Trauma and Mental Health in Fiction (Blog) - October 2026

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As a novelist of contemporary fiction, I use my lived experience of mental health to make my characters relatable to my readers. In both of my novels, there are elements of trauma, profound guilt, shame, and hope. Readers will comprehend the struggles in a range of ways based on their own experiences or held beliefs. I’d love to highlight the role that mental health representation in fiction plays today.

I’m no historian, but mental health representation first appeared in fiction during the 1800s with titles like Wuthering Heights (1847) and The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (1886). Over the past two centuries, the literary sector has seen countless tropes, characters, literary devices, and plots that carry mental health themes.

Between the late 1800s and 1960s, the topic became more prominent alongside developing understanding of psychology and psychiatry. Virgina Woolf started appearing on shelves with Mrs Dalloway (1925) and The Waves (1931). Other notable writers of the age were the highly-acclaimed J.D. Salinger (The Catcher in the Rye, 1951) and Sylvia Plath (The Bell Jar, 1963). 

Today, mental health representation is much more broader and is seen in films, artwork, music, and - of course - books. It is now considered a subject rather than observed primarily as a plot device or symbol. Many contemporary novels are great examples of how mental health and struggles are an ongoing part of real life for people, making the stories more relevant than ever. To name a few, The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky, 1999), Normal People (Sally Rooney, 2018), A Little Life (Hanya Yanagihara, 2015), and All the Bright Places (Jennifer Niven, 2015). However, there are bumps along the way through storytelling.

During my high school years, I battled with anorexia nervosa and a period of self-harm. To channel my thoughts and emotions, I wrote The Chasm Between Us. It is not autobiographical, but rather a few streaks of my own experience with shame amongst an imaginative story. I realised I enjoyed writing and wrote my second novel, Justifier. Both contain elements of my own story, but I also did my research to ensure the mental health rep was accurate.

Shame, grief, suicide, self-harm, trauma, mental illness. These are touchy subjects and require careful wording and craft, so it doesn’t negatively affect the readers and create any misunderstandings. My hope was to break stigma and create a meaningful impact, so I used reliable sources like Mayo Clinic and listened to people’s lived experience with mental illness on Youtube. I wrote several drafts and had both manuscripts professionally edited and gained feedback from beta readers and editors. 

It was also important to read other books that spoke explicitly of mental health and mental illness, so I could attain insight to the craft of characterisation and plot devices. Some novels I found particularly useful were Pieces of You (Eileen Merriman), Out of the Ashes (Vanessa Evetts), and Because Everything is Right but Everything is Wrong (Erin Donohue), Hannah & Huia (Charlotte Lobb), and Ain’t No Wave Pool (J K Starling). Each carried a similar undertone by the end: hope. That is the realisation myself and other like-spirited authors strive for.

A lot happens between the beginning and end for a character - as pointed out in the previous blog post (Character Arc). They face struggles, confrontation, their pasts, their wounds, meet people, have new perspectives, and find aspects of life they hadn’t anticipated. It’s said the longest journey is from ‘the head to the heart’. Based on mental health statistics - particularly for young people - that’s very true. They comprehend what ‘you are loved’ and ‘you matter’ and ‘there is hope’ means, but find it difficult to believe in their heart.

Enter fictional characters with real-world applicable messages. Relatibility.

No two persons’ journeys are the same, which makes them and their stories unique. However, when a person going through a valley reads of people like themselves, they have a shared experience and that can give the reader a sense of relief and reassurance. How explicit the author is about the characters is completely up to them, but trigger warnings must be taken into account for reader disclaimer. I use trigger warnings before the story begins in both of my novels. 

Being authentic is the best way to get the words onto the page and being open with oneself is the best way to read. There’s grit and emotion and hopefully fearlessness. Unfortunately, there can also be errors on such a significant topic: the risk of romanticising trauma, abuse, or mental illness. This is frowned upon, as it paints a picture that suffering is something to be achieved or glamorised rather than something that can be managed and/or overcome. It is important for both readers and writers of this subject to realise everyone’s pain is different; for some they can recover, and for others it’s out of their control. Having real-life people with real-life experience read early drafts of your work can save you a ton of time and disappointment by pointing out what could be said better or doesn’t align with what’s true. 

Lastly, it’s incredibly courageous to read or write about trauma and mental health, either in fiction or non-fiction, as we are allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. Things can surface while being creative, which in turn can give us clarity and guidance. It’s important to not spend all our time buried in the arts, but have interaction with real people too; those who know us best.

It’s clear after 200 years of writing about mental health that both creators and consumers yearn for characters they can relate to and share in their pain and trauma with. Not even words do a perfect job of describing how it feels for the sufferer, but they help encourage the voice of those who are broken. Some write reviews to point out that fact. Below are a couple from Goodreads for The Chasm Between Us. 

“I saw so much of myself and my own internal battles within these pages. Campbell captures the rawness of mental distress with striking honesty. For those who have struggled—or are still struggling—this story offers connection and understanding.”

“Sam is an incredibly realistic character—one I’m positive many readers will relate to and see pieces of themselves in. Despite his difficulties, Sam strives to succeed in life and follows his own motivations to become a cardiothoracic surgeon. Over the course of the novel, readers journey with Sam through intense highs and lows as he struggles to navigate the complexities of life.” 

I don’t know what you’re going through, but my hope is that this blog post will highlight the importance of good and relatable mental health representation in fiction and that if you read my books or others with similar subjects, they will give you a touch of hope in return.

-Campbell Anderson