Something interesting that happens as you get older–you start to realize you still listen to the opinion of your parents. I am thirty-five years old. I’ve been married for ten. I have a ten year old daughter–and it still bothers me to hear my mother wouldn’t read my book because my character says “fuck.”
Something you should know–I say fuck, a lot. My husband and I say “shut the fuck up” to each other and it phases neither of us. It is just something we say and usually laugh about it. We flip each other off. It’s what we do.
But, now back to my story about my parents. My mother in particular. She doesn’t like the f-bomb. But, I do. I like it a lot.
So, I wrote my first book. Pride in my accomplishment filled me to the eyeballs. I wanted my mom to read my story. But, she doesn’t read, so it was pushing it for her to even open the book. Then, she got to the word FUCK and that was it. She stopped reading and for a time it was difficult for me to accept that.
But, then I realized, to each their own. I’m kind of glad my mom stopped reading, because you know what, it wasn’t for her. I wrote it for me and for those that get the story or relate to it.
So, yes, that still haunts me and I feel the need to censor myself on social media because of it.
“What if I offend someone with my many fucks?” one voice says.
“Who the fuck cares.” The other voice speaks. The two warring opinions that sit on my shoulders.
“I didn’t write the post for them and I didn’t do it to make them happy.” Is ultimately the voice that wins–the voice sitting atop my head. If it does make them happy, then that is fantastic, because I’m being true to myself. That’s what each of us are to fucking do. (See I said fuck, where I would normally say it in person.)
If you can’t tell by my recent posts on my blog, I’m kind of moving into a new territory for me. I went from the idea of writing a book to now having published 3.5 and am working on 2 more.
I accomplished that and it has filled me with a shit ton of satisfaction in knowing that I did it with the use of me own brain–my own voice.
I am also thirty-five years young and I’m still growing. I’m still learning. We always learn. I’ve learned today that if I like to say FUCK, I’m going to say it. If my characters say it, they will say it.
You see, the writing process isn’t one that is easily censored, in my opinion. Some of my character swear and some do not. Some say god with a capital G some do not. Some say gods. It is just what they say. Some refuse to even say god, God, or gods, because they just don’t.
I suppose I apply to my characters, the same thing I try to apply to my life. People are going to say whatever they fuck they want to say and whether or not it bothers me is hardly taken into account.
So on this Wonderful Wednesday, I encourage each of you to use YOUR voice. If you want to swear–by all means swear. If you don’t want to–by all means, don’t. The point is, you need to silence whatever is in your head that is not YOUR voice.