"Write What You Know"

People say do it. People say don't do it. Mostly I ignore both of them and write somewhere in between (usually set in dystopias or sci-fi universes, because that gives me a little more leeway, in case I don't get police procedure or bureaucratic disputes exactly right).

But for the first time, in my new WIP, the percentage of elements in the narrative that I don't know outweighs what I do. It's set somewhere I've been, but haven't lived. It involves folklore I haven't grown up listening to. The main character has a disorder that I'm not familiar with from first-person experience. It's going to take a lot of research to write this accurately.

Don't get me wrong, I do research for all of my novels, but this one's going to take more hard-core digging than usual. I'll need to spend time in the library, interview people who have experienced these things, and triple-check my sources on the mythology I'm using.

So what makes me think I can write this book? What gives me the right to tell this story, when it's not personally connect to my life in, well, any form?

I do know the characters' emotions. While I haven't experienced what I'm going to put them through in this book, I've experienced the type of problems they'll face. Self-doubt. Alienation. Confusion. Betrayal. Sorrow. Regret.

That's what makes stories universal. Because underneath all the books and fairy tales and T.V. shows and movies about specific stuff we don't know -- like how forensic anthropologists help solve murders or what astrophysicists do for fun on the weekends -- there's an emotional story we've all experienced first-hand.

So here's to not knowing what the hell I'm getting myself into with this next project, and here's to knowing I'll enjoy the ride!

P.S. -- but if you do something awesome for a living like use your eidetic memory to catch criminals, or if you grew up in a Buddhist monastery, then you should write about what you know. Just saying. Cause I'd read it.