How to Use Creativity to Thrive with Mental Illness

The first novel-length work I wrote was inspired by Twilight. I’m not ashamed to say it. I was fourteen and in love with werewolves. I’d devoured all three of the series in one sitting on my couch during a particularly muggy August, crying my eyes out at the first flush of fictional love and heartbreak. Reading those books inspired me to write my own — a darker version, but the werewolf still had eyes that changed colors and rode a motorcycle. The protagonist, Faye, had been thrown into a mental institution after a near-death accident left her ranting and raving about how he’d saved her. But of course, like in all stupid love stories, he broke her out and whisked her away on his motorcycle.

One day when I was fifteen, I absolutely freaked out. I have no idea what the cause was (although I suspect it had something to do with my father) and it sent me into a panic attack and a subsequent episode where I ripped up the entirety of the werewolf novel, which had been written in one single composition notebook. I also got into a tepid bath with my clothes on. There was no reasoning there — I just lost control.

I regret that I ripped it up to this day. That was my first real attempt at a book, my first foray into the world of novel-writing. Crafting that book had been a labor of intense focus and creative fervor, one that I’ve felt many…