by Erin Wright
As Tenny says, cutting is an addiction, just like drugs or alcohol or anything else that gives you a “high” and a way of dealing with pain. Someone who starts out by cutting has a much higher statistical probability of continuing onto other high-risk activities (drugs, alcohol, unsafe sex, etc) than someone who does not cut.
And just like with every other destructive behavior you can indulge in, there is also social pressure to cut. It can be the “cool thing” to do within a group of girls. (As Levi discovers in the book, statistically, cutters are much more likely to be girls, although there are some boy cutters out there).
If you find that someone you care about is cutting, the most important step you can take is to find out why. The mere fact that they are cutting isn’t nearly as important as you initially might think it is; stopping them from doing it by taking away all of their blades, for example, will just mean that they will start dripping hot wax onto their skin, or inhaling paint thinner, or other self-destructive behavior.
The problem isn’t the cutting; the problem is whatever is causing the girl to think that she needs to cut.
That’s the problem that needs to be solved. The cutting will resolve itself naturally after that.
The other big reveal in this book – that Levi isn’t Steve’s son after all – came as inspiration from an article I was reading on the topic of DNA tests. Since DNA tests have become so easy and prevalent, there has been case after case after case of people finding out that their parents (usually the father) isn’t who they thought they were.
In one extreme case, two older ladies (I want to say they were in their 70s or 80s, but I can’t find the article now) found out that they’d been accidentally switched at birth. One was a redhead in a family without another redhead in sight, and the other one was the only non-athletic child in the family. She could never figure out why it was that she was absolutely awful at sports when everyone else in her family played them professionally. Because of DNA tests, they eventually figured out that they’d been swapped at birth and that their family wasn’t actually their family.
Of course, I found this fascinating and immediately decided that it was going to end up in one of my books. (I often make the joke that I am not actually creative at all; rather, I’m just good at re-appropriating other people’s stories, lol). If you find this sort of thing as interesting as I do, you should do a Google search for stories on the topic. You’ll spend the rest of the day reading hilarious / awful / jaw-dropping / horrendous / heartwarming stories about the truth revealed by DNA tests.
You’re welcome.
Last but not least, I wanted to say that any author worth a bucket of warm spit will take the time to do research so they can write accurate books. As always, I have Handsome Hubby to thank for all of his help in researching Fire and Love. I had to learn how to fish so I could write the scene down at the lake accurately, and – would you believe it – I even learned how to weld so I could write that scene also. If you go back and reread that first welding scene, it’s virtually a straight recounting of how my first welding lesson went. My first weld was absolute chicken scratch, but by the third round, I’d improved immensely and my husband was in awe of how quickly I was picking it up. How cool is that?!
The one part that isn’t true in my own life is when Levi says that he “ain’t creative.” In my case, my husband is absolutely creative. In fact, here are some shots of the yard art that he welded together, using old shovel heads:
And here’s a close-up of just the head:
My husband can out-weld, out-blacksmith, out-sew, out-cook, and out-fish any other person I’ve ever met. Sadly, my creative talents seem to lie solely on the written page.