The romanticization of pain is one of the greatest falsities to worm its way into storytelling.
There is supposed heroism in a man who suffers for a good cause and stays strong — he is the hero because he perseveres through the hurt, through every hardship and trial. He may lose hope at times but in the end it is the valiant hero who overcomes doubt.
But that’s not life. Pain isn’t like that, with a neat beginning and end.
Let’s be honest. Prolonged suffering is a bitch. And if you’ve ever actually experienced it, whether personally or traveling that path with a loved one, you’ll know what I mean. Freytag’s pyramid can’t accurately represent that.
In a story, the pain has a beginning, a few climactic points leading up to the largest climax, and then is resolved in one way or another.
In life, the pain can throb on and on, with few climactic points and no resolution. Every day is hard and the next one could be even harder. Or not. Its the long, long path of uncertainty.
That’s why I don’t write stories with true resolutions. It might make the reader feel good. Maybe it would make me feel good. But that’s not the point of my writing. I’m looking for the truth, for pieces of the world that others rarely address.
And in my experience, life rarely has resolutions.