He Made You Perfect - Backstory and Thank You
I've mentioned before that He Made You Perfect is based in part on real things that happened to me when I was a wee teen and led directly to Losing my Religion.
But it was more than religion, I lost everything that year. My world slipped out from under my feet leaving me barely treading water.
Like Kurt, I lost a parent (not through death, but in other ways), and I lost my home. Rather than finding my salvation in love, I had my heart broken for the first time. Rather than standing up to the bullies and telling them exactly what I thought of them, I backed down and bit back my feelings, even becoming a tiny bit complicit in their ugliness. As you tend to do in real life when you're an insecure teenager and vulnerable and all alone. It all came to a head during that desperate week, leaving a blotch in my memory that I've avoided thinking about or talking about for years.
When I started writing the story, it was as simple as “oh, I've been to Jesus camp, I can write them at Jesus camp and get some of the details right.” I had no plans to draw so many parallels to my own experiences, to pour so much of myself into it, but the farther I went the more it happened and it got to be so damned fulfilling. The scared fourteen-year-old and the angry twentysomething who would never forgive herself for the way that she reacted have finally made peace. At least over that week in my life, if not for the other 1,400 or so.
I know, I know, news flash: writing can be fulfilling and help you express your emotions. But I never wrote for pleasure or saved anything I wrote until... April or May-ish, which is when I wrote a porny little Klaine reaction fic to “The First Time” that I'd do entirely differently if I were to do it over again, and then launched into He Made You Perfect because the idea just wouldn't go away. So, you see, this is all a brand new revelation to me, and I hope you'll forgive me for being a little maudlin.
The fact that anyone bothers to read it still astounds me. The feedback I've had from readers means so much, especially the stuff that led directly to changes in the story. The biggest change was that people were clamoring for Kurt to stand up more and more to the bullies and give them verbal beat-downs at every opportunity, so I went back and put in all kinds of things I wished I could've said, which dovetails nicely with the way I never could even begin to do that when I was living it. Most treasured, though, are the comments from readers for whom the story really, truly resonates, and I know it wouldn't be that way if I didn't pour so much of myself into it. So, if you fall into those categories, or if you've sent in comments and reviews along the way to encourage me, or even if you've just been reading silently this whole time, thanks. Because you all are part of this experience that has meant so much to me.
The place in my mind occupied by that week used to be a place I avoided, coated in bitterness and regret, pain and embarrassment. Not anymore. I can reflect upon one of the darkest times in my life with zero pain, zero bitterness. It's awesome... in fact, it makes me want to write stories about all of my issues. I hope you all keep reading and participating in my bizarre answer to group therapy.
- leftrightbrain
But it was more than religion, I lost everything that year. My world slipped out from under my feet leaving me barely treading water.
Like Kurt, I lost a parent (not through death, but in other ways), and I lost my home. Rather than finding my salvation in love, I had my heart broken for the first time. Rather than standing up to the bullies and telling them exactly what I thought of them, I backed down and bit back my feelings, even becoming a tiny bit complicit in their ugliness. As you tend to do in real life when you're an insecure teenager and vulnerable and all alone. It all came to a head during that desperate week, leaving a blotch in my memory that I've avoided thinking about or talking about for years.
When I started writing the story, it was as simple as “oh, I've been to Jesus camp, I can write them at Jesus camp and get some of the details right.” I had no plans to draw so many parallels to my own experiences, to pour so much of myself into it, but the farther I went the more it happened and it got to be so damned fulfilling. The scared fourteen-year-old and the angry twentysomething who would never forgive herself for the way that she reacted have finally made peace. At least over that week in my life, if not for the other 1,400 or so.
I know, I know, news flash: writing can be fulfilling and help you express your emotions. But I never wrote for pleasure or saved anything I wrote until... April or May-ish, which is when I wrote a porny little Klaine reaction fic to “The First Time” that I'd do entirely differently if I were to do it over again, and then launched into He Made You Perfect because the idea just wouldn't go away. So, you see, this is all a brand new revelation to me, and I hope you'll forgive me for being a little maudlin.
The fact that anyone bothers to read it still astounds me. The feedback I've had from readers means so much, especially the stuff that led directly to changes in the story. The biggest change was that people were clamoring for Kurt to stand up more and more to the bullies and give them verbal beat-downs at every opportunity, so I went back and put in all kinds of things I wished I could've said, which dovetails nicely with the way I never could even begin to do that when I was living it. Most treasured, though, are the comments from readers for whom the story really, truly resonates, and I know it wouldn't be that way if I didn't pour so much of myself into it. So, if you fall into those categories, or if you've sent in comments and reviews along the way to encourage me, or even if you've just been reading silently this whole time, thanks. Because you all are part of this experience that has meant so much to me.
The place in my mind occupied by that week used to be a place I avoided, coated in bitterness and regret, pain and embarrassment. Not anymore. I can reflect upon one of the darkest times in my life with zero pain, zero bitterness. It's awesome... in fact, it makes me want to write stories about all of my issues. I hope you all keep reading and participating in my bizarre answer to group therapy.
- leftrightbrain