Sometimes, what I write makes me so sad. My current novel includes a character who is homeless. She has made the cemetery her home. Dead people aren't mean and they don't make fun of her. And they don't call her crazy. Here's a paragraph I just wrote to give you an example.
EXCERPT
When she was younger, she had dreams. But she stopped dreaming long ago. They never came true anyway. At least not for her. And she figured when she did dare to dream, she always heard the voices, telling her she was no good, worthless, a whore, scum. And she figured the voices knew better than she did. After all, they made her do things, even when she didn’t want to. They were in control, not her. No, dreams were for other people. Regular people. Not people with demons in their heads.
Does your writing ever make you sad? How do you deal with this? I've tried to explain it to people, but if they aren't writers they don't seem to get it.
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