Writing About Death

Many people, maybe even most people, are afraid to talk about death. It's as if they're worried that speaking about death will make the Grim Reaper appear at their doorstep.

Instead of accepting death as an eventuality that can sometimes be delayed, they avoid going to the doctor to check on abnormal aches and pains until they're critically ill. Those with family histories of heart attacks or cancer avoid getting tests done that would detect issues early. Instead, they have "widowmaker" heart attacks while playing basketball or find themselves needing aggressive cancer treatments that leave them too ill to enjoy life. They don't get life insurance beyond what their job offers and they won't write wills.

The people in their lives are left to pick up the pieces after they're gone. They question whether they could have done more to make their missing loved one go to the doctor earlier. They struggle to pay for funeral expenses because they don't have the funds to drop 7-15K on everything one requires. They go through long probate processes because there is no legal documentation to smooth the transfer of assets.

When our friends, or family, experience a loss, people also struggle with what to say. Then, when they can't find the right words, they opt for the trite. We've all heard "they had a good life," or "at least they're no longer suffering," and the ever popular "they're in a better place." Or they're afraid to say the wrong thing so they say nothing at all.

But death is a part of life. And, as writers, that fact is always hanging in the background of our stories. It's the end result of the killer clowns chasing everyone (but our lucky protagonist) down dark and haunted asylum hallways. Death is the catalyst for an amateur sleuth to go semi-professional and earn the ire of the local police. At the end of every romance, death is waiting for the couple to grow old together.

How do we write about death if we're afraid to talk about it in our everyday life?

In that way, I'm lucky. My day job makes me talk to people about death on a weekly, and sometimes daily, basis. I've seen reactions that run the gamut from devastation, anger, numb disbelief, and stoic acceptance. I've spoken to people who welcomed the death because it meant less pain for the deceased. I've spoken to people who expected the deceased to live forever.

When we're writing about death, we need to remember that no two people mourn a loss the same way. You can even find two individuals who take the news of a death differently in the same household. One might accept that it was the deceased's time to go while the other believes that the death was avoidable.

We owe it to our readers to treat each death in our works with the respect, or disrespect, that the characters death has earned. Who among us has not silently cheered when the evil villain was dissolved in a vat of acid in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" Who among us didn't cry when Bambi's mom died?

We owe it to ourselves to explore the diverse ways those left behind will feel about the deaths. To think long and hard about their relationship, or lack thereof, to the decedent. To look at their reactions to other events in the story that might inform how they handle the death. To look at what we've written and decide to throw a curveball instead and have the person who most hated the decedent become the most devastated by the loss and examine why.

Embrace the idea of death. Let it soak into the backstory, or foreground, of your stories and see where the journey near the River Styx takes you.

The shadow of death hangs over every moment of our lives. The only true constant in life is that we're all marching to meet the Grim Reaper. And being brave enough to acknowledge that reality can only make create more authentic stories.