I recently found inspiration for a short story after attending a funeral. I know that, as a writer, I can’t control where inspiration comes from. Still, it feels weird to me. Sort of like I’m benefiting from someone else’s loss.
Death is a regular topic in fiction, something writers have been exploring for thousands of years. It’s the great unknown, and loss and grief are things we all share regardless of culture, spiritual belief, race, or gender.
The funeral home was packed. The main room and overflow room were both packed, so my partner and I were relegated to the hallway with a few dozen others. Luckily, the facility had speakers embedded in the ceilings so we could all listen in.
As I stood there in the hallway holding hands with my partner, I took the opportunity to watch the other mourners and their reactions to the eulogies. I saw the looks they gave one another, the changes in body language, and saw what words and phrases triggered tears or smiles. It was fascinating to take it all in. And before you wonder why I wasn’t mourning – I didn’t really know the deceased. Only met them once, but I knew their spouse and was there to support them.
I’ve written about death before. I have a couple of short stories that deal with it in my collection, Reflections in Blue Water. Each was inspired by a real-life death. I think I’m interested in how the survivors, the mourners, deal with loss. Everyone handles it differently. Some break down and fall to pieces. Others hold it all in. There’s denial, anger, blame, guilt. For a writer, it’s a learning experience and can be used to build characters.
This new story is from the point of view of a husband who recently lost his wife. Nothing traumatic. It’s a quiet passing and how he copes with it. Obviously, this isn’t a new idea for a story. It’s been done thousands of times over the decades. But as I like to say, every story that can be told has been told. The job of the writer is to tell them in new and interesting ways.
So I’m trying something new and I’m looking forward to writing this piece. Of course, I still have that nagging bit of guilt in the back of my mind, but hopefully writing this story will put this experience to good use. And maybe when the story is finished and published, it might help someone to cope with their own loss.
RB
The only death-inspired writing I’ve ever done was to compose eulogies that I delivered at funerals. They were for my step-mother, brother, father, and best friend. In them, I tried to highlight one or two major aspects of their lives. What was surprising was that I had to resist the temptation to embellish their stories.
I think that’s only natural, Swabby. I haven’t written a eulogy and I’m not sure if I could (depends on who I’d be writing it for).