My Private Whispers and Light Blog

Emberly Gray’s Question About Roots

Emberly Gray’s Question

Yesterday I was tagged by “Amethyst Snow Angel” and that is how I ended up writing this:

“Does your hometown still influence the ‘vibe’ of your writing, or have you left those roots behind to create something entirely new?”
Asked by “Emberly Gray”

I mention my childhood now and again, but the truth is, part of it was painful, and I tend to keep those memories at arm’s length. I did go to my ten year high school reunion, but returning to my hometown isn’t something I choose to do. Still, I don’t think anyone can ever completely leave their roots behind, whether they are good or bad.

My childhood taught me a lot about survival, about prejudice, and about lessons that still find their way into my writing, especially in stories for children. When I describe a fictional place, it often carries echoes of somewhere I once knew, even if I do not name it as such.

This may sound strange, but even though I live in North Carolina now, only about ninety miles from where I grew up, I do not think of my hometown as a happy place. It is not somewhere I would ever choose to live again. So in that sense, yes, I do try to leave those roots behind.

And yet, some things from that time remain priceless. My best friend, the one I met at my sixth birthday party, is still my best friend today. Having her in my life is one of the very best gifts my childhood gave me.

I also find that I write about places I know. For me, a setting feels more real on the page when I carry some personal knowledge of it. And now that I have really thought about this, I realize I have used more of my roots in my stories than I ever noticed before.

My knee jerk reaction was to say, “I left those roots behind.” But now I see that is not entirely true.
—
I posted that as a comment.

Is there a moral to this story? Maybe it is simply this: when I truly stopped to consider it, I realized I had not left those roots behind at all. I still draw from a past I once believed I had escaped. Perhaps none of us ever fully do.

What I understand now is that distancing myself from the painful parts of my history did not erase them. They stayed with me quietly, shaping how I see the world and how I write about it. And maybe that is not a failing, but a truth. The past does not disappear just because we turn away from it. Sometimes it waits patiently until we are ready to understand what it has given us.

The art Roots is Assisted Ai Digital Art