breena said:
Now that I'm a mom I couldn't write about deviant demon Damian types or anything really sexually explicit.Any of you have a line you won't cross?
You said that being a Mom has stopped you from writing about Damian types or anything really sexually explicit. Strangely enough, being a Mom has had a quite different effect on me as far as my writing goes.
Perhaps it has something to do with how we approach horror in the first place? I feel that horror is, was, and always will be a way to express the wrongs and evils in the world in the rawest, barest, most f*cked up way possible while still telling a compelling and entertaining story.
As a mother I'm more frightened by the world now then I was before. It's not something I let rule my life, but there it is. Every time my kids are late home from school; whenever I let them use a public bathroom alone; whenever, in fact, they are out of my sight; I feel afraid for them.
It's simultaneously illogical and valid at the same time. The world is a damn scary place, one that I, as a Mother must protect my children from. And whatever those fears are, however they manifest in my mind end up on the page.
However, in the process of writing these stories when I compare them pre-motherhood and post-motherhood I've noticed that I'm not just a better writer as is the natural process of practice and time but bolder, more daring, more courageous in what I have to say and how I have to say it. I cut less corners and leave no stone unturned in what the story has to say.
That being said, I have yet to write on sexually explicit topics, but that doesn't have to do with any personal taboos. It has more to do with the fact whether the scene is one that's supposed to be titillating or violent in that area, I just suck at 'em. A good writer knows her weaknesses. A great one has learned how to conquer them. I guess I'm only a good writer, but for now, that's good enough for me.
The evil child theme aka Damian? Yeah, but that stems more from what I feel are "bad Mommy" days. Y'know, those days when you can't possibly feel like a more horrid Mom if you tried and start to worry if your kids will grow up to become serial killers because of that day? And then you start to wonder if serial killers are born and not made, just for a fleeting second, but long enough to come up with a story idea?
Or what about those days when your kid has a bad day and you can't figure out why? Oh, I'm not talking about days when they're crying and throwing fits, I'm talking about when they just do things they know are wrong and the only reason they can give you is "I don't know"? And you think "Who in the world is this child?" and "Where in the world did my precious darling go?" Logic argues that this is only human nature, but our creative minds can go nuts can't they?
