A Year of Writing Fiction to Heal
What I've learned in the year since publishing Forged in Fire: Writing Fiction to Heal
One year.
Of all the books I’ve published, Forged in Fire: Writing Fiction to Heal is the one I feel most proud of. Not that my other books aren’t good, (I mean, I’m biased, but I think they’re pretty good) it’s more that this book was the culmination of a lot of years working toward it. Between using the method myself and then teaching and refining it for my students, clients, and other writers — I’ve spent more time and years on this subject than anything else. And I’m so proud of that.
Today marks the first anniversary of its publication and while I’ve never “celebrated” any of my other book’s publiversary, this one feels… necessary.
Perhaps it’s because once my fiction is out in the world, I move on to the next one and the next one. But with Forged in Fire, I’ve not only continued to use the book in teaching and coaching work, but I’m actively using the method for my own fiction.
If anything, I’ve doubled down on its importance.
What is surprising (and not) is that the essence of what this book is about has not wavered at all. In the introduction, I say:
“I wrote this book for you. I wrote it for me. I wrote it for us.
Because we all have a story. And the world needs more stories like ours.
I want to write this book because writing fiction to heal saved my life, and if there’s even the slightest chance that it can help save someone else’s, I want it to exist and be a resource for them.”
And this is more true now than ever before as I’ve witnessed the book fall into the hands of so many people who needed it. As writers, I think most of us (your mileage may vary) want to write a book that impacts our readers. A book that serves as a lifeline for them in the way it served us.
Forged in Fire is that book for me.
I’ve spent many a night shedding happy tears as I read emails from people who have read the book and started writing their stories because of it.
But I’m not emotional about the book… I’m emotional about the strength of the people who are using it.
Lessons Learned
As I was reflecting on what the past year has brought me with this book, I realized that it’s hard AF to put into words what this book has done for me and others. But I’m a writer… so I will try anyway.
Knowledge Blind Spots
I’m constantly taken aback by what I learn from my students and clients. During the last Writing Fiction to Heal workshop, I had a student completely surprise me with her thoughts about the introduction and the first few chapters of the book. She explained that recognizing her trauma was still fresh for her and the fact that I wrote so candidly about my experience was a bit triggering for her.
That honestly stopped me in my tracks. What I realized through talking with her and others in that workshop was that I have to remember where I started, how far I’ve come, and the privilege I’ve had of talking about my trauma.
In case you’re unaware or haven’t read the book, a little backstory.
I came forward about my childhood sexual abuse in middle school and I was very fortunate that I had the following things happen:
My mom believed me and took action immediately
Criminal charges were brought against my abuser (though, this is a simplification and not a “happy ever after” — if you’ve read the book, you know)
I was put into therapy
Those three things can be crucial in the development of navigating trauma. I was very blessed that those three things were given to me and helped me heal at a much faster rate than some of my friends who also experienced this trauma but did not have the luxury of one or even any of the above aspects.
All of this is to say that the writing in Forged in Fire comes after years and years of actively working, talking, writing about, and navigating my trauma. This student didn’t have that same luxury.
This was a big lesson for me to learn because, in the aftermath of learning it, I realized that I had neglected to consider those who may not even be at the point where they can turn to fiction as a healing modality.
It shaped my decisions on moving forward with the workshop, working 1-1 with clients, and even this Substack (more on this to come in the following weeks).
Emotions Are Hard
My 1-1 clients will undoubtedly grin and nod their heads when I say that I’m forever asking them to go deeper. Dig further.
My favorite line of edits will always be: “Give us more here!”
The truth is — emotions are so fucking hard. They’re hard to deal with as human beings, so of course they’re going to be hard to deal with in writing.
In my opinion, emotions are even harder to wrangle when writing fiction. While the distance and buffer of fiction helps us access the emotions easier than say memoirs or personal essays, it’s harder to put it on the page in a way that feels realistic to the characters and story as well as honoring our emotions as the writer.
This lovelies, is the work of writing fiction to heal.
It’s not easy.
That’s why I’m in awe of my students and clients who show up to the page and do it anyway.
It’s a special kind of magic when a writer has that breakthrough moment of realizing:
Holy shit. I just did it. I managed to tap into my emotions and put them on the page in a way that honors myself and serves my character and story.
Persephone as a Role Model
One of the biggest motivations for writing Until They Burn (my first intentional writing fiction to heal novel) was fear.
I was scared shitless. Of myself. Of what I was capable of.
But mostly I was scared of the shadow and dark sides of myself.
Writing has always been the way I make sense of things — myself included. But it wasn’t until I started taking classes around myths and fairytales that something clicked into place for me.
Myths and fairytales (the ones not “Disney-ified”) are all about the darknesses we face. They do not shy away from the ugly and beautiful truths. They are enduring because we can all find ourselves inside of one.
In particular, I relate to Persephone’s story of being yanked from her life and dragged into hell, unwillingly. But I also deeply relate to her ability to turn the underworld into something she navigates.
I realized that as Persephone transitions between the underworld and the earth, representing a bridge between darkness and light, I help writers navigate their inner depths—traumas and shadow traits—to bring forth personal growth and healing.
In this sense, I try to act as a guide, helping individuals explore and understand their underworlds (their subconscious and darker aspects) and use that exploration to foster creativity and healing through their writing.
I’ve accepted that my role, calling, in life involves facilitating a transformational journey for my students and clients, much like Persephone's cyclical journey, enabling them to integrate and express their experiences.
I don’t take this calling for granted, either.
WF2H is a mind-blowing concept. As I learn how it works, I can't help but see it in so much good writing. Jade has turned an under-appreciated and natural instinct into a method to help you build a story that will change your life. And she does it with expert guidance, the care of a fond grandmother, and the patience of a guru. Whether you're taking her course, receiving coaching, or reading her stories, you can't help but notice that she really knows what she's talking about and also has the skills to apply that knowledge. Thank goodness she can also teach anyone ready to face their feelings.
— Lesley Dobis, Writing Fiction to Heal student and client
What Now?
A year ago, I hadn’t a clue where I’d end up after publishing Forged in Fire. I knew that I wanted to continue working with the method with students, clients, and even in my fiction, but I wasn’t sure what else was possible.
This book has been donated to domestic abuse shelters, inpatient psychology wards, compassion fatigue and childhood sexual abuse support groups.
And yet — I don’t think it’s reached nearly enough people. I don’t think I’ll truly be satisfied until this book is in the hands of the people who need to tell the stories that are locked up tight in their hearts or souls.
I realize though, that I’m only one person. I can only do so much. This is why I’m so grateful to those who have purchased, read, wrote about, shared, and gifted this book. Every time someone has an opportunity to unlock their potential, they become a bit more empowered. And if you didn’t know, one of my all-time favorite quotes is:
“Empowered people, empower people.”
What would/could it look like if we empowered more people to tell their stories? What would it feel like if we could recognize the trauma and work someone has endured to get to the other side of healing?
What healing could be possible if we allowed each other to speak the truths of our wounds, hurts, and more without judgment?
That’s the kind of world I want to live in and so I will continue to do the work I must do to bring it about.
And maybe, just maybe, my little old book will help others do the same.
Here’s to another year of writing fiction to heal. ❤️
P.S. I emptied my essay vault and brought over all my “Writing Fiction to Heal” posts. Some are already published and a few more are on the way. If you are looking for more information on Writing Fiction to Heal, check it out now.