Inside Out, Outside In

Everything you write in a journal can give you insight on yourself. It can also give you insight on your stories.
Everything you write in your stories can give you insight on your story. It can also give you insight on yourself.

(This is not to say that you are the main character in your stories, as you are in your journal. Or you might be -- Mary Sue and Marty Stu stories are not necessarily bad if the story is well-written. For those unacquainted with fan fic, a Mary Sue/Marty Stu story features a protagonist who charms everyone, becomes indispensible and gets the girl/guy/gender fluid individual. He or she has no discernable faults. The story gives you the impression that the main character is an extension of the writer. It's best to avoid writing Marty Stu/Mary Sue because it's hard to write well. However, James T. Kirk in the Star Trek reboot fits this profile rather nicely.)

You inform the emotions of your characters based on your emotions and your take on others' emotions. How could you not? Everything you learn about emotional complexity from life, often explored through journaling, sneaks into your story as you try to inject emotional realism. Conversely, sometimes you read that page or ten you've written and say, "That reminds me of me."

I came to this realization studying yesterday's tempestuous missive in this blog. Hours after I wrote it, three words jumped at me: "I love everyone." I realized what I actually said was, "I want everyone to love me." After becoming really embarassed for giving that away, I claimed that neediness, and then thought, "Now, wouldn't that make a Mary Sue more intriguing?"

To spiral back to the beginning, everything you write in a journal can give you insight on yourself. It can also give you insight on your stories. Everything you write in your stories can give you insight on your story. It can also give you insight on yourself. It takes writing and introspection.