Why I Write the Characters I Do
by J.M. Dabney
Let me begin by thanking The Blogger Girls for allowing me to have a guest post today.
I agonized over what to write in my post. Guest posts aren’t my forte. I can write thousands of words as if it’s nothing, but posts like this leave my mind blank. So, I thought I’d talk about why I write the characters I do.
My single motivation is to give readers under represented characters who they can read about—experience—and feel as if they are the star of their own romance. No matter shade, size, or shape, sexual identity or lack thereof.
BBW (big beautiful woman) and BHM (big handsome men) are the characters I love writing the most. The books are out there, but not in the numbers they should be.
We live in a society very much overrun with media that makes individuals young and old insecure. They’re assaulted with expectations of what is considered acceptable. I worship those characters with rolls, bellies, wrinkles, dimples, and I make sure my characters are comfortable with and appreciated for those imperfections. Imperfections isn’t the right word, our stories are told in those little details. The crinkle at the corners of a person’s eyes that tells of happier times. Years of smiles and laughter.
Scars, remembrances of times past. C-section scars that tell the story of children’s births. The pale scars on wrists, forearms, or thighs that remind us of pain. Marks that retell our folly of youthful beliefs of our invincibility.
Livingston is one of those characters. Traumatized by abuse. Wearing constant reminders of an unconscionable hate. He wears the twisted and marred skin as a knight of old would wear armor. Never letting anyone close. Those superficial scars are nothing like the emotional/mental damage done. But his lack of prettiness or physical conventionality makes him no less worthy of finding his peace and the love he deserves.
I won’t claim that love conquers all, but it helps. We’re humans created by experiences, some good, bad, and in cases horrific. When we’re open to the possibilities we embrace our freedom to attain what we need without expectations or the what-ifs that mire us down in what we’re supposed to be or who we love.
We’re all imperfectly perfect.
We’re all valuable.
We’re all just…us. Continue reading





