An Empty Wallet Is No Excuse

Passion soared when I read this Facebook comment:

Being a writer is my dream. But I can’t afford to take writing classes.

I was not the only one to reply. The following list includes points made in other responses along with additional thoughts of my own:

• Anyone who makes words visible on screen or paper is a writer. You do not need to be published.
• Your local library is full of books about how to write.
• The web is full of blogs, tutorials, newsletters, free webinars, and other resources to sharpen writing skills.
• Whether you can afford to take classes or not, find a local writing group. I summarize their benefits in this post.
• Do a web search to look for a group, and also ask at your library. All the dozen-plus successful memoir/lifestory writing groups I’ve been involved with have been library sponsored.
• Keep an eye open for free or nearly so classes. Senior centers and community colleges are likely locales.
• Online writing groups may be as good or better than local ones.
• Check sites like the ones on this list for free on-line writing classes targeted to specific skill topics.
• Search for “free online memoir writing courses” to find free classes and groups. Caveat: free classes are often a come-on for pricey follow-up classes and/or coaching services. Take advantage of what you can get and keep expectations low.

So, you see, you can learn to write well with an empty wallet. Don’t put it off. Start now. Eventually you can even publish for absolutely free via CreateSpace and Kindle, though you’re likely to attract more readers with a small investment in a good cover and some editing beyond what your writing group and beta readers can give you. Your own efforts are perfectly acceptable for limited family and friends’ distribution.

Beyond any thoughts of publication, WRITING IS GOOD FOR YOUR HEALTH. I’ve written extensively about that, especially in my archived blog, Writing for the Health of It.

Now you know an empty wallet is no excuse. What else might be holding you back from following your dream of becoming a writer?

Image by Damon D’Amato, http://ow.ly/vzrI30f4kMT, used by permission via Creative Commons license.

Ten Years of Lessons about Lifestory Writing, Part 1

As I consider lessons I’ve learned about the heart of lifestory writing, I think back to the first class I taught for the Carnegie Mellon University Osher Program ten years ago. I’d taught several classes on this topic before without qualms. But here . . . at Carnegie Mellon . . .  ropes of anxiety bound my chest. My Inner Critic exploded to life:

What do you really know? What are YOU doing in these hallowed halls? You might bluff your way through a Senior Center class, but this is CARNEGIE MELLON. They expect the best. They expect EXPERTISE!

In case that wasn’t enough, within minutes one woman in that first class boldly announced that she had just graduated from the University of Pittsburgh’s nationally renowned MFA program in creative non-fiction.

You’re screwed! She knows more than you do, and she’ll know you’re a fake. Quick! Run out of the room RIGHT NOW! Go home and don’t answer the phone for a year.

I’m not a quitter! I’ll give it my best shot, and we’ll see where it goes. Besides, with that one possible exception, I know more about lifestory writing than anyone in this room, and that’s something. 

Taking a deep breath, I plunged in. I was weeks away from the official release date for The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, published by Lighthouse Point Press. I knew quite a lot, but Inner Critics are hard to placate or silence. I took a deep breath and plunged in after explaining that although I knew a lot, I didn’t know everything, that I continued to learn more, and we’d all learn from each other.

The class went well. CMU Osher invited me to teach again. And again. Eventually I also taught for the University of Pittsburgh Osher LLI program, across Panther Hollow from CMU. Teaching for the Osher programs at CMU and Pitt are among my most treasured memories of the years I spent in Pittsburgh. I’d always dreamed of teaching at an esteemed university. That dream came true in an unexpected and welcome way. As classes progressed, some students were new, but many returned, time after time. “I don’t write when I’m not in a class, and I always learn something new in yours.”

Well, yes. They learned something new because I continue to learn something new and share what I learn. May that always be so! Much of what I learned came from reading their stories with them. I recently stopped to survey what I’ve learned over the past ten years. Some lessons come from experience and others from newly published research. It’s challenging to sort them into a linear list, because many are intertwined, but I’ve given it my best shot and you can read the first four of ten items on the list below:

1) You don’t learn this stuff all at once — I began with piles of short stories. I polished them as well as I knew how. And I kept reading and writing and revising. I learned about scenes and story arc and building stronger connection with readers. I discovered that the more I wrote, the more perspective I gained on life and myself. What a bonus! The adventure continues, and I hope I never quit learning.

2) You don’t learn this stuff alone – I’m more firmly convinced than ever that writing is best done as a collaborative, team sport. You can improve your writing by yourself, but you’ll learn more and learn faster in a class or a writing group. At the very least, find some trusted critique partners online.

3) One of the best ways to improve your writing is to read – Painters study works of the masters to learn technique. Writers can do the same thing. Find fiction or memoir writers you love and pay attention to how they structure stories and use words to pull you in. Read voraciously and constantly. Join a book group.

4) Importance of clear purpose and focus — I learned this more deeply from reading students’ stories than my own. Some stories seemed to ramble without any point. “What are you trying to tell us? What’s the most important thing you want readers to remember?” I ask. They get it.

To be continued in the next post.

By the way, that MFA grad? I quickly discovered that she had not covered this subject in her studies. Furthermore, I couldn’t tell from her stories that she’d ever had a class of any sort. Who knows? Moral of that story? Never make assumptions! Claim whatever power you have and forge ahead.

What writing life lessons have you learned? I invite you to share in a comment.

Start the New Year Write

What do you plan to write in 2017? Are you setting writing resolutions for the year?

I gave up setting formal New Year’s Resolutions decades ago, but I still do spend some time thinking about what the year may hold and what I’d like to get done. My intentions for 2016 were to get settled in a new home and new community. That included finding local writing community.

The year unfolded just as I’d intended. As 2017 rolls in, I do feel settled. I still have a few embellishments to complete, but my previously adobe-colored office is now a cheery pale lemon ice with yards of white shelves on the walls. It has become the comfortable, creativity enhancing “room of my own” that I’ve always dreamed of having, and I no longer share space with the laundry.

Sure enough, community roots are spreading. I found a wonderful book club at my local library branch. We’ve connected with several neighbors in our larger community. We’re enjoying family events.

Starting to teach again…
I was unsure whether I wanted to return to teaching after our move, but Olga Wise, a writer friend I made at the 2008 Story Circle conference, insisted I get involved with Austin’s Lifetime Learning Institute (LLI), the rough equivalent of the Osher programs I was involved with in Pittsburgh. I’m forever grateful to Olga. That energizing experience reminded me why I love teaching lifestory writing.

You know how sometimes things seem preordained? I began mentioning to people I met in random places that I was teaching a lifestory writing class. “When are you doing it again? I’ve been looking for something like that!” I told them about LLI and took their names. I already knew demand is high. LLI offered three classes on some aspect of life writing last fall, and all were filled to capacity. Mine had 19 sign up with a limit of 18, and nobody here knew who I was.

That obvious enthusiasm nudged me to contact the program manager for Austin Public Libraries to explore possibilities for setting up library sponsored lifestory writing groups in branches. We concurred that starting small makes sense. Valentine’s week I’ll begin leading free, six-week classes in two library locations, with the stated goal that they’ll transform into self-sufficient, self-sustaining, ongoing writing groups when the classes end. We’ll see how that goes.

Meanwhile, about half the fall LLI class decided to keep meeting and they have become an officially sanctioned library group in a third location.

What about you?
What writing projects do you envision starting and/or completing in 2017? If you leave a brief comment about your hopes or committed plans, you’ll strengthen the likelihood you’ll actually  get them done.

If you don’t already have a project in mind, I have a suggestion: Finish an anthology of two dozen stories and use CreateSpace to print copies for family holiday gifts next year.

What have you accomplished in 2016? Toot your horn in a comment!

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?

Reading and Writing Across the Gender Divide

I just read “Asteroids Falling Up,” a short story by Pittsburgh author Dave Newman,  in The New Yinzer, an online literary magazine  published here in Pittsburgh. My eyeballs occasionally bulged as I read this risqué coming of age piece.

This story punched windows into walls of reticence as I read. Perhaps, I thought, I can write more boldly – on other topics. Whether fiction or memoir, Newman’s compelling story would not ring true or have such impact had he toned down or skirted his topic.

I mention this story, this experience, to illustrate the value of reading across the gender divide. As a writer I benefit from exposure to a wide variety of ideas, perspectives and writing styles. I could never get this credibly bold glimpse into a developing male psyche from anything written by a woman.

Which brings me to writing groups and classes. I’ve been teaching memoir and creative writing classes for over fifteen years, all but a couple with mixed groups. Like Marion Roach Smith, I use the laboratory method for teaching memoir: students write stories on topics of their choice and read them aloud in class for group discussion. Some might assume mixed groups would stifle the range of topics. Experience has proven otherwise.

Thousands of stories have reflected a cross-section of life, often sweet, maybe salty, sometimes humorous, occasionally spicy or painful. Women have written about abuse, grief, rape, abortion, menopause, sex and more. Men have written about abuse, grief, humiliation, disabilities, sex, and more. In every case, classmates of both genders have responded with support and acceptance. After deeply intimate disclosures I’ve checked with individuals. Each said s/he felt relieved and validated to have shared the story. Several said the mixed group was an unexpected comfort.

Not everyone shares this view. “Many women have been traumatized by men and they need the safety of a women’s group to heal,” I’m told. Maybe so, especially if the deeper purpose is therapy. Maybe that’s true for certain men too. Some organizations offer support exclusively to women, assuming some will need this safe haven – or just want to hang out and write with the gals. Men must find their own way through the storm.

Sharing nascent stories and receiving encouragement and acceptance powerfully energizes group members and builds deep bonds of camaraderie and compassion. My hope and dream is that over time we’ll all feel strong enough to share stories about anything with anyone, especially across the gender and other divides. How else will we understand, accept, and possibly forgive those who are different? How will we fully heal from abusive treatment of whatever sort or degree without at least symbolically confronting perpetrators? Writing buddies and classmates make splendid stand-ins.

My interest in the topic of exclusion and personal experience with being excluded is deepening and intersects with the writing community. As I continue to write and explore, I’m saddened and embarrassed by the divide posed by women’s writing organizations that exclude men seeking support such as they offer. How could I tell a mixed class that some of them might benefit from membership in a national organization, but “no boys are allowed”? No way! I dream of the time these organizations will find a way to meet individual needs while also building bridges across the divide as the National Association of Memoir Writers (NAMW) is already attempting to do.

I encourage you to read across the gender divide to limber your write brain and broaden your perspective. Let Dave Newman punch windows in your walls.

Write now: without naming organizations, write a comment as long as you wish about your writing group experience. Have they been a help or hindrance? What would an ideal group be like for you? Mixed or single sex? Further explore your thoughts in essay form, for yourself or to share.

Image credit: “Writing Group” by James Mitchell, Creative Commons license

When You Are Not Writing

“What are we both doing right now?” asked a friend during a Skype session the other day.

“Holding a conversation…”

“We are talking about writing. We are NOT WRITING!”

Oh! Yeah. I got the message. In our defense, the logistics we were discussing were important, but indeed, we were not writing. We continued to talk a few more minutes about all the things we do that aren’t writing, such as:

• Run to the grocery store to buy last-minute items for the dinner we just decided to fix.
• Finally remember to put in (or take out or fold) that load of laundry.
• Finally remember to call and make a dentist appointment.
• Send out publicity for an event.
• Vacuum the floor.
• Clean the car windshield – inside and out – and then vacuum the car interior.
• Meet a friend for coffee.
• Check Facebook.
• Scan the news.
• Work a Sudoku, play “one game!” of FreeCell, etc.

That’s a very short list. Then we logged off of Skype with the promise that we’d touch bases in two hours with reports of how much writing we had gotten done.

That’s a glance at my life, and I claim that I write all the time. Usually I’d rather be writing than doing laundry, fixing dinner or any of those things on the list. But sometimes things just jam up.

So what’s a person to do when things jam up?

In a word, JUST DO IT. Sit down and write! Here are a few other ideas, in no particular order, to help you power through when you jam up:

• Make a list. Maybe it’s a To Do list that you can go back to after you write. The list will set your mind at rest, knowing you won’t forget anything. Maybe it’s a Story Idea List, or a list of topics or concepts you want to cover as you write.
• Set a timer. Some of my best writing has happened when I know I only have ten or fifteen minutes. It’s easier to stay focused when you know the duration is short.
• Switch modes. If you usually write on a keyboard, pick up a pen or pencil and a piece of paper. Writing with one hand on paper involves more areas of your brain. Each mode has advantages. Draw on them both.
• Check your Story Idea List for inspiration.
• Join a writing group. I actively participate in one group and mentor many more. Nearly all members agree that the group gives them a deadline that keeps them on track.
• Start a writing group. This isn’t as hard as it seems. Send me an email if you want a how-to kit.
• Take a writing class. This may seem like another delaying technique, but most classes encourage your to write and new ideas from class can jump-start motivation.
• Find a writing partner. Online partners work equally as well as local ones. Make a contract with each other agreeing to hold each other accountable and cheer each other on. This doesn’t mean you have to write five hours a day. Even once a week can be enough.
• Sit down and write. Sit in your chair. Open a new document or find a fresh sheet of paper. Start moving your fingers and do some free writing or writing practice.
• Start a new story. If the story, chapter or scene you’ve been working on has stalled you out, put it in the stable to rest and ride forth on a fresh horse. You can come back and tend the tired one later, after you’ve both rested.
• Make a mind-map. Use online software if you like, but I still like paper.

You can learn more about all of these and other tips in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing.

Now, with all of these tips at your disposal, you have no excuse. Get those fingers moving.

Write now: sit down and WRITE! Add to a current story, start a new one, edit an old one, do writing practice. It doesn’t matter what you do or how long you spend, for ten times, ten hours or ten days, just WRITE!

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!

Breathe Life Into Stories

Your story seems flat. You knew that even before writing group members confirmed your suspicion. You’ve been working on descriptions. You’ve double-checked details to be sure give readers have a clear picture of the situation.

You’ve scattered plenty of sensory description through your story, without clumping it or making it sound like you used a checklist. It still seems flat and shallow. How can you make it pop off the page? What magic will breathe life into it and connect with readers?

A clue to a solution lies in this excerpt from a scene in Dinty Moore’s memoir, The Accidental Buddhist, where Moore is being exposed to the ancient art of meditation in a Buddhist monastery:

… I turn out to have a particularly unrelenting monkey. He not only swings from tree to tree, he rips off big green leaves and chatters at the top of his monkey lungs, an angry baboon somehow set loose in an espresso bar.

Zen students will immediately recognize this monkey as a metaphor for the state of Moore’s mind. That metaphor brings mental chaos into focus as something tangible, something we can see and hear, and at least imagine touching and smelling.

Moore’s static image of  sitting zazen on a zafu* snaps to life with this metaphor. I hope he will forgive me for taking the liberty of publicly imagining how he might have initially written the thought in that paragraph:

… I have a terrible case of monkey mind. I can’t stay focused on anything for longer than a second….

That simple statement would suffice to describe the situation, but it leaves me yawning and my monkey mind swings into another tree, maybe to find coconuts to lob at his. In the completed version, his napkin sketch image has become a mind movie with depth and dimension as the monkey swings from tree to tree, rips leaves and chatters.

Some simpler examples:

Her eyes were lively.	Her eyes sparkled.
The scene was picturesque.	Hundred-foot oaks and maples stood guard behind the cabin, wildflowers dotted the meadow, and …
The scent of wild roses was in the air.	Wild roses wafted scent through the air.

The first two examples above use a form of “to be” to link to an adjective describing the subject. In the third example, “in the air” is an participial phrase that tells where the scent was. Don’t worry about remembering that term. The important thing is that functionally the phrase gives additional information about the subject without imparting any sense of vitality.

Using a “be” verb this way is grammatically correct and adds variety in sentence structure, but this wording has a calming effect. Switching to an active verb, as the second column shows, is one of the many ways to liven up your language.

Keep an eye out for was, were, and related forms that link to subject modifiers, and replace them with stronger verbs and additional details when appropriate.

Write now: Review a story you wrote and underline each place you use a verb that links to an adjective or other subject modifier. Circle each active linking verb (smells, feels, proves …). Rewrite the other sentences to include some motion or sense of action.

*Standard usage puts foreign words in italics. Adding the English translation immediately after the italicized term is optional. Whichever form you choose, be consistent throughout your story.

Dancing in the Rain

Elizabeth-Anne Kim recently published two collections of life stories, DANCING IN THE RAIN (free Kindle download Thanksgiving Day through Sunday, Nov. 25, 2012) and WHAT MY MOTHER DIDN’T KNOW, as Kindle Shorts. These memoir pieces were largely unplanned. In this guest post, she explains how incidental writing can turn into something surprising.

If you can be an accidental life story writer, that's what I am. I didn't mean to publish independently either; it just sort of happened.

After nearly four years in Korea, my husband and I transitioned our family back to the United States in the spring of 2010.  I found myself in a new setting with two children who needed me close at hand. Traditional career options were not going to work. I decided to try writing. I had previously done a bit of writing work, and I felt pretty confident in my ability to transition back and forth between genres.

What I didn't feel comfortable with was my ability to stick to a deadline all by myself.

ADHD runs in my family, and I desperately need deadlines, lists, and accountability. Finding writing groups I could join with two little boys in tow was difficult. Finding writing groups that met consistently was even harder! Fortunately, I ran across a life writing group at a nearby library that met religiously on the second and fourth Wednesday of the month. Proud to have found a group that would give me a solid writing deadline, I told myself I could learn to write memoir.

I did learn. Sharon's book, The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, has helped. I am writing a full-length memoir—but this isn't it. Once again, serendipity stepped in. In response to a county library initiative, our life story group concept was expanding to other libraries. I started facilitating a life writing group at my own local library, and I needed some stories that were more relevant to the general population. Those stories essentially boiled down to my stories as a child and my stories as a parent.

Until that point, I had only blogged about my children, who are bright, creative, active little boys who also happen to have some mental health issues. Reactions from the writing group and others in the community cemented two things for me. First, many parents are grappling with mental health issues in their children now. Secondly, while there are plenty of heartbreaking memoirs out there and lots of self-help books for children with ADHD and spectrum disorders, very few people are writing about the joy found in life with these children. And that was my intent—to connect with others who were determined to enjoy their sometimes rather difficult children.

I began with four solid stories. I thought about building up enough stories for a complete memoir, a feat which would require quite a bit of time and would have no guarantee of eventual publishing success. I thought of my community. Those of us struggling now need encouragement now, not a few years down the road.

That conviction in and of itself, however, probably wouldn't have pushed me to publish independently either.

I was convinced instead by a combination of an upcoming project in our life writing group that I would like to convert to book form (and would therefore need a book to practice on first!) combined with Will Bevis's Kindle Shorts. If you haven't read Will Bevis's work, please do! It's hilarious, and I never begrudge the $0.99 I spend on it. In fact, I appreciate the brevity of the pieces. I will finish his work (and laugh the whole time).

With the project looming over my head, I began investigating the Kindle Short and Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP). It requires no initial monetary investment by the writer, takes care of all the sales taxes and online sales, and offers free promotions. It merely requires that there be no other electronic formats of one's e-book out there while that e-book is enrolled in KDP. So essentially, you can publish and un-publish in KDP. It allows me to get stuff out there in a format to test the waters. If I decide that I want to expand this material, which I think I'm going to do, it allows me to incorporate it into something larger by taking it down at the end of my contract period and putting it in a different format. It also allows me to test my voice as well as give a preview. As I write that longer memoir, I'm thinking of taking the stories that don't fit and putting them into a Kindle Short to use as a promotional piece later on. KDP will NOT work for my group project, but it has really allowed me to enter publishing at the shallow end of the pool. I'm extremely grateful for that.

Like many authors, I'm a little overwhelmed at the promotional end of the publishing process, but I think that KDP offers the perfect place to start. I have no initial costs to pay back, so my mistakes in promotions are not disastrous to my bank account. Because I'm confident in my stories, I'm satisfied that putting them out there, in whatever small capacity, will eventually help build my career, and I fully expect that as I publish more, the books will sell each other.

Elizabeth-Anne Kim, mother, writer, editor, teacher, records her personal thoughts at Kim Kusli, her pedagogical reflections at Umm, Teacher?, and tips for life writers at Lives in Letters. She is also currently coordinating the Share a Pair of Stories initiative.

Write now: Write about something annoying and go on to find the joy in it. Write about your most recent annoyance and include thoughts on how your attitudes might seem when viewed from another perspective. Empathize with yourself and gain a big picture attitude. Then turn your frustrations into a story we can all laugh along with by walking us through the whole situation with a few well-placed asides.

No Two People Read the Same Story

“Oh dear, that must have been so painful!” murmured Laura (not her real name) after I finished reading a story to our writing group. Her tone oozed compassion, and I saw a couple of eyebrows raise quizzically as others turned to look at her. I appreciated her response, though feeling it was off target.

“Actually, it wasn’t,” I demurred,“at least not on a conscious level.”

That experience brought home a crucial fact we must keep in mind as we write. We can spend years honing our Truth and writing our stories with finesse worthy of a Pulitzer, but we can’t control readers’ perceptions.

Readers hear their own story in ours.

This is not news. Mayhem at Camp RYLA, an essay I wrote years ago, is based on first-hand experience with differences in the way individuals witnessed a shared experience.

I wrote that essay years ago, and since then I’ve learned that neuroscientists have not only confirmed the validity of my observations, they have explained them. We compare new input to existing memories and information in order to catalog it for future retrieval. This classification process filters the input to fit with what we already know and does so along multiple dimensions.

Laura has never written about her childhood, and I’m guessing it was not entirely happy.  That could explain why she found my story so painful while I, the one who lived the story, did not. She was probably hearing her story as I read.

Another possible factor

Another factor may be involved in this interchange. Some people are more keenly attuned to emotions than others. It’s sort of like eating chili. My mouth is lined with asbestos. Habañero peppers are a little over the top for me, but I love jalapeños. In contrast, some people I know think a sprinkle of  black pepper on mashed potatoes is living dangerously. Emotionally Laura may be a black pepper person.

Implications for writers

While you have little control over this, you can monitor the emotional tone of your story to make sure it accurately reflects your own feelings. Have you reflected sufficiently on them? Did you give careful thought to the words you used, or tap in the first one that came to mind? You may need to add or subtract a few story components to get the balance right.

For example, I’ve read three or four stories to this group from a memoir I’m drafting. The stories were about my mother. After the last one, Laura mentioned that my mother was a cold, unfeeling person. I was stunned! But even aside from knowing about Laura’s filters, I could see how she would get that impression from the limited selection of stories I’d shared.  Her input alerted me to be aware of this factor as I compile memoir material and to be even more thorough in examining the element of emotional reflection.

Bottom line: write your story with gusto, realizing that each reader will get a slightly different message from it, some quite different from the one you intended. This is no reflection on your skill as a writer. Think of your writing as the gift of a mirror you give to readers to make sense of their experiences in light of yours. Strong reactions from readers mean that you are stimulating them and creating emotional connections, and isn’t that a goal we all strive for?

Write now: think of a memoir or novel you’ve recently read that you related strongly to. Jot down some thoughts about how the material you recall related to your life and how reading this story changed your outlook on something. Expand your thoughts to how your life story may impact your readers.

Photo credit: Jayel Aheram

Giving Helpful Feedback

Kathy Pooler’s Memoir Writer’s Journey blog post, “The Art of Constructive Feedback in Writing and in Life”, blew me away. Everyone who works with children in any capacity should read her account of the way her grandson’s soccer coach interacts with his team. Everyone who works with people should read the post and pay close attention to the juxtaposition of that style with the feedback she got on an early writing assignment that shut her down for decades.

Her post especially hit the spot because I’ve been deeply reminded lately that strong writing – deep, meaningful writing – generally benefits from feedback of one sort or another, and yet awkwardly given feedback can do more harm than good. In an attempt to prevent such a negative outcome, writing classes I teach, I always give each student a copy of the follow  Feedback Ground Rules:

• Stories you hear in this room stay in this room! This is crucially important for classes and writing groups to ensure people feel safe enough to share honestly and openly. This caution is not just about story content, it’s about writing skills. Who wants to run the risk that a fellow writer or student might blab to others the sort of thing your own Inner Critic is screaming? You need to respect everything about the writing process. If you want to share an amazing story, ask the author. Most likely the answer will be yes.
• Be care-fully honest. Don’t white wash your feedback, but strive for compassion and tenderness when you point out aspects of a story that don’t work for you.
• State at least two or three strong points for each piece. This may include memorable (velcro) words and phrases, a feature of the story structure, great description, moving content, anything at all.
• Limit comments about needed improvements to the two or three most compelling ones. Respect each person’s need to grow writing skills gradually.
• Avoid opinion — I like it, I didn’t like it, that was a great story. Opinion isn’t inherently bad, it’s just too easy to fall back on opinion rather than exert the mental effort to quantify why you liked or disliked a piece.
• Tell how you felt about it — how it affected you. Were you inspired, amused, touched, saddened … ?
• What worked especially well?
• Did the story seem to be missing anything?
• What one or two things can you suggest to make it even better?
• Avoid the temptation to start telling related stories — make a note of them on your story idea list.

That last item is not specifically related to feedback, but it is a frequent sidetrack in classes and writing groups. I encourage people to keep paper handy to write these ideas down while they’re fresh so they can go home and write the stories.These same rules work with one-on-one critiquing, although in this case, you may do more line-editing. Find out from the author just what information he or she needs and wants. If it’s an early draft, there’s no point in pointing out every missing comma. Stick with conceptual and structural comments.

Should you find yourself in an unenlightened group and be subjected to a barrage of negativity, have a firm talk with your Inner Critic. Tell her something like “Consider the source. Some of those comments were valid, but I’m not going to throw the baby out with the bathwater, and I’m' not going to assume their mean spirits meant anything other than that they don’t know much about how to be helpful. I’ll keep writing.” You may bring this up with the group and suggest some ground rules (you are welcome to copy the ones above), or you may just find a new group.

Be kind with yourself and others, be patient with all concerned, and remember that neither writing nor feedback skills are mastered in a single sitting.

Write now: jot down some thoughts about feedback experiences you’ve had. Were they negative or positive? If they were negative, use the “Is it true” technique to explore the implications.

The Tip of the Iceberg

The material that makes it into a finished memoir is like the tip of the iceberg, representing only 10% to 20% of the relevant material. Deciding what to include and what to omit is a major challenge for anyone aspiring to write memoir.

Many factors go into this decision. Three of the most important are retaining focus on the primary story, controlling length, and respecting personal privacy of self and others in the story. My purpose here is not to explore these factors, but to share my experience reading a memoir that disappointed me by leaving too much ice under the water, resulting in a flat, confusing berg of a book that probably won’t get much notice.

I won’t identify the book, and say only that it was about the disintegration of a marriage and the author’s eventual realization that although she couldn’t fix the marriage, she could and would fix herself. Bravo!  I hope that writing the memoir was a big step along that path.

The disappointment springs from the fact that the author stayed so intensely focused on the month or six weeks during which the marriage ground to its ultimate conclusion that she failed to include background information that would put these weeks of personal agony into context. I know the couple had moved to a new state a year or so earlier, but nothing about their life together prior to the move, and little about it in the new location prior to these climatic weeks. She fleetingly mentions that she used to have a good job, but I had no idea what that was.

She mentions money in an account that belonged to her that she’d promised to give her husband – or something like that. His mother knew the whole story, but he didn’t, and readers know only that there is a mystery. She never says what it is or how it happens that there is still money belonging to her in an account he purportedly had drained.

More mysteries arise in the concluding chapters when she infers that he had left her a few times before, but again, no details are given.

Then there is the matter of sex. Now I’m one of the last people to suggest that sex is a necessary component  of a memoir, and I’ll be the first to blush if you include details. But when a couple is slipping into bed together the first night of a reconciliation and she seems thrilled at the fact he’s simply lying there beside her drifting off to sleep with her hand on his shoulder … a key element is missing. I don’t know if this is normal and a reason they remain childless, or perhaps she’s omitting  a key detail, or … Shucks, if nothing happened, let us know that much. There was just no contact at all beyond a couple of pecks and sterile hugs.

These are not the only loose ends, but they are the major ones. I have no idea why so much was left out, but I felt teased and led on. I wanted her to go back and finish the book. It was quite short as it was, barely over 200 very small pages – maybe 33,000 words. It could have been half again as long without seeming wordy.

It’s not possible to write a story that doesn’t leave a certain number of unexplored side paths, but a well-crafted one gives enough of a view up those paths to round out the main story without distracting side trips.

One of the roles I play for my coaching clients is pointing out where they have holes in their stories and loose ends such as this one had. Editors should be able to do the same. But you don’t need to rely on paid professionals. When you think your story is finished, as good as you can make it, you should have two or more trusted people read it to find structural inconsistencies, loose ends and holes in the story.

Family members may be great for proof reading, but the best hole finders are people who don’t know the history you are writing about. People in your reading group will be great helps, but I’d suggest calling in a couple of people who know are completely new to the manuscript. Listen to their input, then make your own decisions about what to do.

These extra eyes will make sure the important ice is on the top of your berg, your readers will feel satisfied, and your book will receive the notice it deserves.

Write now: make a list of people you could call on as beta readers when you have a finished manuscript. If you aren’t close to that stage, let the list be an incentive and keep scanning for willing and able readers in the meantime..

Photo credit:  Liam Quinn

Fireflies and the Power of Story

What else holds the fascination of fireflies? Once again they light the night with mysterious flashes. One unforgettable night a few years ago I glanced out the window and saw several dozen fireflies blinking their little hearts out. I'd never seen so many in our yard at once. and I stood transfixed. Watching this fascinating show. I soon noticed that they were flashing in cycles of six blinks in three seconds, then idling for about ten seconds before repeating the sequence. They weren’t moving around much. Once in awhile I saw one blink through the air like a plane approaching the runway, but most hovered in the same spot indefinitely.

Eventually I spotted a pattern involving maybe two dozen fireflies flashing a complicated sequence of blinks. This rhythmic frenzy of flashing started in the same place every ten to twelve seconds, and though it became intuitively predictable, it was too complicated to remember. Alien code? Could be! I thought of the light show and intergalactic concert ending of the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind, recalling how sound and light bridged the communication barrier between different life forms.

Nearly thirty years ago I discovered Theomatics, an arcane library book demonstrating that both Hebrew and Latin words can be converted to numerical values. So can light waves, sound waves, and even matter (using atomic weights). We all understand the concept of writing music on staffs, a form of graphical notation. Color could be graphed in a similar way, using the numerical values of specific color tones. It is hardly a stretch of the imagination to consider translating our thoughts to Latin or Hebrew and graphing numerical word values.

I envision mind-boggling symphonies of light and sound transmitting pure thought-waves, beaming light and love through the universe. Perhaps the firefly symphony I saw was a demonstration of this possibility — a demonstration conducted in yellowish green and black, much like early computer monitors.

My thoughts turn a corner to my writing groups, both local and online, formal and ad hoc. I think of our stories as dots of light, building bridges between people. They create a web of links between us wherever we are, and that web will grow larger as they shine forth to others. Each time we share stories, we create a symphony of life, with each story carrying part of the tune. I hear everything, from lullabies, to stirring storms, combining in perfect harmony, creating something greater than the sum of the parts. As we write and share, our stories show us life and the past from new angles, hopefully wiser stronger ones. We light each others lives by sharing hope, love and humor. My life is better for the writing and sharing.

I think of the song, “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing”, and edit it ever so slightly. “I’d like to teach the world to write, in perfect love and truth.” How could peace and harmony not result?

Write now: about fireflies, dreams, visions, love, peace, truth, or anything else noble and exalting that comes to mind. Share your story with at least one other person, maybe in email, maybe in person. Let your stories build bonds.

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.

Writing Group Profile: The Hale Street Gang

Kickoff event for Hale Street Gang anthology:
Sara Tucker, standing, Idora Tucker, right

Today we have a guest post written by Sara Tucker, author of The Hale Street Gang and Me blog. In this post, Sarah tells the story of the origins of the Hale Street Gang, a remarkable group of life writers that I discovered last fall when I visited the remarkable show of their work at the Vermont Folklife Center in Middlebury, Vermont. After viewing the exhibit and surfing Sara’s blog, I was so impressed with what they have accomplished, I had to know more.

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In the fall of 2008, my mother and I signed up for a memoir-writing class at the senior center in the little town of Randolph, Vermont. Six weeks later the class ended, the instructor left, and we were on our own. Because I am a professional writer, the others decided that I would be their leader. At 56, I was the youngest in the group by about 30 years.

Since then, the members of the Hale Street Gang (as we now call ourselves) have published seven books and started a blog. We’ve read our work on college campuses and on the air. We’ve toured the state in partnership with the Vermont Folklife Center, encouraging other seniors to write down their stories. We’ve been a hundred times more prolific and had way more fun than we ever imagined on that September morning when our first class convened.

I asked one of the members to help me account for our success, and she came up with the following explanation, which happens to mention me several times. It should be noted that the writer is my mother, Idora Tucker. Mom gave me strict orders not to omit the paragraphs about Yours Truly (I wouldn’t dare). Here’s what she wrote:

“We are a diverse group of oldsters. We write during the week and read the results to one another in our weekly gatherings, allowing time for discussion of each manuscript and encouragement for each writer. We expect regular attendance, bringing some writing to the group each week. It is understood that what we read to the group will not be shared any further without the permission of the writer. We have no firm assignments, although we occasionally do a writing exercise for fun and inspiration. Our focus is on telling the stories of our own lives as we remember them.”

My mother then goes on to enumerate our accomplishments thus: “Early in our history a high school friend of Sara’s, well-known professional photographer Jack Rowell, became interested in our group. He and Sara teamed up with the Vermont Folklife Center to mount an exhibit of our work. Starting with that project Sara became our volunteer general manager. Not only does she lead the weekly meetings of the writers, but she is also our publicist, our chief fund-raiser, and the coordinator of everything we do. Sara edited an anthology entitled The Hale Street Gang: In Cahoots and arranged for its publication. She helped me to publish four small volumes of my memoirs, written for my children and grandchildren. Another member has published a memoir about bringing up her daughter, born with Down’s syndrome. Our Gang meets with various groups to present our work; Sara arranges these events. In addition, she has published her own memoir, Our House in Arusha, We consider ourselves a success, not only in terms of our output, but also judging from the fact that we are still meeting, still growing in numbers, and receiving increasing recognition. And our work is selling!

“Most of us have thought that no one would be interested in our writing. Not true. We have thought we could not write. Also not true, as we all have found out when we sit down to write. Details that we thought we had completely left behind come crowding back, wanting to get into the manuscript and to be shared with our small group. In the process we learn not just about our fellow writers, but about ourselves. I am finding it to be one of the most rewarding activities of my old age.”

My mother, who is 90 and brings several new pages to the group every week, offers this advice to aspiring memoirists of any age:

• Everyone has a story to tell.
• A writers’ group will help you to keep writing.
• Any group will eventually fall apart without a leader.

To learn how to lead a life-writing group, I picked up a few books, including Telling the Stories of Life through Guided Autobiography Groups, by gerontologist James E. Birren and Sharon Lippincott’s The Heart and Craft of Lifewriting. Shortly after I discovered Sharon’s book, she discovered the Hale Street Gang and introduced herself to me via our blog. Talk about serendipity.

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Sara Tucker is the author of Our House in Arusha, a family memoir set in Tanzania. Her blog is The Hale Street Gang and Me . You can email her at halestreetgang@gmail.com.

Writing Groups

I’m a firm believer in the power of writing groups. Perhaps I indirectly learned their power from my participation in Toastmasters, Int’l many years ago. Toastmasters is based on the concept that peers can use basic training materials to mentor each other as they develop their ability to communicate in groups. In retrospect I realize I received a heap of benefits from my Toastmasters experience:

A continuing audience. My fellow club members listened to me time after time, which enabled them to track my progress in a meaningful way and provide helpful feedback.

Action deadlines. Speakers must perform, and need audiences. Writers can write in solitude, but the commitment to share with a  group is powerfully motivating.

Structure. In the beginning, the Toastmasters manuals provided guidance through initial steps of learning to organize and deliver short speeches. Writing groups that begin with classes also offer this advantage. Over time I moved beyond the manuals, but still benefited from the structure of a group that regularly held well-planned and organized meetings.

New friends. This proved to be a fringe benefit I had not expected. Members of Toastmasters clubs tend to become well-acquainted and close friendships often develop. The same is true, perhaps even more so, in writing groups especially life writing groups.

Group effort. Learning to communicate in groups is not something you can do alone. It takes a group. Toastmasters fills that need.

Not all writing groups are equally successful. I’ve belonged to a few that fizzled. One was a general writing group that met at a Barnes & Noble store many years ago. The group had no formal leader and completely dissolved when a scary person began attending. Another was begun by a person with personality quirks that send new members fleeing. A third was formed by several mature women who saw writing as a career enhancement tool. All became too busy to continue.

The groups that have been the  most rewarding and helpful have been life writing groups. All the ones I’m currently involved with spun off from classes I began teaching with the specific intention of keeping myself writing. Members of these groups have grown to feel like family. Each of these groups provides the same benefits as a Toastmasters club: a group of people who regularly read each other’s work, provide feedback and monitor progress, deadlines for writing, a certain amount of structure (especially in the preliminary classes), group effort and new friends.

I especially stress that last factor. There is something about sharing stories from our lives that opens hearts and bonds people. There’s another advantage to hearing other people’s stories: new story ideas flow thick and heavy, nurturing creativity and expanding the reach of personal memory.

As members move on to other areas, new groups are beginning to form. To encourage the development of more groups all over the country and the world, I’m planning to showcase a few groups I know of. If you belong to a group and would like to have it featured, please send me an e-mail.  If you’d like to start a group, stay tuned. Guidelines for starting and maintaining a thriving group will be forthcoming.

Write now: write an essay about your experience with writing groups or other support groups. If you belong to a group, write about the people in it and your experiences. How do you feel about the group? What would you change? How has it helped you? If you don’t belong to a group and would like to, make plans to find one or start one.

Photo credit: James Mitchell

Tips for Reading Out Loud

Sharing words of story connects people in a powerful way. And as anyone who has ever listened to David Sedaris knows, stories read by their author take on an extra dimension of life. I love reading to groups regardless of who wrote the story, and I especially enjoy reading my own work. 

My love of reading to others was sparked by Mrs. Schmidt, the third of my string of four first-grade teachers (we moved a lot that year). She insisted the Blue Birds read “with expression.” I loved it! From that day on, I read to anyone who would sit still and listen — sister, brother, classmates, children, grandchildren. Today I read mostly to classes and writing groups.

Most recently, I read one of my stories for the Talent Night event at a Road Scholar program in New Hampshire. To my horror, I forgot to take a copy of the story with me, so I had to rewrite it before I could read it. But read it I did, and I’m still basking in the warm glow of appreciation. I highly recommend this experience to others. 

On November 17 the life story writing group at our local library is going to present A Festival of Life Stories for the public to celebrate National Life Writing Month. Not everyone takes to public reading like a duck to water, and many are nervous. Below are tips I’m sharing with them, and perhaps you’ll also find them useful:

• Print a reading copy of your story in a serif font with larger-than-usual type and wider line spacing. I recommend using TimesNewRoman as your font, sized 14 pt or larger, depending on your eyesight. Bold type may also be a help. Set the line-spacing to 1.5 for this special copy. 


• If you stand to read without a lectern, hold a colorful folder of piece of stiff cardboard behind your pages to prevent them from fluttering in unsteady hands.


• Read your story aloud at home. Whenever your tongue says one thing and the words say another, edit the document to match your tongue. This helps the words slide out more smoothly.


• Read your story aloud at home. Read the final draft aloud to yourself, preferably in front of a mirror. Practice using lots of drama and inflection, like the librarian at Story Hour. Listen to Books on CD for examples.


• Read your story aloud to one or more other people — family member, friend or reading group.


• Read your final draft aloud at least six times to master it. Even though I’ve been reading to groups for decades, I practiced that most recent story six times before the show. It made a difference! It allowed me to frequently lift my eyes from the page to gaze out at the audience, using my finger to mark my place.

With this rehearsal, you may still feel nervous, but your preparation should pay off, and you’ll sound like a pro. 

Write now: pick one of your favorite stories and read it to someone. Then write about your feelings and thoughts before and after you read. Was it enjoyable? Why not? What might prevent you from enjoying this experience? What could you do to remove this obstacle? 

Back at Keyboard

My extended break from this blog lasted longer than anticipated, but I'm back at the keyboard. I am working on the new WordPress version, but that’s turning into a more complex project that I’d envisioned. I like WordPress so much that I want to use it for my whole website, and I have not yet discovered how to set everything up “behind a curtain” and then flip a switch to swap the old for the new.

Meanwhile, dozens of juicy blog topics have come and gone... so we’ll continue here for now and I’ll make the switch very soon.

This experience of working on the WordPress installation, with the alteration between intense focus and interruptions, and need to loop out for more research, is a sort of metaphor for amy writing project — maybe for life in general. I’m thinking back to the year I spent writing my master’s thesis. I chose a complex topic: Perceived Risk of Nuclear Power. That’s an odd topic for someone seeking  a degree in counseling psychology, but we all knew by then that I was not going to pursue a career as a therapist. My off-beat combination of two hot topics was a good one. It eventually garnered me the newly minted Distinguished Thesis Award, much to the glee of the department and my advisors.

I was a returning student with three young children and other time-consuming commitments. I lived 100 miles from campus and took classes in my local community. Life often intervened to keep me away from my research and writing for weeks at a time. Each time I went back to my desk, it took me considerable time to review past work and “get back in the groove.” How I wished I could simply sit down and bang it out., without interruption.

Today the same situation arises with the transition to WordPress and also with my Los Alamos Girlhood memoir. Life keeps intervening. Perhaps the one thing that ensures I keep tapping away on the memoir is my reliance on a blog about that project.  I have a growing list of followers now, and don’t want to embarrass myself by going too long between posts. That means I have to write something, reflect on what I’ve written, and blog about that.

You can find any number of ways to maintain or manage momentum on a writing project. Partly it depends on your personal writing style, a topic I discuss in detail in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. Probably the most powerful and effective is to use other people as accountability props, and writing groups and classes are especially helpful. 

One writing group you can participate in without leaving home is the Life Writers Forum YahooGroup. You can use this lively group to report in about projects and get group input to resolve snags or anything related to life writing. It's a rich source of new ideas. Join the group by entering your e-mail address in the form in the left sidebar or click over to the group homepage. You'll get the most out of the group if you participate in the discussions, but lurkers are also welcome.

Write now: write a journal entry on your writing style and how to keep your project flowing.

Out of the Mouth of a Physicist

When I read something especially juicy and anyone’s within earshot, I can’t resist the temptation to read aloud. My spouse has grown used to this, sometimes enjoying the passages, but mostly staring at me to remind me he prefers to read things for himself — unless he’s driving the car.

A few minutes ago I picked up a new memoir and began reading. The first sentence screamed to be read, and since he was working on a crossword nearby, he was fair game. I continued into another paragraph before he stared me down. I suppressed my chuckle.

“Sounds like an author who uses a lot of adjectives,” he commented.

“What?” I’d read fewer than a dozen lines from a small page. I glanced at the passage and selected words popped out. Audaciously French ... pigeon gray pebbles ... most gigantic pair of hedge clippers. Every adjective was doubled.

“I don’t like authors who use excessive adjectives,” he continued. “They sound like they’re trying to impress people with their ability to describe in great detail something that I don’t care much about.”

“Bingo!” I answered. “You’re saying that adjectives in general are okay, but we should choose them with precision to avoid the need for piling them up.”

“Yeah. And many writers overdo similes too.”

This curmudgeonly wisdom sounds as if it were spoken by Andy Rooney, but not so; it comes from a nuclear physicist who once took a freshman English class. But he knows good writing when he sees it, and has little patience with anything less. He has an uncanny ability to zoom in on structural flaws and inconsistencies with laser-like precision, even with such minuscule samples as this.

Which all goes to show that some of our most powerful writing lessons may come from unexpected sources, and as you look for feedback, you shouldn’t rely solely on writing classes, groups, or coaches. Go exploring and turn over leaves in several cabbage patches, because you never know where you’ll find a master analyst.

And now I’ll return to my reading. Silently. I can deal with the adjectives, and the story does sound juicy. 

Write now: pull out a finished story or scene that includes plenty of description (I hope you have piles of these). Read through it and look for opportunities to sharpen adjectives, making them more precise and check for excessive use of similes.