So I’ve been having fun with depression lately. It’s one of those things that a lot of writers seem to struggle with, and I think there’s a reason.
When you have depression, you start recognizing that here is not a good place to be. It doesn’t matter if your perceptions are off or entirely accurate. It doesn’t matter if here is your own skin or your own century. As soon as here isn’t good, you start longing for there.
And that longing seeps out in words and phrases and paragraphs and… stories.
There’s this yearning for something different. And it doesn’t matter if what ink leaks onto the page paints a picture of despair or joy; it reveals that the writer wants to escape here for someplace else. It’s not that depression creates writers; it’s that depression creates this desire to be elsewhere, and that desire must flower in some way. Continue reading “Depression Leads to New Worlds”