Lara D. Elliott - Inspirations

I'm in debate with a friend over whether it is therapeutic to write depressing fiction when one is depressed. Said friend had been writing a novel when she was depressed. The novel was going to end with the character's suicide. Friend has since gotten past the dark times and has abandoned the book. If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you may already know that I've been dealing with depression for the past year. I'm to the point where I'm considering going to the doctor about it. I've had a couple of tests for things that could be related to depression, but they have come back negative. Anyhoo, in the meantime I've taken to writing to deal with it. I've written blog posts, poetry, flash fiction, tweets. But just recently, I've started a novel. The novel reminded me of my friend's so I told her about it. She said stop. It's dangerous. But here's the thing. My novel doesn't end in suicide. My novel has a happy ending. M

As Lee is bartending at the club on the chilly last night of winter, he glances in the mirror over the liquor cabinet and sees behind him a beautiful girl with jet black hair and bright red lipstick which pops in contrast to her white off-the-shoulder sweater. She seems to be part of a whole group of girls, eight in all, but luckily she is not the one wearing the “bride-to-be” sash. She’s taller than the rest, a bit quieter, and absolutely the most beautiful. She’s consoling the one with the grumpy face, probably upset that she’s not the one getting married. Lee serves drinks, but keeps his eye on the girl in white. She makes her way around to everyone in the entourage, laughs with the one who has a toothy smile, rolls her eyes at the blonde with the dopey look in her eyes, dances with the one he recognizes as a nurse from his doctor’s office. She introduces the shy one to a guy, offers a tissue to the one with allergies, and steals keys from the bride who has had so