As a general rule, I don’t use profanity in my day-to-day life. With comprehensive English at my disposal, why bother using the same seven dirty words (and their creative variations) again and again?  It’s not for me. But when I write, I can’t always account for the words that fly out of my characters’ mouths. (I know, you say I can; I say I let the characters come to life in all their fascinating, sometimes flawed and vulgar glory).  It’s not a vicarious thing, honestly. Some of my creations are as verbally chaste as I claim to be; others use cuss words to cut a swath through everyday chit-chat. Whatever brings the character to life, I say.

Early in my writing career, I really struggled with the extent of which I would use swearing in my stuff. People who don’t know me could think I am cavalier in the use of profanity, I thought. People who think they know me will begin to regard me suspiciously (I always used to get: “This writing seems so unlike you.” Or: “For someone who doesn’t curse, you sure seem to not have a problem with it your writing.”). People who really know me usually defer to my judgment, sometimes with their eyebrows raised, but are supportive nevertheless.

A decision had to be made. To swear or not to swear?

While I still understand that some people can’t—won’t—see how I square this duality, I soldier on. Look, I’m either gonna write what I’m lead to write, write what I think people want me to write, or step away from this whole writing thing altogether. Stephen King (an unsolicited mentor, of sorts) suggests in his memoir that as writers we should write as if no one is looking over our shoulders.

And so I do.

Does this make me hypocritical? I think not. After all, despite having never killed and maimed anyone or anything (Do ants, bees, flies, those nasty centipede thingies in the basement and home-invading mice count?), I’ve slaughtered dozens on the page. With dialogue I try to get a real representation of how people talk. It’s not about how I would say it. It’s about how people of a particular lifestyle or environment might talk. And let’s face it, darn near everyone I know uses some level of profanity. I’m not judging, just observing. Many characters in my stories would ring hollow if they spoke, well, like me.

Along with accepting my graying hair and widening waist, I’ve found peace in this struggle. I know this much: I’d have a harder time looking at myself in the mirror if I fashioned a character out of my anticipation of what others would accept of me, rather than of what the characters would expect of me.

Anyway, welcome to the Bloghouse. I hope you drop in from time to time to hang out.