The Emotions Behind the Facades

As many of you probably know, I had a stroke nearly twelve years ago. A blood clot traveled to my brain. Fortunately, I left the hospital, after two days, with no physical impairments. Since then, my doctor has had me taking an adult-strength aspirin every day. It’s kept my blood from clotting, but it’s also left me prone to bleeding and bruising under the skin if I bump into something or scrape against something. Contributing to the situation is the fact that our skin thins as we age. As my doctor recently said to me, “You’re not an old man, but you’re not a young man either.” Gee, thanks. At age 68, I don’t consider myself old, but from time to time these discolorations on my hands or arms tell me differently.

Which has me thinking of how thin-skinned—metaphorically that is—we all can be no matter our age. We all have those sore spots, the old memories or insecurities or sensitivities that can bring out an emotional response. It’s often our inclination to avoid those responses in our writing, but really we should be pushing toward them. We all have facades that we construct to protect ourselves from revealing too much, but those revelations are what writing is all about. Whether we’re writing fiction or creative nonfiction, we find those pressures that cause the facades to crumble, and to show, if only temporarily, a truer version of our characters or ourselves.

Let’s begin, then, with an inventory. Make a list of memories that make you uncomfortable, memories that evoke an emotional response. Add your shortcomings to the list, flaws that you don’t want anyone else to notice. Finally, add everything that you fear. If you’re writing fiction, choose something from your list and give it to your main character. Then construct a narrative that makes it impossible for that character to keep a painful memory, or a flaw, or a fear hidden. If you’re writing creative nonfiction, see if you can remember a time in your life when it was impossible for you to do the same. You might also write honestly about why you have a certain fear, or why a specific memory causes you to feel emotional, or what you think a flaw says about you.

No matter which route you take, the important thing is to let your emotions rise organically from the specific details of what you try to ignore or hide from the world.

6 Comments

  1. Virginia Chase Sutton on July 15, 2024 at 2:53 pm

    Wonderful post, Lee . I am 68 and feel better than ever and I hope that lasts. I have a complicated medical menu and that is a pain. But I do know I also have many fears and flaws. This post was intense. Thank you!

    • Lee Martin on July 17, 2024 at 11:20 am

      Wishing you all the best, Virginia!

  2. Chelsea Covington Maass on July 17, 2024 at 10:35 am

    Oof, this is a tough exercise. But I am sitting down to do it this morning. I can definitely see how giving some of this to my protagonist might make her more relatable, more human, to readers. Thank you, as always, for this practice, Lee!

    • Lee Martin on July 17, 2024 at 11:19 am

      Chelsea, it’ always tough to take a hard look at ourselves, but it should pay off in exactly the way you describe. Let me know how it goes!

  3. Clayton Cormany on July 20, 2024 at 7:20 am

    As a little league baseball player, I once struck out when (I thought) my team was counting on me to come through. I broke down in tears and got ridiculed for it. The pain and embarrassment can still haunt me over 60 years later. A similar situation figured into my first YA novel about a high school boy who coaches a girls’ softball team.

    • Lee Martin on July 20, 2024 at 11:21 am

      Thanks for sharing this story, Clay. That’s exactly the kind of moment I’m talking about. I’m glad to see you were able to use it in your fiction.

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