Incorporating Your Insecurity Into Your Writing.

Do I have a hand fetish?

Ian Murphy
2 min readJun 22, 2020

--

I ask, because I kept coming back to people’s hands while writing. Were they clapping? Interlocked? Maybe clutching a chest during a heart attack. Whatever the action, my focus was on the wrist down. Once I realized my habit, I couldn’t stop noticing it. I was sure it would stick out like a sore thumb to readers.

It grew intrusive. I would actively go out of my way to avoid mention of hands. I’d waste time detailing all the other body parts. I might’ve gone too far, because for a long while my characters became amputees.

Unfortunate, because hands can be useful storytelling devices. An elaborate coin trick demonstrates finesse. Two people holding hands reveals intimacy. A quick middle finger is an easy way to identify a punk.

My problem was in halting story flow to look at the flaccid sausage fingers of a mere side character, getting lost in the grease coating them, the dark dirt crescents under the nails. What did any of that serve? He wasn’t doing anything special. Wasn’t vital to the plot. I was losing myself in the lurid detail.

At the same time, I didn’t want to miss an opportunity. What if I wasn’t the one who had the hand fetish? What if my main character was actually nervous about making eye contact? Looking down during a conversation would mean staring at hands instead of faces. Perhaps other parts as well, but that would require a raunchier mind than his.

What if my protagonist became adept at scrutinizing a person’s digits? To a point that he could read mood and marital status by the way the speaker twisted a ring on her finger? Able to determine who was blue or white collar by the density of their calluses?

As a new writer, it’s been easy for me to hone in on my weaknesses and view them as things to be removed. And I’m not saying that every mistake made is secretly an opportunity. Grammar errors, punctuation mistakes, just plain bad writing — those aren’t going to do me any favors. But there’s going to be times when my perceived mistake can actually add to my work.

It was difficult to recognize, and so far the hands have been the best example I have of integrating a stylistic shortcoming into the story. But I‘m on the look out for more. So the next time you find yourself insecure over an aspect of your writing, it may benefit you to examine it further. Find ways in which you can roll it into the narrative.

I hope to bring you more hands-on tips in the future. I understand if these puns make you want to keep your claps.

--

--

Ian Murphy

I’m a writer and I used to confuse self-deprecating humor with self-decapitating humor.