Lifestory Writers Need a Village

Fellow blogger Linda Austin included a reminder in a post on MoonbridgeBooks that at least for stories about the larger family, the more family members you involve in the process, the more complete and vibrant the book will be.

Amen to that! Especially when you’re writing about multiple generations within your family. The principle still pertains when focus is solely on self, but in the latter case, you may be better advised to rely on a group of writing buddies rather than relatives. Writing buddies won’t try to hijack your story and feed your inner critic by reminding you “That’s not the way it was!” or “You sure do have a creative memory” or “Why would you write about that?

Whether writing about self or family, every lifestory writer needs a village of collaborators at various stages. These are people you can turn to for inspiration, encouragement, feedback and more. Your writing buddies, whether a formal group or scattered people, can help neutralize Inner Critic assaults. They can tell you when you’ve talked about people without saying who they are or jumbled your timeline. They can warm your heart with wows. They can jog your memory. They can throw logs on the fire and hold your feet to it to keep you writing when the coals run low.

I might quit writing without my village. Mine consists of students, former and present. Local writing groups. Losing my Pittsburgh groups was the biggest wrench in moving to Austin, but Austin is crawling with writers, so I was quickly at home. NAMW is an important part of my village. Most of my village lives in my computer. You are part of it, especially when you leave comments here or on Facebook.

You’ll notice I’ve been slow to post lately. Ditto on working on my book. Hey villagers, keep my feet to that fire. Let me hear it!

If you don’t already have one, find a village, online or in town. Write your heart out, then craft the draft. Persist with your writing. I invite you to share your experience with your writing village in a comment. Or leave a suggestion for others on how to find or build a village of their own. Or tell me to get off the dime and WRITE!

Triumph at the End of a Rocky Road

The note above shows one of a rapidly growing list that Carol B has received from family members after privately publishing a volume of family history laced together with relevant aspects of her personal story. She swells with happiness at each one. These notes are more than usually rewarding. The road to this outcome has been rocky. Her stories sizzle with intrigue. That eventually presented a problem.

Carol, her parents, and a family friend (I omit her full name at her request to protect her family’s privacy), spent decades gathering stories and documents from county records and other sources, documenting purchase and sale of property, births, deaths and marriages, police and jail records, newspaper articles and pictures. Piles and piles of pictures. She took careful notes as relatives chewed the fat at family events.  She even sought out help from her local historical society to gather added information.

Eventually she wove memories and facts into stories. Lifestory writing group members pointed out unclear areas, missing material and more. Her strong writing grew polished in both content and structure. Then forces of darkness emerged.

Her family’s history includes mayhem, madness and murder. It’s all a matter of public record, and mostly forgotten, though ripples remain in family attitudes and traits. Still, she was loathe to publish it all without warning the family. She told everyone whose names appeared in the book what she was up to and asked their permission to share stories relevant to their immediate family members. With the exception of one person within her family, she was offered nothing but support and encouragement.  She did not have anyone else read her book, as she was not willing to write a book by committee.  As it turned out, the faith that family members had in her was almost unanimous. Others showed their trust by giving full permission to use their names and their particular family stories.

However, there was one family member who, without even reading the book, objected on principle. “There is no reason to dig all that stuff up again.”  Said Person would not discuss it with Carol and did not respond to numerous requests to be named in the book, then cut off  direct communication.

Carol’s inner critic went nuts. What if I’m sued?  Maybe I’m too critical. Maybe my book is too negative.  Even if I do expose the people in my book to public scrutiny, these are the stories of my family. What should I do?

Her voice had the sound of defeat as she told me, “That person has gobs of money and can afford to sue me on a whim. Maybe that will happen. Maybe I should just drop it. Maybe I should just share the Word file with anyone who wants to read it.”

“You’ve told dozens of people you’re doing this, and they all want to see it finished. What about them? Will you be letting them down? You’ve set aside funds to see it through. How can we work around this?”

Note to readers: don’t try to handle this alone. Get plenty of perspectives. 

“Do you think I’ve been too critical?  Is my book too negative?”

“NO! But I’m not always the best judge of emotional tone. Let’s get one more opinion.” I recommended another writer I know who excels in this area. Her response was supportive. Carol regained her grip.

She decided she would proceed with the project with these caveats:

• She omitted all references to Said Person beyond a couple of picture captions where she cites the relationship without a name.  She decides to include a vintage photo of Said Person, but includes only a first initial and maiden last name.  To do otherwise would have made her uncomfortable, since she did not want to purposefully leave anyone out of the family history.  She also decided to mail Said Person a copy of the family history book. To date, there has been no acknowledgement of receipt though communication on other subjects has been resumed. 

• In the Acknowledgments she states: “I have remained faithful to the stories that were passed down through the family and relied on my own memories and those of other family members for additional tales. Throughout the process, I maintained my belief and intention to cause no harm.”

• The back cover includes a disclaimer of sorts: “… For decades she has collected stories from relatives and public records. She compiles those stories with personal reflections to tell the family’s story with truth and honesty to the best of her understanding.” 

She also firmed up her decision to keep publication as private as possible.

This last step required thinking out of the box. Carol is facing serious health problems and wants to ensure that her extended family will be able to independently order additional copies for years to come.

In line with her decision to keep the book private, she vowed to avoid all promotion and publicity. She is eager, however, for others to know of her experience, even though they won’t be reading the book. Buoyed by the outpouring of gratitude from family members, such as the note above, she has asked me to share that story, hoping to inspire others who battled doubts about sensitive disclosure to persist and find their own way around obstacles.

I’m happy to oblige, emphasizing to readers that publishing privately with limited distribution can be a strong and rewarding option for those who shy away from telling all to the world at large.

As the fan letter notes, Carol is hard at work on a second volume, a personal memoir. Will this one also be kept under wraps? Who knows? If she opts for open publication, you’ll be among the first to know.

Points to Ponder: What tense material might slow down your writing project? What creative workarounds can you come up with? Who can you turn to for support and fresh ideas?

Points to Ponder: What tense material might slow down your writing project? What creative workarounds can you come up with? Who can you turn to for support and fresh ideas?

Happy Blogiversary to Me

It’s time to stop and celebrate nine years of blogging, 640 posts, (that’s a little over 70 per year), countless thousands of comments, and I have no idea how many hundreds of thousands of viewers from all over the world. But what are statistics among friends?

I will point out one small thing derived from those stats: writing steadily, even a relatively small amount (word count average for posts is close t0 700), six times a month will add up to a pile of 650 stories over nine years. Even one story a month will add up to 108 stories in nine years. You can do the math. On the other hand, waiting until the right moment to start can add up to … an empty book.

How persistent are you?

Don’t think these posts have been a completely steady flow. In the beginning I wrote three times a week, sometimes more. Never on a schedule, but reliably often. Later, they slowed to twice a week. The last few months of last year they were more like twice a month, with even longer intervals at times. On several occasions I was tied up with travel or other obligations that left large gaps. Life happens, and that’s okay.

At the beginning of this year I decided nine years was enough. I sat down to write a post saying “It’s been nice, but I’ve said it all, several different ways. Please continue to use and enjoy the archives and similar sites. I’m moving on to other projects now.”

As my fingers fumbled for those words that flow easily in retrospect, I couldn’t do it. I kept thinking of things I have not said yet, or new ways of saying old things. I realized afresh that

• I love sharing new thoughts and discoveries
• View stats show that despite relatively low comment rates (something Janet Givens blogged about recently), viewer count has actually climbed.
• Although blogging gurus insist successful blogs must post on a rigid once-a-week at the same time every time, my results suggest that’s not entirely true. Despite my irregular, sometimes infrequent posting schedule, viewer count has climbed.

So I wrote 2015 Writing Resolutions instead. I will not be bound by Expert Advice to post compulsively at 5 a.m. every (Tuesday) morning, come  hell or high water. I’ll continue to follow my sense of what works for me – and apparently also for readers – and post when I have something to say.

That is my gift to you: no posts written to a deadline. If I ever post more than once a week, you’ll know it’s important!

So there you have it. The Heart and Craft of Lifewriting will continue for the foreseeable future.

Write now: consider a long-term project – writing or something else – that you are feeling burned out on. Write a story about dropping it. Write about what you’ve learned. the rewards (tangible or otherwise) you’ve received, and why it’s time to stop. Is the last part hard to write? If it is, you’ll know it’s not time to stop.

Mystery Solved

I couldn’t put words to the vision, perhaps because the vision itself wasn’t clear. Looking across the Godfrey’s living room while  babysitting, I vaguely sensed a phantom group of sophisticated people gathered in a dimly lit, smoke-filled living room much like this one. People lounged on sofa and chairs, some sitting on the floor. They sipped martinis or gin and tonic, discussed philosophy, and ascended to levels of vision inaccessible to mere mortals. These beings were in touch with another realm, larger than life. In touch with the gods? This vision stirred a nameless yearning for something mysterious and transcendent.

Though I seldom thought of it until several years ago when I began writing about those years, that vision has stuck with me for many decades, remaining clear and compelling, an enduring enigma. Over a few years, I’ve written about it from at least a dozen different slants, chipping away, bit by bit, seeking to discern what I was yearning for. Words like transcendence, intellectual and vision came to mind. Those people seemed privy to wisdom and cosmic truths that I yearned to learn.

I came to see this quest for understanding as my metaphor of what may well be mankind’s eternal quest, the force driving most religions. But the mystery remained locked. I continued to hold it gently in the back of my mind.

Last week I found a fascinating thought in Paul Watzlawick’s classic, How Real Is Real? Mankind craves universal unity. I felt a buzz of recognition when I read that thought, and I reread it several times over the next few days, seeking to fully understand its appeal. This seemed deeper than casual allusions to world peace or fear-mongering talk about sinister cabals.

Finally the dots connected: I was imagining phantom people who were at one with Source.

As I realized this, several related pieces fell into place. They saw order. Of course! I’ve mentioned before that Story is the operating system of the human brain. We crave unity. We also crave order, logic, understanding. We want to make sense of life.

But wait. I discovered another channel in this scene, one I’d been unaware of. At least to my young mind, these people had broken through the shackles of convention and societal expectations. They were free. They were bold. They were unafraid. They were happy with who they were, and for at least that moment, that was enough.

Bottom line, they were immersed in universal LOVE. (I remind myself and readers that I had no basis in fact or experience for this totally fictitious fantasy.)

Well, what do you know – universal love is something I know a bit about, and it doesn’t take a cocktail party to find. After all the books, the rituals, the prayers, the seeking, it’s just … there. My mystery is solved, and through the magic of story and the magic of words – my words, Watzlawick’s words, and many others – the yearning has come full circle. How delightfully ironic that once I saw, I already knew.

Perhaps my life would be equally rich if I’d never unlocked this nagging mystery, but the fact that it stayed freshly in mind for well over fifty years, begging to be solved, says something. I’m convinced I would never have unraveled it if I had not discovered various forms of life writing. I’ve journaled about it, scribbled random thoughts,  written essays and stories. My writing process chipped away at the shell, thinning it to the point that Watzlawick’s words could rupture that final protective membrane.

What will I do with this insight now? Maybe nothing. Or maybe I’ll include it in another memoir or work it into a novel. For now it’s on my scrap pile awaiting further disposition. Or not. Perhaps solving it is enough.

Write now: write in whatever form you choose about a compelling vision, memory or thought that’s puzzled you for years. Keep writing about it off and on until its message becomes clear.

The Writer’s Path

Although 99% of my writing is stored electronically in several places, I have a  filing cabinet in my office, with drawers 24" deep. The back of of them is hard to access. That’s where my oldest stories are stored, the ones I wrote in 1979 on my old Smith Corona electric at the beginning of my journey along my Writer’s Path.

Every few years I pull those stories out and am reminded again how utterly pitiful they are. True, they were fiction. Sort of. I didn’t know about lifestory writing yet, and would not have been brave enough to write openly anyway. Although some content is touching, descriptions were flat as Kansas, dialogue stilted and contrived. They jumped around. And they were preachy. I had an agenda when I wrote those stories and it wasn’t hidden. They were a start.

Twenty-five years ago, I knew nothing of creative writing classes or writing groups, and never thought to look for books on how to write. I was shooting from the finger tips, buoyed by A’s on research papers.

I fared a bit better when I became contributing editor for a local women’s magazine, getting favorable remarks on my stories from casual acquaintances. When my first book, Meetings: Do’s, Don’ts and Donuts, was published in 1997, I was horrified by the first round of editing. That red ink looked like blood in a war zone.  Humiliation rapidly morphed into hope and excitement at the prospect of learning to be a serious writer. That experience was a cram course in writing.

Since then I’ve taken writing courses. I’ve read stacks and piles of books on how to write, spent hundreds of hours reading websites and listening to webinars and podcasts. But even more, I’ve written and written, and I’ve edited hundreds of stories for students. I have written for at least those 10,000 hours presumably required for mastery, though I don’t claim any titles as such. I’m great at description, but I still have much to learn. My path continues to go up and down, rising overall.

Looking back at those early stories, even at early blog posts, I can see that yes, I have learned, slowly at first, then more rapidly as I climbed along that path. I have grown as a writer, and I hope I continue to do so as long as my fingers move. I still can’t crank out a masterpiece on the first try. I edit my own work, sometimes going back months later when it feels like a stranger wrote it. And I continue to rely on feedback from others for points of view I would never, ever think of.

New writers, take heart. While it’s true that some people are born with a gift for eloquence, even they have a learning curve – they just learn faster. Some people are born with an eye for painting, others with the right legs for running. We each have a gift. But even those without “the gift” can learn to produce respectable results.

With practice.
With guidance.
With collaboration.

Take classes. Read, both how-to-write books and memoir or fiction. Join a writing group. Above all, keep writing. You’ll see results much sooner than I did, because it took me forever to find people to help me along the path. You don’t have to wait. Please join our growing community of life writers on the Life Writers Forum on YahooGroups. Sign up for the mailing list of the National Association of Memoir Writers and participate in the free monthly teleseminar roundtables. And keep writing! Climb that writer’s path, one story at a time.

Write now: write a story about your earliest memory if you’ve never written before. Pull out the oldest story you can find if you’ve been writing for awhile and look for ways to improve it. If you don’t see any, show it to a writing buddy and ask for feedback. If you still can’t find any, congratulations. You are ready for publication!

Monroeville Library Lifewriters

The Monroeville Public Library Lifewriters group began meeting five years ago after students in a six-week lifestory writing class I taught at the library wanted to keep meeting as an incentive to stick with their writing projects. All agreed to meet on a regular basis, twice a month, without adjusting the schedule to accommodate absences of any members, myself included. The group has continued to meet skipping only the second meetings in November and December, ever since. We have no formal membership or structure, and our average attendance has grown from around six at the beginning to a dozen today. Only a couple of original members still attend. The rest have cycled in at various points since.

Several members contributed short pieces for this post telling about the value the group and lifewriting in general has had for them. Excerpts follow.

Ellen: I am passionate about lifewriting because I am telling my own personal story in my own voice. Others can listen if they want, but the joy is in the telling. The joy of the lifewriting group is that there are eager listeners to my personal story—and they validate my life. I am passionate about lifewriting because I am telling my own personal story in my own voice. Others can listen if they want, but the joy is in the telling. The joy of the lifewriting group is that there are eager listeners to my personal story—and they validate my life.

Helma: I began writing my memoir in 1987 and continued to add to it periodically but never on a regular basis. I began with the marriage of my parents and tried to write a chronological-type bio. It was slow and infrequent work. Then one morning at the health club I happened to overhear two women discussing the writing club at my local library and decided to investigate, which I did and found that I would be welcome to attend. At first I was somewhat intimidated by their knowledge of writing and grammar, but the warm welcome and positive input soon changed that. In the short space of time that I have been with them I have gained much from the positive critiques. I look forward to each meeting.

Joan: The group gives me advice, critiques my work, accepts me for being me. My life is an open book and I enjoy sharing the good times as well as the not so good times. No one judges me. When I hear another person in the group read a story about something in their life, it inspires me and triggers another one of my memories, which could have stayed dormant forever.

Margaret: I really enjoy the group, and the friendly interaction of each one. It's good to know other people’s stories and how they grew up and what their thoughts are about life. It's heartwarming to know that we can connect to other people, no matter what our up-bringing or circumstances.

Chuck: I have taught many different university-level writing classes, edited technical writing, and written 42 plays and two writing text books, so I know how to write. So I do spend a lot of time proofreading and never dash something off the morning of the class. And yet, I can overlook my own typos, and I always appreciate the keen eye of one of the group spotting an error. I definitely find being a part of the group extremely enjoyable. People in the group are great; and the group serves as great motivation to write. I've been deeply moved by something that each person in the group has written.

Nancy: For some time, I had been thinking about writing my memoirs, using "I remember when  . . . " as my theme. I tried a class at the Penn Hills Library in the summer of 2010, but was somewhat disappointed to learn that it was a group for all types of writing; in addition, once my fall schedule began, I was not free the night the group met. One of the members of the Monroeville Library group, a friend from church, encouraged me to visit. I have thoroughly enjoyed the group, hearing others' memories and sharing some of my own. The constructive criticism and the positive reinforcement meant so much to me. Our two-hour meetings twice a month work well for me, and we always seem to find time for every person to read his or her story.

Paul: You could display my two books that you inspired me to author and publish after the age of eighty.

Paul, the author of Living to Serve and Bridges to Peace wrote this brief response while on vacation. He is working on a third book and is a charter member of the group. I mentioned him in an earlier post.

Thanks to all the members who responded. I hope their comments may inspire others to join a group, or start one if you can’t find one.

Write now: about your experience with writing groups. If you don’t belong to one, write about benefits you might receive from one, and reasons you may think of starting one.

Lessons From a Snow Covered Drive

I look down the length of my snow covered drive and feel tired at the sight. I’m home alone this week, and the job is all mine, to do or ignore. The drive is 100 feet long, steeply sloping and wide. True, there are only three inches of fluffy snow. True, I could let it go, but it will only get worse if it snows more, which it probably will. True, I don’t have to do the whole thing. Even a little will be an improvement. I have no idea where to begin ... .

As you can see from the photo above, I did finish, and in the process, I remembered several important lessons:

Let the project tell you how it wants to be done.

I paused at the bottom of the steps and listened. to my inner sense of things and to the driveway.“First things first,” I heard. “Shovel along the side so you can at least get down to the mailbox.” I did that. Then I heard “Do one scrape across the middle right there.” The next instruction was Now work your way down almost to the street. You can manage that.” Yes. I could manage that. I felt winded just shoveling the steps, but I knew that if I relaxed into it, I could do that much. I’m not that out of shape.

I steadily pushed the snow along, scraping it to the side. If only the paper delivery man had left it near the street instead of gallantly driving it up to the top. His tracks packed hard, sticking to the pavement. I moved to the top again and continued letting the driveway guide the process until I felt overheated and ravenous.

Take breaks when you need them.

I know better than to work to the point of total exhaustion. I came back in for lunch, rested, and returned to finish the job. The second half was easier. My muscles were loosened up, ready for work. I continued to proceed intuitively rather than trying to map out a plan.In a surprisingly short time, I was done.

Chunk it down

I didn't try to do the whole drive in one orderly process. The drive itself told me how to proceed, which parts to do for the biggest immediate impact, “in case I didn't finish.”

Know when to quit.

I started to work on those tracks. I started to clean along the street-side edge. That's nuts! I told myself. This is not a work of art. This is a functional driveway. The drive is not perfectly clear and bare, but I can drive up it with no problem. It works.

* * * * *

I think of my big writing projects, and how similar they are to shoveling the driveway. Any big project is. I never know exactly where to start, even if it's like a dozen others I've done. “Just start somewhere. Write something. And “let the project or story tell you how it wants to be written.” ”Strange as it sounds, that always works. 

I chunk them into sections, break them down. I write a paragraph, write a page. I do what I can today, and take breaks when I tire. The vision of the end result always pulls me forward, no matter how huge the project. Most importantly, I know that no project is ever perfect. I have to know when I've given my best and it's time to move on. 

The drive is cleared, scrape by scrape.

The book is written word by word.

The project will quickly be in shape

If that inner voice is gently heard.

This approach works for me, but it may not be perfect for you. The only right way to manage a creative project whether shoveling a drive, cleaning a closet or writing a book, is the one that works for you.

Write now: think of a big project you've undertaken. Write a few notes or an essay about the process. How did you go about it? Was it typical or different from other projects? What did you learn from it that will help you in the future? How can those lessons help you with your writing?

Turn Your Story Inside Out

Sometimes you have to turn a story inside out to find the real one.

Angela, a writing group friend, has been struggling with a story that just didn’t seem to be going anywhere. “It doesn’t have any tension,” she observed. “Nothing is really happening. Nobody would read more than a page or two.”

“So, why did you write this story? Why is it important to you?” another member asked.

Angela’s voice was tentative as she began to explain. When she got to one element she had stashed in a single paragraph near the end, she exclaimed, “I really have two stories here!” A jolt of electricity pulsed through the group.

We realized that her true and powerful story is buried deep inside the presenting story. That tiny seed of real story is where all the conflict and tension is, and the outer story seems almost dead, because it is only a shell. After Angela pulls the true story into the dominant position and gives it proper attention, the dull part will become relevant and lively.
 
A mental movie ran through my mind. I saw a cylindrical drawstring bag made of  filmy pastel silk print. It was a little wider than a fist, and deep enough to bury a hand well past the wrist. I reached into the dark depths of the bag, relishing the feel of rich velvety softness. I felt a lump attached to the bottom. When I pulled to remove the lump, the bag inverted. A rich black velvet bag now encased the silk one. A velvet-wrapped lump lay in my hand, well-padded and still hidden. It turned out to be a large jewel, sparkling in sunlight.

Thinking about the image of that bag, I recognize it as a metaphor. The original ephemeral story, bland and sweet, was hiding a true and powerful one. The bag hid and padded the jewel, removing the life that light imparts to it, and keeping it secret.

Why would you hide a jewel, I wondered. You may hide it to protect it — from thieves, dust, getting lost — and to keep its sharp facets from scratching things. Maybe you hide it because you don’t want to seem like a show off, have no place to wear it, or don’t think it’s real.

You may even hide it because it’s magic and you fear its power. Angela's Inner Censor may have hidden it without her knowing. Or — you may not have realized the bag was magic! It was a lovely bag the way it was. Who knew treasures lurked in its depths?

Angela's enthusiasm grew as she discussed her plans for revision, and I have no doubt that the new version will crackle with tension and energy.

Besides the jewel, that magic bag held some writing tips. If you are struggling with a story

• Ask yourself, Why did I write this story? What matters? What’s the real story here?
• You’ll know when you find the real story. You’ll experience a surge of energy and excited recognition.
• Find a good writing group or writing buddy to help you discover your treasures.
• Be patient. You won’t find your jewel until it’s ready to be found.

 Sometimes the best stories are hidden inside our old ones.

Write now: pull out an old story that you struggled with, one that seems dull and boring. Ask yourself that key question, Why did I write this? Keep digging until you hit some hard, glittering truth that fires your heart with enthusiasm. Let the new energy guide you to your real true story.

The Turkey Farm

Who would think that a lifestory or memoir would be co-authored? Rather surprisingly some excellent ones are. I recently finished reading The Turkey Farm – Behind the Smile, a gripping memoir about Jennifer Keefe’s life. Jennifer survived, among other things, the brutal murder of her mother, being raised by the hippie farmer and occasional drug dealer her mother didn’t get around to marrying after she divorced Jen’s alcoholic father, early exposure to drugs, endless betrayals by family members and her first husband, and facing down her mother’s murderer. In the end, it is a story of triumph. You can read my formal review of the book on the Story Circle Network book review site.

Quite aside from the content, this memoir is worth mentioning for many reasons. Among them is the fact that it is co-authored with Cheryl Archer, Jennifer’s best friend, whom she has known since grade school. In an account on Citizen.com, the electronic arm of The Citizen of Laconia (NH), the women tell of their adventures in writing the book.

The idea began when they were nineteen and wanted to capture Jen’s “stranger than fiction” story on paper. It took over fifteen years and lots of additional life experience to come to fruition. Jen still had a lot of life lessons to learn, and in the process of working with Cheryl to clarify things in her past, the story became a “journey to forgiveness” rather than an expose.

That’s not to say the story treads lightly on any topics. As you’ll read in the review, Jen’s stepfather sued unsuccessfully to prevent the book from being published, and her birth family members surely squirmed when they read it. For various reasons explained in the book, none were willing to take Jen and her brothers into their homes and raise them after their mother died. Her disclosures are brave and true, written from a witnessing point of view rather than one of blame. It took guts to go public with that material in any circumstances, and hopefully her courage will inspire others.

Jennifer’s life was changed by insight and forgiveness as a result of her collaboration with Cheryl, but Cheryl found reward enough of her own. What could be more rewarding than to see your best friend “wake up”, confront the demons of her past, and triumph over them to become radiantly happy, with a plan for her future. “It was the best gift I could give her,” she says. And perhaps the best gift she could give herself.

This book, which can be ordered from this webpage, has many lessons to offer, and for our purposes here, I’ll highlight these:

• The healing value of life story writing. The entire writing process was valuable, and an impromptu writing tip Cheryl gave Jen led to the final resolution of her anger and allowed forgiveness to rise from the ashes of her despair.
  

• The value of teamwork. Although anyone can write something, and anything you write is better than writing nothing, some are endowed with a more powerful gift for writing than others. Cheryl has far more of this gift than Jen. Jen lived the story, Chery put the pieces together to “find” the story.

• The power of persistence. Although it took over fifteen years, and countless obstacles arose, they never gave up.
  

• The satisfaction of helping another. Cheryl has seen the transformation of her best friend, and what could be more satisfying than knowing she played such a role in bringing that about? Cheryl is continuing to write other things now.

After reading this book and thinking deeply about it, I’m considering volunteering for one of the many Hospice programs in our region to help capture deathbed life stories. Perhaps you can think of ways to use your writing skills to benefit your friends or family members.

Write now: some memories and thoughts about someone you care deeply about, friend or family member, who may benefit from your help in getting their lifestory written. Is there some way you can share your gift for writing to help this person tell his or her story?

Ritergal's Horrible, Awful, Terribly Bad Day

Moan, groan, bitch and whine. I’m entitled to a pity party, and you are all invited. What?! You say you don’t want to come? That you have other more urgent plans, like watching the bread in your pantry grow mold? Can’t say as I blame you. Who wants to attend a pity party? Nobody, that’s who. Including me. I don’t even want to attend my own.

So, why do I write about it? Because it’s real. It’s true. It’s me, and it’s now. Yes, Accuweather.com assures me that tomorrow the sun will shine, but right now I’m feeling bogged down. Word is giving me fits (have I ever mentioned how much I hate Microsoft Word? And like OpenOffice?) as I work on my presentation for Story Circle Network’s Stories From the Heart conference that begins on February 1. I’m in over my head in trying to configure the wireless card for the laptop I converted to Ubuntu. I broke the rules on an Absolute Write Water Cooler forum game thread. I’m tired even thinking about figuring out how to put downloadable files on my website.

Enough of that. As I said, this is real. This day is my Truth. But, how many people are going to write for posterity about days like this? If you’re like me, you tend to paint your stories with a brush filled with sunshine, and paint out the storms and shadows. That’s okay. You may. But why not let your descendants see your back as well as your smile? Let them know that things weren’t perfect every day. After all, my current woes are hardly due to anything I’ve done. I’m simply overwhelmed by technology at the moment. They probably will be too. They may derive hope from evidence that they spring from resilient stock.

So, I choose to write about enough days like this to show them that “S(tuff) Happens,” and when it does, I deal with it. I’ll write about taking a break to read a few chapters of a mind candy novel to distract myself. About going to bed early for a few extra Zzzz’s so tomorrow I’ll wake refreshed and ready to tackle these puzzles anew. I’ll write about writer’s block and other barriers to writing.

In fact, just writing this blog about my horrible, awful, terribly bad day is making me feel better already. Should I delete the file now, or post this? Yes. I’ll post it. You may be having your own horrible, awful, terribly bad day. Yours may be way worse, like losing your job or something, and I wouldn’t want you to feel alone. Maybe readers who are feeling calm, joyful, or energetic will blow some virtual breaths of peace our way.

Write now: about a horrible, awful, terribly bad day, or even a whole season or year. List all the awful things about it, and how it came to and end. How the sun began to shine. If the sun hasn’t begun to shine yet, write about what the world will look like when it does.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

There Are No Mistakes

Detail of Sandra German quilt, from Sandy's Quilt Complex

Do you ever start writing a story and find it just isn’t going well? Do you then wad it up in disgust and throw it in the trash? Or hit the delete button? There’s hardly a writer alive who wouldn’t admit to that response to frustration, but you may want to think twice before doing it again.

Not long ago I attended a program at the library presented by Sandy German, a local quilter of international renown. As she paraded out one dazzling quilt after another, each more stunning and provocative than the last, she explained how each quilt came about. I began to notice that she often commented, “I never plan my quilts. I just start working, and they grow into what they are supposed to be.” Or something like that.

I finally had to ask, “Do you ever start a project and find it just isn’t going well; that the whole thing was a mistake?”

She paused and smiled her great big Mother Earth smile before she answered, “There are no mistakes, only unfinished projects. I have stacks of boxes full of projects that are still waiting to find their final shapes.”

I understood exactly what she meant. I have several megabytes of story scraps that haven’t yet found their story shape. Now and then I pull one out and stitch it into a larger story. The rest are still waiting for their time. Unfinished writing projects take way less storage space than unfinished quilting projects, especially if they aren’t on paper.

Write now: pull out a story scrap and finish the story. Don’t worry about truth, or what really happened, or what form it should take. Just finish the story. Then, if you still don’t like it, put it back in the unfinished pile — or indulge in the dubious pleasure of ripping it to shreds. At least you finished it.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

The Project That's Finally Done

TA-DAH! The Albuquerque Years is finished!

This is the last in a series of posts about my experience with Lulu.com as I published The Albuquerque Years, a memoir of my life as a preschooler. The saga began with The Project That Just Won't Quit on August 30, and continued with Part 2 on September 2. In my Lulu Project Update on September 22, I reported on the result of my initial order.

Today, I posted the link to the book's own Lulu page. It will remain in the left column, just under the link to The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. I have chosen to list The Albuquerque Years with no price mark-up, so anyone who wishes to order a copy as an example of Lulu's product quality can do so at nothing more than the cost of printing and postage. Anyone curious to see an example of a project brought to completion by the process I outline in The Heart and Craft, can do likewise. I include a short afterward with an overview of the Lulu Experience.

Finishing this project has been a thrill on at least two levels. It's always rewarding to see something through to completion, but when it's the story of your own life, it's especially rewarding. I have a much stronger sense of the depth of my life's roots, and where the story began.

Beyond that, having found my way through the Lulu labyrinth, which you know from earlier posts wasn't all smooth, I'm in a much better position to give reliable advice to any who ask. And I hope you will. Here's a summary of what I learned:

• Use styles to keep your headers and other content consistent. (See Appendix 3 in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing for detailed instructions on using styles in whatever word processing program you use.)


• Once you decide on a page size for your finished book, set the page size in your word processing program to those measurements, and adjust margins. (See Appendix 3 as above.)
  


• Use a photo editing program to resize any photos or other graphics you use to the exact size you need in your manuscript. Save them in jpg format (not tiff) at 300 dpi in RGB color mode, not grayscale. Use the grayscale mode even for black and white pictures. It's also advisable to convert your color pictures to grayscale and adjust accordingly before you switch them back to color mode. They will look like grayscale and be printed in grayscale on the Lulu presses, but experience showed me that the pictures set in color mode printed better than the grayscale one. Ditto with jpg/tiff.


• Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to resize a graphic inside your word processing program. I guarantee you will not be happy with the results.


• Unless you are a real whiz with PDF programs, upload your finished manuscript to Lulu for conversion to PDF. This will assure that the process goes smoothly. Download the finished PDF and preview it carefully to make sure there were no formatting glitches in the process.
  


• Unless you are a real whiz with a graphics program and PDF conversion, use Lulu's cover templates.
  

If anyone gets snarled up in this process, please contact me with questions. I learn from your challenges right along with you! Likewise, I'd love to hear of your successes!

Finally, for a short time I'm making the ebook version available at no cost to those who request it. Just click that link above and send me an e-mail.

I hope legions of lifestory writers will soon join the ranks of proudly published authors. (No, this is not a paid testimonial for Lulu! Right now they are the only reliable operation I know of with no setup fee.)

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Writing in the Mist

One morning last month, I awoke to find the world shrouded in translucent, luminous mist. The huge oak tree one hundred feet across the yard was visible only as a dark form.

I love misty mornings but seldom experience them. Lacking a compelling reason, I rarely leave the house before noon. The mist was compelling. I slid into shoes, grabbed my camera, and headed out the door. It’s challenging to describe the sensory delight that enfolded me. The moist, body-temperature air enfolded me in the most gentle, nurturing way. It was as if the air and I merged to become one. Ordinary thought gave way to a sense of awe that transcended words. Wafting wisps of fallen cloud kissed my flesh, like tender caresses from Mother Nature herself. I felt transported into a mystical world.

The street, which runs through the woods along the side of a steep hill, was nearly deserted, so I strolled down the middle, taking the occasional picture of dark tree shapes against misty grayness. If I believed in elves and fairies, this would have been a day to find them in the woods.

Before long, the sun’s power grew, and the mist began to lighten. I left the road and walked into the woods, surrounded by mature hardwood trees, with the top of the hill due east. Tentative shafts of light began piercing the canopy of leaves, rapidly gaining strength and confidence. In a short period of time, the gentle misty grayness was only a memory, supplanted by vibrant greens and browns set afire with life by the magical gold of full-strength sun rays.

As I sat down to write this blog, I was reminded of that morning. Ideas danced in my mind, but only as vague, misty shapes, not readily apparent. But I began writing, coaxing out elusive thoughts. Soon the fog began to part, and scattered ideas and memories coalesced into coherence.

Writing is like that. Sometimes a topic is in focus, full of energy and vigor, ready to burst into full bloom of its own accord. Other times, murky memories float in a mental mist, not quite clear, but luminous and present. In the misty moments, I find it best to be gentle with myself, writing slowly, aimlessly, letting the ideas take shape as they will. And indeed they will. I can’t guarantee that every time you “write in the mist,” you’ll burst through to a stellar story. I can guarantee that if you persist, writing softly and gently, feeling your way through those vague, dark shapes, sooner or later the mist will lift, the sun will shine, and you’ll find a story.

For now, perhaps you’d like to write about your experiences on foggy days. Do they make you sad, glad, fearful? Do you celebrate them or bemoan them? Has anything special (good or bad) happened on a foggy day? What do they make you think of?

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

The Project that Just Wouldn't Quit, part 2

I’m pleased to report that I was finally able to upload my finished files to Lulu.com, and place an order for one copy. Perhaps this project will be the exception, but there are always flukes that show up in the first copy. When I’m satisfied that all is as it should be, I’ll post a link to the file on Lulu.

To my surprise, the process has been far more complicated than I anticipated. It sounds so simple to get your manuscript laid out just the way you want it, “print” it to a pdf file, and upload that to Lulu. Indeed it was that simple for the Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing manuscript (that was working with a traditional publisher, not Lulu). The challenge there was getting Word to behave with all the graphics I used.

This time, Word behaved surprisingly well, but getting the pdf right was another matter, and I even used Acrobat to “distill” it. I won’t elaborate on the details here, though I may post them to the Lulu user forums and elsewhere. Unless you are a serious Power User (I’m ready to claim that designation now), with a vast reserve of patience, I suggest uploading your document file to Lulu and letting them do the pdf conversion. There is no charge for that service, and you can download the pdf file to check details before finalizing your project.

Then there was the cover. I’m also a Photoshop fanatic, and opted to create my own wrap-around cover rather than using the online wizard. I discovered more gremlins here, and none lived in Photoshop. The Lulu spec page for document dimensions lists measurements in pixels, inches, and centimeters, and it specifies 300 dpi resolution. The stated number of inches and centimenters does not correspond with the designated number of pixels at that ratio, nor are the inch and centimeter measurements equivalent with each other. “Go with the pixels,” advised an expert on the Lulu user forum. The explanation for the inconsistencies was balderdash.

As if that weren’t enough confusion, when I uploaded my finished cover file, the size requirement was stated in points. Both Acrobat and Photoshop told me my file was the specified size, but the Lulu interface claimed it had other dimensions, and they were not right. I finally worked through that challenge and clicked on order. I’m about to leave for a couple of weeks to help out with the birth of grandchild number six, and presumably my finished book will be waiting when I get home. You will most certainly hear my thoughts on the quality of the printed product (of course the quality of the contents is impeccable . . . ).

At this point, I’m still recommending Lulu for personal, short-run printings, primarily because I know of no viable alternative, and you can’t beat Lulu’s price. Hopefully the inconsistencies and confusion will diminish over time. For now, I do recommend sticking with their converters. Perhaps I’ll tinker with the cover wizard next month.

I’m especially pleased with the picture I used for the cover. I have only three color pictures of myself between the ages of two and six, and they were not suitable for a cover shot. So I improvised, and used Photoshop to “hand tint” my favorite. It took way longer than I intended, but I’m elated about the final result:

Original photo

Final result

I’ll be sharing further observations regarding the personal value I derived from writing about this simple, sublimely happy time. You already heard about my foray into the deserted barracks. I also found a couple of family history surprises, and encourage everyone to dig around in their past, be it happy or less so.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

The Project That Just Won't Quit

I wouldn’t call it The Project From Hell, not by a long shot. No, this personal project I’m trying to finish as a test run of Lulu.com’s on-line Print-On-Demand (POD) publishing services is more aptly named “The Project That Just Won't Quit.”

The final result, The Albuquerque Years, will be the culmination of my very first lifestory writing adventure, the story of my preschool years, begun over ten years ago. As I explain in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, I began writing this story as a whim, to be able to share my own experience as a very little girl with my then preschool-age grandchildren. I simply sat down at the computer and did a memory dump, in a haphazard fashion, without much order or thought.

Toward the end, I decided I wanted to include photos, lots of photos. At that point, WordPerfect stalled out on files with more than a few photos, so the story began breaking up into a vast array of pieces. In frustration, put it away to deal with later.

A few months ago, I became embarrassed about the fact that I, of all people, have not completed a single finished volume with a legacy of my own lifestories. I pulled out The Albuquerque Years project, determined to see it through to print. OpenOffice and Word are up to the challenge now, and Lulu presents a way of having it professionally printed and bound at an astonishingly affordable cost.

As I launched into what I thought would be a couple of days of final touches, I was chagrined to discover that I’d only told, at most, half the story. Over the course of a few weeks, I’ve doubled the length to 76 pages in Lulu’s Crown Quarto page size (7.44 x 9.68 in.), organized the stories to flow more smoothly, added several details, and inserted over forty photos. I converted the file to a PDF, after wading through Lulu’s occasionally conflicting instructions. (The live chat function works splendidly for clearing up any confusion.) I’ve almost finished a cover design.

At the last minute, I decided to add an Afterward to give background on the project and explain the process of setting it all up to work with Lulu. Perhaps future generations will appreciate this insight, and it will certainly be helpful to anyone today who wants to use Lulu for their own story albums. I’d hoped to announce a couple of days ago on the blog here that the upload had succeeded. Maybe tomorrow.
The morals of this story:

• There’s lots more to do to complete a published project after you finish the writing. Things always take twice as long as you anticipate.
• There is always something else to be done when you are getting a book finalized, whether it’s a commercial publication or something as private and personal as this project.

But it’s not the Project From Hell. It’s more like my flesh-and-blood offspring, who all took at least an extra week to grow to completion. But they all three arrived, strong and healthy, and so will this book! Persistence will ultimately prevail.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Earthworms and Ice Cream

For two days I’ve been struggling with a new post. It reminds me of the huge, fat earthworms that surface in our yard after a serious rainstorm. Those worms lie there ever so enticingly, but if I reach to pick one up (okay, I hear those twitters of revulsion: “Oh ugh! How utterly gross! I don’t even want to read this!” Hang in there — I’m almost done) it wriggles convulsively, throwing itself end-for-end across the rocks to get out of my reach. If, just for the heck of it and memories of childhood fishing days, I do manage to pick one up and plop it in the palm of my hand, it continues to thrash around with amazing strength, seeking to return to its loamy lair.

The essay I’m working on has the same slippery tenacity of those worms. I clearly see the concept, but as I reach for it, it skitters out of reach. I write a few words or paragraphs, but they slide out of grasp. It won’t hold still for the hook.

Fortunately, I have no true deadline for this piece. There is only one thing to do with such wriggly material: let it burrow back into the sanctuary of soil to continue developing. When the time is right, it will reemerge, ready to serve its ultimate purpose of attracting fish t0 feed a multitude.

Not surprisingly, the story I’m working on is about the emergence of light from darkness. It’s about finding gifts in the shadows of life and how to share them in helpful, meaningful ways, so the metaphor of the subterranean worm is apt.

I shall return to the topic, when it’s “ripe.” In the interim, I’ll continue to write, about other things, and other approaches to this elusive piece. Sometimes tough topics are like untying a knot. You nudge a little here, a little there, never forcing. It may take the patience of Job, but sooner or later, you touch just the right spot and it all falls open. Stories can be like that. Nudge, poke, let it rest, nudge again. And one day you find this amazing story staring back at you.

Meanwhile, I do have a little light for you today, of a less esoteric sort, and it should give you a good chuckle. Click over to the August 19 edition of the Pittsburgh Tribune Review to read my story of being Too Old for Ice Cream.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Take Care of Your Heart First

To my own amazement, I just noticed that the first anniversary of this blog flew by unnoticed by Yours Truly a week ago today. In 53 weeks, I've produced 117 posts. When you consider that for various reasons, there were six weeks when I didn't post at all, that's an average of about two-and-a-half per week, which is right on target for the two-to-three per week I aimed for.

If you've been following the blog for awhile, you may have noticed gaps. There was a gap of nearly a month last summer while I was on vacation. A more recent gap and general slow down has been due to the event generating “The story that must not be written.” The unfolding story remains intense and stressful for all concerned.

In such stressful times, it's difficult to garner creative energies. It's not so much a matter of writer's block as preoccupation and lower energy levels. I can still sit down and write about other things, but it takes more energy, and my endurance is definitely affected. I can't concentrate for hours at a time as I generally do.

My situation is only unique in specific content. No matter how organized they are, anyone working on a longterm life story writing project is going to hit similar times. Perhaps it's a personal illness. Perhaps someone in the family has a health crisis requiring lots of time and attention. Perhaps things at work hit panic levels, or a love affair heads south.

During these times you are likely to have days when sitting down to write is simply more than you can face. What should you do? Back off! Be kind to yourself. Don't quit entirely, but keep your efforts simple. Jot a few notes. Go through your story ideas. Spend a few minutes editing an old story.

Make yourself a promise to get back to your schedule by a certain date. Write that date on your calendar. If the time comes and the situation hasn't eased, renegotiate. Yes, you'll lose momentum and fall behind schedule, but worse things have happened. Your stories come from your heart, and when your heart is elsewhere, your stories won't flow well. Take care of your heart first, and the stories will return.

Having written that, I've discovered anew that as long as I was thinking of you and writing this message for you, I have remained focused, and the words have flowed. Perhaps that's the key: My love and concern for you, my readers, is strong enough to overcome my preoccupation and restores my sense of joy in writing. My heart has reengaged with writing.

Give it a try. Think of those you love and focus on giving them the joy of reading your story. That joy will flow forth from some eternal well and uplift your spirit as well as theirs.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Just an Hour a Week

This is a day that the Lord hath made.
Let us rejoice and write stories in it.

— Sharon Lippincott

I've had a busy week. Our daughter was here for Thanksgiving with her toddler and husband, and shortly after they left, I came down with a bug (fortunately short-lived). Consequently, I haven't spent time writing for a week now. This could have been a disaster for the blog, but fortunately I had a small backlog that I could pop into place with a few clicks of my mouse. My backlog is now depleted, but it won't stay that way long. I woke up with my head simply buzzing with blog/story ideas.

Knowing all too well how important it is to honor my muse Sarabelle when she pays me a visit, especially such a bountiful one, I headed straight to my computer and started half a dozen new posts. If my backlog gets too full, I'll simply post more often for awhile.

One of the insights she gifted me with was the fact that I now have ninety-four posts in this blog, which began on February 7, 2006, less than ten months ago. That's an average of approximately one post every three days. The posts average 407 words. A page of normally formatted text (Times Roman Font, 12 point, normal line spacing, one-inch margins all around) will average around 660 words per page. A page following my recommended formatting* with a wider typeface like Georgia (used in this blog), 11 point, with 15 point line spacing and one-inch margins all around will average about 550 words per page, 500 with chapter titles and section headers. Given these statistics, the current contents of this blog would fill about 80 pages with my recommended formatting.

I seldom spent more than twenty minutes per post, sometimes less, so I wrote about an hour a week on this blog. In about forty weeks I've written and edited around eighty pages of text, spending only an hour a week doing it. That's two pages per week, or about one hundred pages a year.

Just think what you can do if you write just an hour a week for, let's say, ten years! Even if you write at half the speed I do, you'll have an amazing stack of pages. Now, isn't that news enough to get those fingers clicking? Rejoice and ...

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

* Full details on this recommended formatting and how to use Microsoft Word, OpenOffice Write or WordPerfect to make it happen are included in my soon-to-be-released book, The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. Stay tuned for ordering information.