Winter quiets a forest. The birds are gone or hiding and the dogs stay home. But the wind groans and trees whine as they struggle beneath their growing load of snow. Like those trees, many writers carry emotional burdens that threaten to bend and break them. But great authors, like Nobel laureate Kenzaburo Oe, transform the injuries of life into their best work.

Through writing about survivors of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, Oe came face to face with people who had lived through unimaginable disaster. Photos of the bombing victims are some of the most gruesome I've ever seen. Years ago, after visiting the Hiroshima Museum, I could barely think. Although Oe was able to write about these war atrocities, he continued to run away from the disaster that had scarred his own life. He only matured as a writer and father, when he found the courage to write about his brain-damaged son, instead of fleeing away "from the deformed child".

Often we flee from the deformed or wounded children within and around us. We are afraid that going back to life's most painful moments will overwhelm us, capsizing the fragile boats in which we navigate the rapids of life. The truth is that revisiting trauma is the surest way to undo its spell. What doesn't break you the first time, will not destroy you the second. Revisiting trauma helps you to appreciate your own power to withstand adversity. And it is an excellent strategy for becoming a better writer.