Back when I was in college studying fine art photography, my teacher, Linda, impressed upon me some important concepts. As the art scene was new to me, I was eager to learn anything and everything I could. I loved that class. To this day, I still use what I learned there in my photography…and in life.
Linda used to tell us to find a concept and “push it.” That is, push it to the limits of what’s expected, what’s comfortable. Go further. And keep on going.
This stuck with me, and I was intrigued by the idea of self-portraiture. Not because I was vain, but because with each new shoot, I learned something new about myself, about art, about the world around me. I was pretty well-known for my self-portraits by the time I’d finished college and regretfully had to get out into the world again.
And after seeing Hunger Games last week, I’m reminded of the same concept. People I’ve talked to either love it or are horrified by the idea of kids having to kill each other. They don’t seem to care about the simulated reality, where the game people are basically gods, or that they’re being watched by the entire country of Panem (future United States). It’s just the kids killing kids thing that gets them.
Granted, I don’t condone violence, nor do I think that’s good. However, within the construct of the story, it works. Why does it work? Well, it’s pretty heart-wrenching, right? Being forced to fight to the death? Possibly making, dare I say, friends, and maybe having to kill them? It’s cutthroat. It’s merciless. But this is what gets my blood pumping. The emotion. The conflict of it. The terrible decisions these poor people have to make in order to survive. And it hits me every single time I think of it.
As I’m sure you realize, I loved Hunger Games — both the book and the movie. Loved it. Will always love it (and you gotta admit Katniss kicks major butt).
And these same people ask, what kind of person thinks this stuff up? Huh? We’re writers. We tell stories. We try to evoke some type of emotion in our readers. If we don’t, then what’s the point of it?
I’m not a big fan of fluff, I’ll admit. Give me something dark, gritty and bloody over sappy-sweet saccarine romance any day of the week. Give me insanity and death over blushes and corsets and high society. Give me something to sink my teeth into, something to change how I see the world.
That’s what it’s all about. Pushing something to its very limits and going beyond. Making people think, feel, dream. Give them something to think about, to ruminate, to wonder about. Hell, give them something to pray about. I don’t care, as long as they’re feeling something.
I have a novel-in-progress called Survivor that has the following elements in it: mental illness, a mother who tries to murder her own daughter, domestic abuse, brainwashing, mind control, violence, mutilation, self-harm, and did I mention mental illness? One writer friend called it a “montage of madness.” Well, you know, when I was planning it (yep, this one was planned) I tried to think of the three most horrible things that could happen to my main character and some of those things became the scaffolding that held this thing together. But as I was writing, I couldn’t stop myself from adding little details and tweaking things for a much darker feel. As you may or may not know, I have a dark mind. I can’t even write sappy love poetry anymore. Any poetry that’s come out of me since…oh, 2000 or so has been dark and sad. I’ve tried since then and it hasn’t happened yet. Anyway, I kept pushing the idea of mental illness and darkness and insanity and came up with this novel. It still needs a lot of work, but I believe it’s one of the best things I’ve ever written.
Would you like to know why? Because it made me feel. It made me think. It gave me something to ponder. It evoked feelings in me that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
(I have to mention the inspiration for it is the Operation: Mindcrime album by the band Queensryche. A band who makes me think. They’re my favorite, hands down).
Sometimes you just gotta feel. And push it further and further until you’re immersed in it. And then take flight beyond the realms of your imagination.