Author interviews, author bios, blog posts about authors – most tell the same story. Author X or Writer Y started writing as soon as they could pick up a pen, or draw pictures to put together a story, or spell. That wasn’t the case for me. I didn’t even consider it until my thirties. My author friends like Amy Lane, Kage Alan, and William Cooper all have degrees in English, Journalism, or Creative Writing. I don’t have a degree in anything. Technically, I’m a senior at Purdue University in their Physics and Chemistry department. I have nothing in my background or my education that says I’m remotely qualified to write books.
For me, it’s not about writing books.
If you’ve read any of my work, especially Aaron (from the Survivor Stories series) or Ethan (from In the Absence of Monsters/The Forbidden Room series), you can probably guess that I was sexually traumatized as a child. It’s not a secret—not anymore. I kept that secret out of fear and shame for a very long time and fucked up my psychological health as a result. I made bad choices in my teenage years. Now, I look back on that time and know it stemmed from a lack of self-worth. Because of that, I got pregnant just as I was graduating high school. Not exactly the best situation for a kid who, because of her exceptional math and science skills, could have done anything or been anything. Instead, I became a failed parent. Five months after she was born, my daughter Kaitlyn succumbed to an unsuccessful heart transplant. All of these events took place before I was even old enough to drink.
So, what does this have to do with writing?
By the time I reached my early twenties, I was a danger to myself. My parents (who are warm, wonderful people that I’m incredibly lucky to have – I wouldn’t have made it without them) got me into therapy. I wasn’t a fan. I think it was in Aaron where I described the shrink finishing a session that went exactly nowhere by going out and throwing his tennis racquet into his BMW and going on his merry way. That really happened. He didn’t care at all if I lived or died, as long as the insurance payment came through. They tried drugs, which I hated, and talk therapy, which I hated more. It all came to a head one night at a beach near where I live when I didn’t want to do it anymore. It was the first time I saw my best friend cry. His tears showed me that I couldn’t keep going in the same circles.
So, I buried it.
I took everything I was feeling, shoved it into a box, and put it on a shelf in the back of my mind. I talk about that box through Aaron and Ethan. It’s real. It’s open now, but it’s real. I faked my way through an interview and got a job on a helpdesk downtown, starting my career in the IT field. I’m lucky in that anything analytical, anything technical, I can teach myself. I’ve always been good with computers and with google—pretty much anyone can fix anything.
The box would rattle from time to time, but for the most part, I existed. I can’t say that I lived because I went to work and I came home. That was it. I don’t make friends easily and the few I had, I never went out with. I watched TV. I read. I kept everything tightly locked in that box. Until one day, I figured out how to open it without destroying myself. I remember it so clearly. I’d been playing around with Twilight Fanfiction; mostly reading what other people were writing, but occasionally dipping in and writing something naughty. I found when I did, people responded to it. I got reviews. I made friends. After a while, I talked to these people, my new friends, every day. It was the first time in my entire life I needed my contacts list in email.
Then, a story came to me. I don’t know why it came in the form of two men. My best friend, the one who cried, was gay, but I think it turned out “slash” because it was a way to distance myself from the story, my story, just a little. The stories—The Forbidden Room and A House of Cards—became my therapy. I reached into that box and picked out pieces of myself to put into Ethan. His questions about his sexuality, his entry into BDSM, and his inability to love are all my questions.
That one project snowballed into the insanity that eventually became JP Barnaby. Each book is my attempt to empty that box. Aaron got my social anxiety. Little Boy Lost’s Brian described the bullying I endured in High School. Painting Fire’s Ben worked through my desperation to find something, anything to make it stop. With the writing came the life I never had, the life I never thought I’d have. It took me until my late thirties to find a way out of my own head, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. I have a smartphone that never stops making noise. I travel. I have friends—most of those friends have boxes of their own.
So, when it comes to being an author, I do consider myself a fraud. I find it fascinating that lots of other authors do as well. But I’ll keep perpetrating that fraud if it continues to help me deal with my psychological damage. I’ll keep writing because there are boys in my head, different facets of myself, who want their stories told so they too can come out of the box and figure out who they want to be.
About JP Barnaby:
Award winning romance novelist, J. P. Barnaby has penned over a dozen books including the Working Boys series, the Little Boy Lost series, In the Absence of Monsters, and Aaron. As a bisexual woman, J.P. is a proud member of the GLBT community both online and in her small town on the outskirts of Chicago. A member of Mensa, she is described as brilliant but troubled, sweet but introverted, and talented but deviant. She spends her days writing software and her nights writing erotica, which is, of course, far more interesting. The spare time that she carves out between her career and her novels is spent reading about the concept of love, which, like some of her characters, she has never quite figured out for herself.
Web site: http://www.JPBarnaby.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/JPBarnaby
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JPBarnaby
What a heartfelt post. Thank you for sharing some of your story with us. You are an inspiration. xx
Thank you so much for sharing yourself with us, both here and through your boys. *hugs* sweets. I know this wasn’t an easy post for you to write. You may not have a literature degree, but you are far from a fraud. Your pure talent shows in every word, every character.
I understand your box because I have a box too. And trust me, if the stories you write help you come out of that box a little at a time, it helps the readers that much more. Every time I read your story, I hurt. But you always give us hope. You and Cody are excellent at that. I will some day write reviews for all your books, but it’s been too personal. But please know that you are helping readers like me who lived in that box begin to live the life they have always wanted. So thank you.
Aaron & Your Little Boy Lost series have stayed with me long after I read them – I live in San Diego and I wanted to go find Jamie and bring him home. 🙂 Thank you for sharing a part of your life with us and for writing such amazing stories. I for one do not think you are a fraud!
What an extremely eloquent post. You are most certainly not a fraud, quite the opposite in fact. You expose yourself in your writing & that is very real. Your boys stay with us long after we read their stories & that’s testamount to you. I hope your writing is carthartic for you, but it touches us all, so thank you for that. Love & hugs, from a fan & a friend xxxx
I haven’t read any of your work as yet, however Anyone who can open their ‘box’ take hold of some of its contents & release it in a form that inspires the responses & comments posted here is no Fraud! Not every Author Writer Poet etc. has a degree. My sister & daughter have their own ‘boxes’ & differing ways of coping. Suffice to say you are all loved & will be supported always. Stay strong.
What an amazing post, JP. Most people with those boxes are not as willing to open them in public, but every story you’ve written helps not only yourself but someone else who has been through trauma. I’m so proud to be one of your friends. <3
Your books are evidence of experience and a talent that cannot be taught. By sharing the pictures and characters you paint through your words you touch countless people. Your creations are beautiful, and so are you.
Your books are evidence of experience and of gifts and talents that cannot be taught. Countless hearts have been touched by the pictures and characters you paint with your words. Your creations are beautiful, and so are you.
Writing from the heart is not the act of a fraudulent person. In many ways, having the strength to plumb the contents of your box and transmute it into healing experiences is the very hallmark of a great writer. The willingness to bleed a little on paper is what makes your characters so very real to the reader–and grants them the ability to heal the lives of others, too.
Fantastic post, JP. And yes, I think all authors sometimes feel like frauds. We distance ourselves, we use our characters as filters, and we tell lies that create real feelings.
Keep writing the stories you need to tell, and I’ll absolutely keep reading them.
No, JP. Just no. 🙁 Degrees do not make you a writer. When you began writing does not make you a writer. Writing makes you a writer. We ALL feel that we’re frauds – it’s part of the creative process. But we all write from different places and because of different catalysts.
*hugs* Thank you for sharing so much of yourself. The only frauds are the writers who write without involving their hearts.
I totally understand your box. I blew the lid off mine, but I still take out of it and dole the pain on my characters. If writing from the heart and using the writing as a therapy is being a fraud then I’m proud to be a fraud right beside you.
You are not a fraud. You are an author who gives us the gift of your incredible talent. Your experiences, as horrible as they are, provide the base for your writing, nothing else. They do not define you. There are people with degrees coming out their ass who would be the first to tell you they can’t write anything they themselves would read.
Thank you so much for sharing your story. We all have boxes that we shoved away, luckily you found a way to deal with yours by writing. A catharsis used to help you come to deal with your emotions. In doing so, without knowing, you have helped others to come to terms with some of their own demons. Best, you are able to bring about these changes by entertaining us with your wonderful stories. I say no, you are not a fraud and no degree would change the messages you share.
When someone asks why I, as a female, read m/m romance I don’t tell them the truth. As a sex abuse survivor it has really helped to normaliz and make positive mens sexuality for me. It helps to see men’s bodies represent something beautiful and sexual, rather than as “weapons”. I think this is something my husband probably appreciates! I haven’t read any of your books yet, but on a personal level I can truly appreciate your honesty and the courage it takes to tell the truth.
Most of us have that box in our heads, each filled with our own horrors and in response insecurities. I am so damn glad that you have found a way to bring yours out and work through them. Not everyone can figure that part out. *hugs*
We all have a box hidden away somewhere. Thank you for your courage to take yours down and share it with us.
Your stories reach people because they’re real, no matter how fictional the men. It takes guts to do that. I respect and admire that willingness to open yourself up through them more than anything.
Thank you guys, so much, for taking the time to come and check out the post, and for your perpetually kind words. I have found the most amazing group of friends, readers, and supporters in this community. It makes each book, and each day, worth the struggle. <3
I liked reading your story Aaron. Very touching and so much emotion. It came across to me that someone couldn’t have expressed all of it without going through some trama themself. Then I came upon this post. I am usually not one to comment on post. But just felt the need to tell you your not a fraud. It couldn’t have been an easy task and thank you for sharing.
I appreciate the post JP. I, too, didn’t start writing until i was 38. I’m almost 41. I had done little things and poetry when I was young but stopped when I went to college. I am also a math/science person and while I do have a degree (Astrophysics, yes, I was a nerd *smile*), I never went past that. Computers have been my thing since I was 9 and I haven’t looked back. There is nothing that helps best than therapy that works for you. If writing is what you need, then go for it. I enjoy your writings and thank you for writing them.
Wow. Simply wow. Your post reflects what so many of us have our hidden boxes for one reason or another, and it most certainly does NOT mean you are a fraud, but rather a human with a gift that reflects such magic in your weaving of words that gives us characters and their stories to love and care about. That is real magic.
My daughter is just now bringing her boxes out of the shadows, and dealing with her OCD, and anxiety that has kept her in the dark for far too long. She like you, is using her newly opened boxes in the music that has haunted her soul for so many years.
I thank you for the stories that make me cry and hope for them, I thank you for being the brave person you are, and sharing your boxes with such creative passion. You simply rock.
~Namaste~