Writing For Myself: Nonfiction vs. Fiction (2021 Reflections)

At the beginning of 2021, one of my new year’s resolutions was to write more for myself. This took the form of branching out with freelance writing and also just getting back into the swing of writing in general. Work had started to consume most of my time towards the end of 2020, and I wanted to get back to what I used to enjoy: writing.

Growing up, writing fiction was what I enjoyed the most. I didn’t feel brave enough to create my own stories until my early 20s so I wrote fanfiction as a teenager. I enjoyed it. It was an escape from reality and I was able to write about the problems in my life and have my characters try to solve them. It gave me perspective and also an outlet. During this time, I have also kept a journal. The earliest journal I have goes back to 1998 when I was 10, so this was nothing new for me. I have been neglecting the journaling. But this past year, I really started to work on my mental health and journaling was one of the things that were recommended to help with this. But let’s be honest, between work and everything else, writing went on the back burner.

I took two writing classes this year with a local nonprofit. One was in basic fiction writing and the other was in nonfiction creative writing. Outside of a high school creative writing class, I had never taken a creative writing class formerly. It was a new experience.

I learned a lot between the fiction class and creative nonfiction. Sometimes, there was an overlapping of concepts between the two classes. Some of the concepts connected to what I learned with my own English degrees. But in the end, I found myself leaning towards more fiction than nonfiction. The reason why? I don’t like writing about myself or reality. It’s ironic, isn’t it? I don’t like nonfiction because I don’t like dealing with having to think about reality. Maybe it’s my anxiety sprouting up, but what I found was that I preferred writing fiction, the thing that drew me to writing when I was 11 years old.

While I found writing nonfiction and about my life somewhat therapeutic, it was hard. There is still a lot of unresolved issues that I am working through by making an effort to work on my mental health. Writing about those things became painful and time-consuming. It was like pulling teeth whenever I sat down at my iPad to try and write. I just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t so much nonfiction writing but the subject I was pulling inspiration from. I am so uncomfortable in my own skin. How did I expect to write about it then?

With fiction, I found the opposite happening. I was able to create characters and have them wrestle through a similar struggle I found myself mirroring. I was able to revisit worlds I had created years ago. Visiting those original characters was like revisiting an old friend and catching up after not seeing each other for years. I found a lot more enjoyment with the writing I created versus writing about my own life. Maybe it’s due to the influence of my anxiety, but I found a lot more satisfaction writing fiction for myself rather than creative nonfiction.

I’m rethinking my writing resolutions for 2022. I’ve grown as a writer with branching out in freelancing, especially in these past few months. I want to continue to build that momentum but also go back to my roots in writing fiction. Who knows? Maybe I might successfully complete NaNoWriMo in November 2022 or finish one of their mini boot camps in April or July with a new novella.