I once saw a tee-shirt that bore a sentiment along the lines of "Be careful or you'll end up in my novel."
If you write fiction how does it make you feel to steal bits and pieces of other people's lives? What would be off-limits?
It never bothered me in the past but I almost completely gave up writing when I got pregnant with my first child (which also, not coincidentally, coincides with the fact that I was writing a story and idly watching the news on the morning of 9/11/01). Now, however, I'm super conscious of the seeds of ideas even when the "product" ends up looking quite different from reality that spawned it.
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For the record, I'm just vaguely attempting to get a fiction-writing discussion going. I feel only the smallest twinge of remorse when I twist around someone's painful life experiences for my own personal fiction-writing pleasure.
If you write fiction how does it make you feel to steal bits and pieces of other people's lives? What would be off-limits?
It never bothered me in the past but I almost completely gave up writing when I got pregnant with my first child (which also, not coincidentally, coincides with the fact that I was writing a story and idly watching the news on the morning of 9/11/01). Now, however, I'm super conscious of the seeds of ideas even when the "product" ends up looking quite different from reality that spawned it.
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For the record, I'm just vaguely attempting to get a fiction-writing discussion going. I feel only the smallest twinge of remorse when I twist around someone's painful life experiences for my own personal fiction-writing pleasure.






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