Personal Truth vs. Factual Truth

Rereading old stories often sparks new insights. Ditto with old blog posts. En route to finding an old post about something else, I found “My Brain on Story.” That post is based on an incident where a witness to a mock crime testified that what turned out to be a plastic water pistol was the gun that fired the shot she heard.  Rereading the post led me to reconsider the controversy about Truth I reported there. My son-in-law’s adamant position was that although the perception that a water pistol was a bullet-firing weapon was real, it was not true. I disagreed, clinging to my assertion that the perception was true.

Today a flash of insight penetrated my skull. Sally’s perception of an actual gun and speeding bullets was personal truth  or perceived truth. The documentable fact that the gun was a water pistol was factual truth. While not every instance of questionable truth has documentable evidence to prove it “right or wrong,” in this situation , the matter can be settled. I still maintain that each form of truth is equally valid, but I’ll concede they are different.

Bottom line, in my opinion, it still does not matter. We’re still talking about terminology and the fact that perceived or personal truth plays a powerful role in our lives.

Sally’s personal truth that a pistol was aimed at her and that shots were fired is still as true today as the day it happened in 1984. I did not stay in contact with Sally, but I can say with absolute certainty that she remembers that personal truth, how real it was, and how stunned she was to hold the water pistol. I’m willing to wager that her life turned a corner that day.

The timing of this discovery is amazing. Life has intervened, and that new volume of advice for writing your lifestory is not finished, though I’m deeply engrossed in it again. I believe it’s no coincidence that I’m currently working on the chapter on memory and truth.

This flash of insight holds two jewels for that chapter:

1. Truth comes in at least two versions, maybe more. Each or all are equally valid, just different.

2. Insight and understanding evolve. I’ve written about this before. Lessons sink in and begin to grow when their seed sprouts, and some seeds can take a long to sprout.

My life is full of slow-cooker lessons and evolving understanding. What are some things you’ve been slow to learn?

Unlikely Paths and Capsule Stories

Acclaimed memoirist Carol Bodensteiner discusses surprise paths that lead to unforeseen opportunity in her current blog post, You Just Never Know. Unable to find a full-time job as teacher after earning her teaching degree, she began working as a secretary, a move that surprised many then and now. She explains why she never regretted taking that path and issues a challenge to readers to share similar stories.

My life has been full of portentous by-roads, and I did choose to share one. Like the flash memoir embedded in Carol's post, the comment I wrote serves as a capsule story that could expand into an entire chapter in a memoir of connecting the dots of life. I share it with you here as an example of how to capture such memories in five minutes or less and store them for later use:

My surprise career road was a relatively short loop: I signed on as a Mary Kay Beauty Consultant. Why? I never wore much makeup, and olive oil was my go-to skin care. How could I ask people to spend money on products I didn’t value? My academic training was in counseling psychology, with a master’s degree earned after a ten year gap. But with school-age children, I could not easily commit to the minimal pay and floating schedules necessary to “pay my dues” and become a bona fide counselor. I turned to teaching instead, part-time, for low pay and unpredictable schedules, at the local community college.

Then fate introduced me to a Paid Professional Speaker, who became a mentor of sorts. He told me I had to learn sales to be able to do anything at all, and I had to commit to at least five years of active membership in Toastmasters. Toastmasters was a pond for this duck. Learning sales more like a desert. I signed on with Mary Kay, assuming this was something I could limit to school day hours.

Let’s just say I could only endure this sales training by focusing on my goal: earn several awards and boogie. This was the toughest class I ever took! But when I realized that the Mary Kay script worked better than anything I could invent myself and started going by the book, the awards, i.e. crystal wine glasses for meeting production goals, began to stack up on my shelf. I became shameless in telling people what I did and asking, “Have you (your wife) had a Mary Kay facial yet?”

I accosted a woman I knew only vaguely with this line when our paths crossed at an Art in the Park event. When she heard what I was doing, she asked, “Isn’t that something you can do with a high school degree?”

“Yes. Would you like to know more about becoming a Beauty Consultant?”

“But you have a master’s degree! Aren’t you wasting it?”

“Not at all. My master’s degree helped me become the person I am, and I like the person I am. How could it be wasted? When would you like to have a facial?”

I pulled that response out of thin air, but as I spoke, I realized its truth. I did like the person I’d become, although I did not like selling make-up. The woman did book a facial but bought nothing. Surprise? Not really. She was coerced. Manipulated. And my heart was not in this — I was near burnout. I soon realized I had met my goals, and got out. Class over.

I’ve never regretted the time I spent selling make-up. Together with Toastmasters, it opened doors to selling things more in tune with my passion, which I eventually discovered was writing and “selling” ideas.

Please note that my capsule story is somewhere between a Story Idea List entry and a more complete story with plenty of detail. Capsule stories are little more than a string of titles and not at all deep. More thought on how to expand capsule stories to follow.

Points to Ponder:

• What decisions have you made that put you on unexpected paths?
• What were the eventual benefits or costs? 
• Do you regret the choice? 
• It’s your turn to write and share such a story in a comment below!

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.

What Makes YOU Happy?

This question, “What makes you happy?” is so simple, but who ever stops to consider it? I hope you will, as I have been doing the last couple of days. It could change your life.

I found this question in the draft of a book I’m beta-reading for a friend. The book will soon be published, and you’ll learn more about it before long. Meanwhile, although answers to this happiness  question could easily fill a book, my initial list has helped me find a focus to reboot this blog.

Let’s take a look at my list. In addition to obvious things like laughing with family and friends, blowing dandelion fluff, piles of freshly washed and folded clothing, having someone else fix my breakfast and that sort of thing, I listed

• meaningful connection with people who share my interests and values
• discovering something wonderful
• sharing wonderful discoveries with those who will appreciate them
• the satisfaction of polishing a piece of writing – or doing any job well
• reading masterful writing
• playfulness in writing and life
• writing true to myself and my voice

No real surprise here. Involvement in the global writing community makes ME happy! For over sixteen years I’ve been studying and practicing different aspects of life writing and sharing what I’ve learned with others in classes, writing groups and privately. I love that!

But as with other things, it’s easy to go along with the crowd, to be swept up in trends, to keep telling people what you think they want to hear. It’s easy to stick with the same old same old, the tried and true, to say and write what others are saying and writing.

That’s a recipe for burnout.

Recognizing that I was drifting into serious burnout with writing and teaching, I’ve taken an extended break. For a month I didn’t even write email. My husband and I flew to Rome for a few days before boarding the Celebrity Silhouette cruise ship to loop around the Mediterranean for two weeks. We visited Malta, the Greek island of Kephalos, Ashdod (nearest port to Jerusalem), Haifa, Ephesus in Turkey, Athens, Sicily and Naples before returning to Rome. We stayed on the ship for two more weeks, visiting Toulon in Provence, the Spanish island of Palma de Mallorca, Barcelona and Tenerife in the Canary Islands before heading across the Atlantic to Ft. Lauderdale.

We had a great time with without email and Internet for a month, opting for digital detox. I took this one step further and wrote nothing other than a few trip notes. I did read. Between constant Trivia games I read mysteries and memoir and most of a book about writing. But I didn’t write.

By the end of the month I felt alone in a crowd of 3500 people. I met dozens of interesting people, but no writers. Nobody I met gave a hoot about writing, and few even read. Only one was more than marginally digitally literate. I felt like I was on the wrong planet.

Compiling that list of things that make me happy has brought me home to my keyboard, refreshed and ready to write. In playful new ways. With new focus. I’ll fill you in more on that focus in future posts.

Write now: pull out a piece of paper – the back of an envelope or piece of junk mail will do. Make a list of things that make YOU happy. Aim for 100. Hang onto this list. We’ll work with it more later. When you finish, pick one simple thing from the list and do it. Then do a quick Happy Dance.

On Hiatus

I’m touched by the outpouring of people who contacted me yesterday after reading that terse notice that I’m taking a break from blogging. Thank you for your concern, my friends! I’m deeply touched to realize the extent of the cyber community that has developed among those of us writing our lives.

But never fear. All is well. It’s just time to formalize the break that had already begun with  no plan. It’s time to reevaluate the purpose of this blog and what I want to achieve. A month or more offline will be digital detox to restore clear vision and balance.

A primary focus for me has always been to pay back the pot for all the golden information others shared with me, and to provide help and encouragement for those who lack the resources for high admission events. If people buy my books as a result, so much the better!

The blogosphere and memoir community have grown and evolved over the nearly nine years since I began this blog, and so have my interests, perspectives and skills. When I began, the few websites available were mostly bait to get people to sign up for expensive classes and services. Sites like that still flourish, but there’s plenty of free fodder to graze on – more than anyone can possibly keep up with.

A secondary aim has been to encourage those who write for personal growth and to create a legacy of family history. Publishing is great. Fame and fortune are great. The web is full of advice – good, bad and indifferent – on how to polish and promote your product to make that happen. I hope to keep people aware that unpolished, unpublished pebbles are also worthy of respect.

I admit that I’ve neared burnout on social media and my passion for posting has cooled. But embers till glow. I do expect to be back, refreshed, reconnected with passion, full of new ideas.

Perhaps the greatest compliment I’ve ever received is “You make me think!” I hear that enough often enough, from a broad enough base, to realize that may be my greatest skill and primary value. I feel on the threshold of Big Thoughts myself. Writing will help crack that shell. Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, for poignant memoir writing tips similar to things I post, please visit Elizabeth-Anne Kim’s inspired and compassionate blog, Lives In Letters. Elizabeth is a local writing friend, a generation younger than I. I’m a huge fan of her fresh insights and amazed at the depth of her knowledge. She’s living proof to me that wisdom knows no boundaries of age, and she fuels my hope for the future.

I invite you to join me for in digital detox if you’re flaming out, and write on, as I shall always do.

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.

Make New Friends: Writing Layers of Meaning

Make new friends, but keep the old,
One is silver and the other gold.

This classic friendship song began endlessly looping on brain radio the other day. Inspired by Kathy Pooler’s blog post, A Tribute to My Girlfriends, I sat down to pen a post about friendship. What emerged is far from what I set out to write.

I began writing about the fact unlike Kathy, who has remained close with numerous friends for decades, my friends are more situational, coming and going as our respective interests change, and … that paragraph was never finished. Something about the thought didn’t quite ring true, and a recent memory displaced it. A memory of a brief encounter I recently had with four friends I’ve been out of contact with for over fifteen years. How do those friendships fit in the silver and gold category, I wondered.

They don’t! As I wrote, I realized those categories don’t work for me. I realized how limiting categories and labels are, how they inherently imply boundaries and barriers. Degrees of closeness? No barriers there. But what about gaps? Nobody can stay constantly connected with every friend.

The longer I wrote, the more confused I became. Finally I had a breakthrough. My thoughts compressed into something manageable that I could get my mind around:

Each of my friends, local, online or far away, is unique. Each brings a warm glow of general pleasure, and each fills a different niche in my heart. As time goes by, our mutual interests may wax and wane, perhaps remaining on hold for years or decades. But that bond remains like an unlit burner, waiting for a mere spark to rekindle its warmth.

Maybe Kathy and I aren’t so different after all. And maybe it’s time to rewrite that song: 

Make new friends, but keep the old,
One will warm you while the other’s cold.

Far or near, good friends will bring cheer,
All that’s needed is a phone to hear.

Skype or text, an email now and then,
Friends will be there, though we don’t know when.

Since writing that essay, I’m seeing friends in new ways. Some are soft and fuzzy, while others have organized edges, maybe with a sharp spots to make allowances for. The state of our relationship may vary from red hot to vacationing violet. Friends light up my life, though we may have spells of darkness between us now and then.

My hour of writing that essay was priceless. It exemplifies William Faulkner’s immortal quote: ''I never know what I think about something until I read what I've written on it.”

Write now: Pick a topic like friendship or love, or God, or something else big and grand. Start writing and see where the topic takes you. Polish the essay, or leave it raw. The purpose is self-discovery. Leave a comment or send me an email about your surprising discovery.

Photo credits: top: Arkansas Shutterbug. bottom: Francesco. Both altered and used under Creative Commons license.

Writing on a Hamster Wheel

I’m working on a complicated story right now. It’s total fiction, with no basis in my experience, and I’ve fallen into a trap common to writers of any genre, the hamster wheel syndrome. I know better than to do this, but I’ve been editing the heck out of what I’ve already written rather than forging boldly ahead to write the story. I know where it’s going – I’m just having trouble reading the markers along the path.

Yesterday I had a Skype visit with Ian Mathie, a prolific cross-genre author who pops out stories like a cat birthing a litter. Already this year Mosaique Press has released two new titles by him, making a total of six book-length volumes published over the last three years. This year’s first, Sorcerers and Orange Peels, is his fifth book-length memoir covering grippingly arcane experiences in a remote African village while working as a water engineer. The second, Chinese Take-Out, is a fictitious spy thriller based on valid history. 

As we chatted, I learned that he is nearing completion on two more novels and another memoir. When I mentioned my dilemma, he confirmed what I suspected: “... I just write the story and edit later.”

As much as I value Ian’s advice, this particular bit was old news. Who hasn’t heard some version before? For example,

• Write with your display off to avoid distraction.
• Write by hand.
• Set a time limit for cranking out XXXX number of words.

None of this advice addresses my specific version of the challenge. I do a lot of my writing when not at the keyboard. I think about this story constantly. What would I really do if I were in this situation? Or, How can I get them out of the campground at 4:30 a.m. without waking other campers? Or, Should they eat breakfast or fast? What are the forest service regulations about dogs in the national forest? Does El Sabio need to be on a leash?

This type of question is specific to fiction. If this were memoir, I’d know the answers. But even memoir writers have dilemmas about what to include and how to frame it.

A fresh start

This morning I sat down to write, determined to tackle new content, but wrestling with a few changes needed in earlier material that had become clear. Determined to capture them without spending another morning rewriting, I tried a new trick, writing the edit concepts down, like story ideas. I wanted them in the story near the relevant points. I could have used Comments in Word, but I hate the clunky way Word handles comments.

Instead, I inserted virtual sticky notes. These small text boxes have a pale yellow background, no border and a 2 point shadow on the bottom to make them look real – you know how sticky notes tend to bend upward just a smidge as you apply them. Right-clicking on the box border gave me the option of making this first one the text-box default for this document. To make them feel even more “real,” I created a style to make the text look hand-written. As a final touch, I changed the document layout from even 1.25 side margins to .75 and 1.75, making side margin room for these stickies.

After adding a few notes in the margin and using strike-out to indicate which paragraphs need to be deleted or revised, I forged strongly ahead with the story.

Who knew one little confession to a writing buddy could bear such powerful fruit? That rope he tossed lured me off the hamster wheel. Yes, I knew this stuff before, but sometimes we need a helping hand from a friend to use what we already know.

Write now: Seek advice from writing friends for dealing with your particular form of writer’s block. If the advice doesn’t fit, thank them anyway, and keep looking for a solution. Before you know it, words will be gushing again. Post a comment about your experience with writers block of various sorts, or send me an email. We need to pull together to beat this writing dis-ease.

Memoir as Training Wheels

Mary Gottschalk has proven her versatility as a writer by crafting a highly acclaimed  memoir, Sailing Down the Moonbeam, followed by a novel, A Fitting Place. Both volumes are gutsy stories, and in this guest post Mary explains how writing the memoir prepared her for the challenge of switching to fiction.

Memoir as Training Wheels

Writerly skills are for naught unless you have something you want to write about.

The story behind my memoir—a mid-life coming-of-age experience after I left a successful career to sail around the world at age 40—had steeped in my brain for two decades before I put pen to paper. Not once, in all those years, did the possibility of writing a novel ever occur to me.

But as the memoir evolved and my writing skills improved, I began to see that “the story” was much bigger than “my story.” Sailing across the Pacific Ocean struck me a metaphor for life: you can’t control your environment, the route is not well marked, and you often end up someplace other than where you set out to go. The core lesson of that voyage was that you learn the most when you step outside your comfort zone.

Suddenly I had a story with almost infinite variations. I itched to explore them. Voilà, my first novel about a woman who never leaves home, but is thrust out of her comfort zone when she is betrayed by those she trusts most. It is my first novel, but it will not be my last.

Learning the Writerly Craft

I often think of my memoir as the literary equivalent of training wheels.

With a memoir, the task is far more manageable than with a novel, where every element—story arc, characters, plot points, scenes, point of view—is in flux until “THE END.” With an infinite number of possible events and characters from which to choose, even an experienced writer can have trouble discerning whether a problem lies in the writing, in the story arc and structure, in the pace, in the mix of characters, or some combination of them all. For an inexperienced writer, sorting it out can seem all but impossible.

By contrast, the outer boundaries of my memoir were established long before the first word hit the page. I knew where the story began and ended, who the players were and what role they played. The plot points and scenes were constrained by reality. My job, as author was to connect the dots, not make them up.

Connecting the dots was certainly not enough to guarantee a good memoir. If you believe, as I do, that a well-written memoir should read like fiction, I needed to have much the same set of writerly skills as a novelist. As a neophyte, I was missing many of them when I started out. In retrospect, one of the great advantages of starting out with a memoir was that when things weren’t going right, there were fewer things to be fixed.

As a memoirist, I couldn’t change the trajectory of events, so I had to focus on doing a better job of building tension and establishing cause and effect within the existing storyline. I learned, by trial and error, to recognize which events moved the story forward. I discovered how it felt when my story began to unfold organically. I learned that ruthlessly cutting out events that serve no plot purpose could heighten the emotional truth of the story, with little damage to factual accuracy.

Similarly, I couldn’t create new scenes or new characters out of whole cloth. All I could do was focus on re-writing those that were flat, on learning how to make them come alive, on using them more effectively to carry the plot forward. My focus was on mastering the art of showing vs. telling, on finding the right balance between dialogue and narrative. I learned that what I didn’t say often had as much dramatic potential as what I did say.

Throughout the often painful process of repairing crippled parts of the story, it was easier to push forward, knowing that I had a clear idea of what I wanted the story to look like when it was complete. By the time I began my novel, I had developed solid skills in constructing a story arc, both for the book as a whole and for each chapter along the way. I knew how to use dialogue and develop my characters through judicious use of scenes. I still had a lot to learn, but completing the memoir gave me the confidence to attack one problem at a time, to avoid being overwhelmed by the enormity of the task.

The memoir served as my training wheels. Without it, there never could have been a novel.

Bio

Mary has made a career out of changing careers. After finishing graduate school, she spent nearly thirty years in the financial markets, first in New York, then in New Zealand and Australia, eventually returning to the U.S.

Along the way, she dropped out several times. In the mid-80's, at age 40, Mary and her husband Tom embarked on the three-year sailing voyage that is the subject of her memoir, Sailing Down the Moonbeam. When the voyage ended, she returned to her career in finance, but dropped out again to provide financial and strategic planning services to the nonprofit community. In her latest incarnation, she is a full time writer. Her first novel, A Fitting Place, was released May 1, 2014.

Find A Fitting Place on Amazon and iBooks.

Social Media Links

http://marycgottschalk.com http://twitter.com/marycgottschalk
http://www.facebook.com/mary.gottschalk.9
http://www.facebook.com/MaryGottschalkWriter
http://www.linkedin.com/in/marygottschalk/
https://plus.google.com/u/0/105973496280247274228/posts

Writing Lessons from Photography

Last winter I had the privilege of participating in a Road Scholar nature photography program in Costa Rica. Although I was raised in a family of photographers, I never wanted to make the effort to learn about f-stops, shutter speeds and all that good stuff. That didn’t change with the advent of digital a dozen years ago. I’ve been happy with my point-and-shoot pictures, often augmented by Photoshop enhancement later. So my plan was to tag along, see Costa Rica, meet some new friends, and fly under the radar as far as learning was concerned.

What a surprise when our brilliant photography coach, Mónica Quesada, presented some simple concepts so clearly that she hooked me in. This is easy enough. I might as well try this. Who knows? By the end of the trip, between Monica’s encouragement and supportive group members, I’d made a breakthrough. I was by-passing the auto setting and flipping through various combinations of aperture, shutter speed and ISO settings like I knew what I was doing (and I sort of did), .

As the week progressed, I realized how many similarities there are between photography and writing. For whatever it may be worth, I share them with you here, and invite you to click through my favorite shots in my Costa Rica Flickr collection for further visual illustration.

Focus on the main topic. Keep background information vague for sharp contrast so the main topic stands out. In the photo above, the golden orb spider and her web are crisply focused. If the background was in focus, that web would be lost in the detail. Give plenty of crisp detail about the main topic and character, minimizing detail about less important elements.

Background serves a purpose. That blurry background plays an important role. Indistinct as it is, the swirls of color set off both spider and web. In a story, background information gives your story context and gives readers a sense of connection. You’ll know you need to add more if early readers ask questions like “Who was he?” or “What was your uncle’s name.” “When did you go there?” And so forth.

Compose the shot carefully. That spider is the central focus, but offset just a bit for interest. The lines of the web draw the eye toward the spider, and the white dots add a bit of sub-theme, also leading to the spider.

Include contrast. That sharply focused, somewhat darker spider contrasts clearly with the background, making it stand out. Shadows in the blurry background add depth and pattern. Stories without a bit of darkness seem flat and dull. 

That early thought about being happy with my point-and-shoot camera also relates to writing. For years my sit down and write a story the way I’d write a letter seemed entirely satisfactory to me. And it is. For most purposes. I still urge people to focus on quantity rather than quality if their purpose is documentary writing. In my case, over time, I began learning new ways to organize stories and tweak them. I’m hooked. I hope I’ll always keep learning new techniques, new ways of looking at story and refining it. The end result may be more pleasing to readers and convey my points more crisply, but for me, the pleasure is in the process and craft. I love the challenge.

Photography isn’t the only way to expand creativity and perspective and learn more about writing. Scads of writers also paint. Natalie Goldberg’s newest book, Living Color: Painting, Writing and the Bones of Seeing is all about the relationship between visual expression and writing. Do yourself a favor and try some alternate modes yourself.

Write now: Read at least the “Look Inside” part of Living Color, then find paper and pen (pencil is too tempting to erase) and use her concepts to make a few sketches. Consider how you look at your surroundings differently when you consider drawing them. How does this relate to the way you look and see when you plan to write.

Winter Wonderland–It’s All in How You Look At It

This photo is my favorite of all the snow pictures I’ve ever seen or taken. I was standing on our sun porch the morning of December 10, 2003 (I know the date because it’s embedded in the original digital photo file), rejoicing in the return of sunshine after the first serious snow of the winter. I had my camera in hand, already framing the shot, when a branch in the background suddenly relieved itself of its burden. Diamond mist filled the air just as I snapped the shutter.

I lowered the camera and watched this enchanted scene play out. I was bursting with gratitude that I’d been there to see it. This picture reminds me that even during the dreeriest, darkest, coldest times (like the past several weeks in the northeast), flashes of beauty and gratitude appear to lift our spirits.

It reminds me that beauty is all around us, if we learn to look. I was indeed fortunate to be there that day and see a scene nobody could ignore. But I can find beauty anywhere. I look around the room where I sit and admire the tapestry fabric on a chair. I see Chinese embroidery, fine as spider’s web, preserved on a tiny tray that serves as a coaster for my coffee mug. Even when it’s snowing (again!), the flakes and new fallen blanket are beautiful. Slush? I’m working on that.

These are physical objects I can see with my eyes. Finding the beauty may be harder in situations. How do you find beauty and gratitude in pain, anger, loss and grief?

My method is to write. I scribble on piles of paper, I vent in volumes of journals. I bang out stories, real and imagined. Once I have a draft on paper (sometimes in pixels), I start asking questions to crack open assumptions and beliefs:

• How else could I see this?
• How might (whoever) see this?
• Could (that person) have actually meant (this)?
• What would (advisor of my choice, real or imagined) tell me about this?
• What if … (fill in the blank)?

One question, from The Work of Byron Katie is so powerful it’s in a class of its own:

• Is this true?

Three other questions support that one. You can download more information on Byron Katie’s site: The Work.com. Whatever questions I use, I write the answers. I may write them several times.

I don’t always find answers and beauty right away. It may take years, but I know it’s there, and pictures like the one above help me remember that one day, in a blinding flash of the obvious, I’ll see what was always there, but hidden by the darkness of a storm. I’ll find my old story flipping upside down or turning inside out to form a new one. I’ll feel relieved and enormously grateful.

Write now: look around you and find some beauty that inspires gratitude. Write about this. Then think of a situation that’s harder to parse. Use tools like the ones above to write your way through to what may be a jolting conclusion and new way of looking at life.

Full size image link: http://t.co/JeokuYdSp6

Memoir: Breaking Through to the Next Level

Over the last few days I’ve read two memoirs back-to-back, Margaret Overton’s Good in a Crisis and Jonna Ivin’s Will Love For Crumbs. Both stories revolve around disastrous relationships with men. I was struck by the fact that although these two women had very different backgrounds and their stories are quite different, each had to piece together the puzzle of her mother’s life to break free and follow a different path. I was reminded of computer games where you must find all the hidden tools to advance to the next level. 

As I thought about this similarity, I realized how universal this theme is. I did study Freud once, along with a tower of other psychology books, and dimly recall some psychobabble about “differentiation.” Obviously there is nothing new under the sun here, other than airing this process in public. That public sharing angle is the aspect that most fascinates me.

Thinking beyond the stories themselves, I realized that as I read each one, it stimulated me to think more deeply about my own life and relationships. I realized once again that although I’ve certainly faced my share of puzzling and tense times,  for the most part I’ve led a charmed life, spared most of the traumas they disclose. In spite of the odds against it, I’ve remained happily married for nearly fifty years, and my mother’s shortcomings are hardly worth mentioning. Still, although comparing my life challenges to theirs may be like placing the Blue Ridge mountains next to the Himalayas, reading how these women “broke through to the next level” and became more peaceful and comfortable in their skin settled me more securely in my own. 

As I pondered the powerful effect these books had on me, a light went on. Each woman explained at the end of her book that she initially began journaling or writing random notes in an attempt to make sense of her experience. Transforming those notes into a coherent narrative was a profoundly healing experience. That healing process rippled out to me as a reader, and presumably to a multitude. Perhaps, just maybe, those of us who are “called” to write and share our stories are gifted with the opportunity to help others find hidden clues and find their own next levels of peace and freedom. As we heal ourselves, the effect spreads through our words into the world at large. 

I’m reminded of thoughts I’ve heard, perhaps from Christina Baldwin, and probably also from others, about “restorying” the world. I’ve written a pile of blog posts scattered around the web about my own experience with revis(ion)ing my memories and discovering far more light in them than I ever imagined. I know the process works, and some memory visualization tools I’ve found are magic cursors pointing to hidden tools and maps.

Not everyone wants or needs to write and fewer still want to share their work. For many or most, it’s enough to read or privately journal. To whatever extent you are called to write for peace and healing, whether it be a letter of reconciliation and forgiveness, a single short story, or several volumes of memoir, write with boldly honest passion and flood the world with light. I’m beginning to find tangible evidence that as we heal the past, we also heal the future. Let’s get on with that!
As an aside, there is still time to register for my 3-week NAMW short course, Soaring High and Digging Deep: Tools for Refining Your Memoir. It begins this week. Find more details and sign up for the class and this month’s related free Roundtable here. 

Write now: start a collection of random notes about a person or situation that puzzles you. Add to this collection over time as further thoughts occur to you. When you run out of new thoughts, read through what you’ve written and transform that to narrative. As you work on that story, your understanding is almost guaranteed to shift.