My first novel is based upon true events of my life and invariably I'm asked certain questions about what was real and what was fiction but the best question ever was:
Did your wife really blow up?
Which I'm waiting to say this again "Only in my best day dreams."
You may think, since you haven't read the book, why in the world would anyone think that he blew up his wife. Well first my writing about her was maybe a little on the angry side but it portrayed the essence of what I wanted people to believe and that she was the bitch from hell. Which in my mind she was, but I didn't blow her up.
Fiction is a wonderful thing and I can tell you from experience that it was after I wrote the book and that its cathartic mechanism flowed from my brain to the paper that the real healing started. I could put it away and let it go and there was a sense of freedom that I hadn't felt in years. It was wonderful and even more important, it still is.
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