A Writers' POV: Myth Busters

(Featuring mild trauma, dramatic tea spills, and deadlines that laugh in your face)

So, you think writers just sit around in cozy cafes, sipping overpriced lattes and casually typing away while inspiration rains down like confetti? Ha! That’s cute. The truth is, being a writer means making impossible choices—like which beloved character to emotionally destroy, and whether to meet your deadline or just move to a cave and become a cryptid.

Let’s start with character deaths.

There’s this myth that writers enjoy killing off characters. That we sit around cackling like Voldemort in a bubble bath. Listen—do you think J.K. Rowling wanted to emotionally obliterate us with Fred Weasley’s death? Probably not. (Okay, maybe a little. There’s a suspicious glint in her eye during interviews.)

And Rick Riordan? That man has made a career out of dangling characters we adore over the edge of Mount Doom and then saying, “Oopsie, they’re dead!” But we still forgive him because he gives us sass and Greek gods with ADHD. Fair trade.

In reality, killing a character is like choosing which one of your houseplants to throw out the window. You love all of them. Even the moody ones. Especially the moody ones. (Looking at you, Nico di Angelo.)

I once had a character who’d been with me since Chapter Two. Loyal. Witty. Definitely crush-worthy. And I killed him off in Chapter Seventeen. Why? Because the plot demanded it, the stakes needed it, and honestly... I was hungry and cranky that day.

Now let’s talk deadlines. Deadlines are the Dementors of the writing world—swooping in without warning, sucking all joy and sleep from your body, and leaving you curled in a corner muttering, “I should’ve been a tax accountant.”

Most writers live in a delicate dance with their deadlines. We either:

1. Ignore them completely and hope they go away.

2. Make five spreadsheets to “feel productive” without actually writing.

3. Spend 90% of our time doing “research” which includes Googling things like "Can you die of caffeine?" and "How long can a raccoon live in a basement unnoticed?"

When I miss a deadline, I don’t panic immediately. I enter the five stages of Writing Grief:

1. Denial: “It’s only a week late. They’ll understand. It’s called creative freedom.”

2. Anger: “Why did I even agree to this deadline? Who do they think I am—Stephen King??”

3. Bargaining: “What if I write double tomorrow? Or triple? Or invent time travel?”

4. Depression: Googles ‘Can a blanket be considered a career path?’

5. Acceptance: “Alright, let’s write 10,000 words in one sitting. With snacks.”

Writing is magical, chaotic, and slightly traumatic. We cry over characters we created, laugh at our own dialogue, and occasionally look at our draft and wonder if we were possessed while writing Chapter Eight.

But in the end, it’s worth it—because somewhere out there, a reader will gasp, laugh, or yell, “HOW COULD YOU?!” into the void… and that, dear reader, is a writer’s true reward.

Also, if you see my deadline, tell it I’m hiding under my desk. With snacks. And a half-written sequel.