Writing What I Know

I want to share a bit about my creative process when writing stories, especially Out of the Depths. One thing that helps me more than anything is having a frame of reference. I’m not someone who starts completely from scratch with pure imagination. Instead, I anchor my stories in real experiences and places.

When I was writing Angela’s story, I pictured her workplace as somewhere very familiar to me, the place I used to work in Los Angeles. I could clearly see it. The layout, the people, the rhythm of the day. More importantly, I remembered what happened after the workday ended.

The group outings. The bars. The unpredictable nights.

I’ve seen coworkers pass out and get carried home. I’ve seen personalities completely shift after a few drinks. So when Angela finds herself in those environments, it doesn’t feel exaggerated to me. If anything, it feels real. For certain work cultures, that kind of chaos isn’t unusual at all.

The Parts of Ourselves We Write Into Characters

Angela also represents something a little more personal.

She embodies a version of myself that I sometimes wished I could be. More outgoing. More socially fluid. The kind of person who thrives in group settings and naturally connects with others. I used to watch people like that and wonder how they made it look so easy, especially in professional environments where relationships seemed to matter just as much as performance.

But at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder what their lives looked like behind the scenes. What struggles they carried that weren’t visible on the surface.

That curiosity found its way into her character.

The Reality of Starting Out

One part of Angela’s story that I chose to keep, even when advised to cut it, was her experience with the job interview process.

That section is very real to me.

I remember what it felt like coming out of college, applying for jobs that weren’t quite what I wanted, traveling farther than I hoped, and accepting pay that didn’t match the effort I was putting in. There was always this underlying hope that someone would notice, that eventually the hard work would pay off.

And the interviews themselves… some of them were brutal.

Looking back now, with years of experience behind me, a lot of those questions feel less like meaningful evaluations and more like hazing. Or worse, excuses to filter people out arbitrarily. At the time, though, it was exhausting. Mentally draining in a way that’s hard to explain unless you’ve lived it.

I wasn’t coping well during that period.

And I’ve thought about this before, if alcohol had been my vice of choice back then, I could easily see how that path might have gone very differently for me.

Looking Back With Gratitude

Thankfully, things eventually changed.

I got my break.

I found my footing.

And over time, I worked my way into a position where I now have the space to create, to write, and to tell stories that mean something to me. That’s not something I take lightly. It feels like a genuine blessing.

When I look back on that difficult season of life, I don’t just see the frustration or the exhaustion anymore. I see how it shaped me. How it gave me the material, the perspective, and the emotional grounding to write characters like Angela in a way that feels real.

In the end, that struggle didn’t just lead to a better career.

It made me a better storyteller.