Like a child does when it's not sure if the thing before it is a friend or foe.
2. You are a creature of habit and you don't even know it. Oh, boy was this something I truly fought against. For eleven years, I left my bedroom and turned left, now I'm suddenly turning right. I hadn't driven in over a decade, now I have this vehicle that I'm supposed to park. My earrings can't go in the little tray by the front door, my t-shirts are hung instead of folded, etc. Everything must have a new place. This, of course, escalates your inefficiency, but also it's jarring. Like having to learn how to breathe differently. 
