Never Fluffy Fanfic
Sep. 3rd, 2012 10:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
butterflydreamingI didn't want to skip the opportunity to write, but I didn't want to write anything serious, so I dug out the drafted chapter of an unfinished fanfic ("Take Comfort"). As it turns out, I had quite a bit of usable material written. I moved things into new combinations and filled out the segues. Now I have half a chapter (about 3K words).
But fluffy, it is not. I had managed to forget how much this story is about grieving and how much this section, specifically. I particularly liked the idea of "five stages of joy" that one character considers.
A decade ago, after becoming a widower, Fujita went to a grief counselor who told him about the importance of acceptance. The counselor presented grief as a marathon, the stages of anger and denial and bargaining as other runners in competition with you. Acceptance was the finish line ribbon. You burst through the ribbon and you continued running.
Fujitaka knew that it wasn’t a race, and there was no finish line; acceptance was continuing to slowly put one foot in front of the other without stopping so long that you forgot your direction. Of course he would look back at times. Looking back didn't stop him from moving forward.
If there were five stages for grief, he wondered, what were the five stages for joy? Surprise would be one. Denial, too, just as with grief: fear that it wasn’t real or wasn’t deserved. Then a euphoria where everything made you want to laugh. Gratitude. Comfort.
But fluffy, it is not. I had managed to forget how much this story is about grieving and how much this section, specifically. I particularly liked the idea of "five stages of joy" that one character considers.
A decade ago, after becoming a widower, Fujita went to a grief counselor who told him about the importance of acceptance. The counselor presented grief as a marathon, the stages of anger and denial and bargaining as other runners in competition with you. Acceptance was the finish line ribbon. You burst through the ribbon and you continued running.
Fujitaka knew that it wasn’t a race, and there was no finish line; acceptance was continuing to slowly put one foot in front of the other without stopping so long that you forgot your direction. Of course he would look back at times. Looking back didn't stop him from moving forward.
If there were five stages for grief, he wondered, what were the five stages for joy? Surprise would be one. Denial, too, just as with grief: fear that it wasn’t real or wasn’t deserved. Then a euphoria where everything made you want to laugh. Gratitude. Comfort.