Stories are how we make sense of ourselves and the world. The trick is to not let your mental illness weaponise it.

As a teenager diagnosed with OCD, hours of my mornings were spent checking to see if the front door was locked. I used to get to school, only to have to walk back home and then back again several times.

M*A*S*H, on every weekend day at 5pm, became an anchor in the swell of overpowering thoughts. The characters and stories of them finding a way to survive the challenges of being trapped in a front-line medical unit helped me process my own. Later, JD’s monologues in Scrubs helped me clarify my place in the world. Hell is always nicer when you have someone to walk through it with you.

Domestic violence darkened my household. I needed a friend to take into battle. Luckily, I had story worlds to draw from. My Generation 1 Optimus Prime toy stood by my side. He could kick ass. Later, Hans (my plush T-Rex mental health carer) tagged in. He is cooler, of course. More modern.

Two of the four times I tried to commit suicide were when I felt detached from my beloved narratives. I didn’t feel connected to the things that help me keep grounded.

As a writer, I’ve been quiet for a few years now as I’ve been rebuilding from my latest (hopefully last) suicide attempt. The stalling of my creative endeavours had left me lost and hopeless. Even thinking about anything new was taxing.

Alongside years of intense therapy, the help of Hans and my dear network of friends has seen me become functional again. Trauma therapy is hard. FYI.

Hans, ever the proud genius, suggested that we could combine two of our older stalled projects into something new. For the past few years, we’ve been working on an Upper Middle Grade science fiction novel.

**Wren Findley and the Call of the Pied Piper.**

“I don’t understand why I need to write an abstract for a field report. People can read my account… T-Rexes and paperwork. Sigh. Whatever. This thing is written by me, Wren Findley. I’m a teenage Time Thymus assigned to MR-1. This tracks our journey to unmask the douchebag kidnapper who calls himself the Pied Piper. Along the way, we battle Devil Frogs, robots, and ninety-foot Snake Queens. I discover I’m part of some prophecy and meet my Utahraptor teammates, Hans and Gomez. You’ll probably get frustrated with how much OCD comes up. It frustrates me too. Sadly, it’s part of who I am. Not sure what’s more complicated — dinosaurs, mental illness, or time travel. Maybe I’ll figure that out one day.”

A deeply personal journey, each chapter reflected a life lesson in the real world. I found myself healing. The characters were allowing me to grow with them. Wren’s OCD has become so authentic that I’m actually (irrationally) worried about giving readers the illness.

Some other victories include:

Finding my audience
Writing in third person and utilising past tense
Jumping the shark twenty times (at least — it’s part of the story world’s DNA)
Being able to embrace elements from my favourite stories and make them my own.

The Book is finally ready to be sent out into the world. I am ready for that challenge (#publishme).

This also means I’m ready to dive into Book 2 of the six-part series. As part of my continued healing, I’ve decided to bring you along for the ride. Each week (or fortnight), I’ll post a new entry about what I’ve learned, my ongoing progress, and maybe even drafts of chapters.

For now, here is a teaser poster for Wren Findley and the Horror at the Tower of Babel.

Welcome to the Wrenverse