It’s All About STORY

I was stunned when conversation at my book club drifted into comments on memoir in general. I’d just mentioned that I’d been appalled at the proliferation of typos and other errors in a memoir I recently read that was, sure enough, self-published.  “I cringe when I read something like that because it casts all self-publishers in a bad light.” But even so, I’d been mesmerized by the story and seconded the recommendation of a previous reader.

I could never have anticipated the ensuing, spontaneous discussion. How I wish I’d had my phone’s recorder running. I did scribble a few notes, summarized below:

“I’m more forgiving about sloppy writing and errors in memoir … I’m more interested in hearing their story than how they tell it.”

“I can overlook a lot of structural stuff because the story is what counts.”

“Memoir is about real people, things that actually happened. Most of them are not professional writers and I don’t expect them to sound like one.”

“Flaws make memoir credible. If it’s too polished, I wonder how much truth got scrubbed out by editors.”

“You can’t critique a memoir because you haven’t walked in that person’s shoes. I’m just fascinated by other people’s stories.”

Wow! I recognized an opportunity to listen and learn rather than steering the discussion. I kept my astonished thoughts to myself to avoid biasing things.

Members of this group are voracious and discerning readers. Every Tuesday afternoon 12 – 20 women (men are welcome, but never attend) meet at the library. A high number have advanced degrees. Several are retired teachers or professors. A few of us also write. But most of all we read, widely and constantly. We each read whatever appeals to us and report back to the group, some in more detail than others. At least half the gals at any given meeting report on more than one book. Rarely does anyone pass.  A significant percentage of the reports include some form of the observation, “It didn’t work for me, but other people may like it.”

In general we collectively hold books to high standards, so, I have full respect and regard for their thoughts about memoir. I cannot imagine a better qualified focus group to address this issue, especially since it arose spontaneously. They don’t write, teach or promote memoir, so they have no reason to be anything but frank.

Perhaps today’s comments ring even more true, because in thinking back, I recall a couple of memoirs that got a thumbs down after comments like “It was too dry and didn’t have much to say.” Celebrity memoirs full of false humility that fails to mask self-promotion also get blasted. The story has to ring true.

Does this mean we should forget about editors and publish first drafts? Of course not! I take it to primarily mean that we should make sure our heart and soul stays in our story and that it retains our unique voice. We still need beta readers to find holes, inconsistencies, and parts that don’t make sense or ring true. And I don’t think these gals will mark you down for a tightly written manuscript with a compelling plot and story arc, strong tension and character development, rich scenes, and no typos. All those fiction devices work, but only if the story rings true.

The bottom line in their remarks is STORY. It’s all about the STORY. Those dry, flat memoirs that got ripped lacked STORY. Do what you need to do to make your story clear, focused and active, and don’t hide it under too much gloss and device. But take heart that if you do slip up a bit, or can’t afford thousands of dollars for a top-notch editor, or you’re just writing for family. Don’t despair. Write it true, write it real, and write from your passion and heart.

Punch Up Your Stories with Active Verbs

How exciting is it to read a story full of “it was” or “there were” phrases? Yes, you’ve heard it before – phrases like these are a variation of passive voice, and they put readers to sleep. Let’s explore alternatives.

As an example of the difference it can make to switch out dull, boring verbs with punchier active ones, Randall McKee agreed to let me use part of a documentary type story he recently read to our newly formed lifestory writing group. Randall read the “after” version, but confirmed that his first draft was indeed full of the dull form. Since he continued to save improvements over his initial draft, I took the liberty of reverse engineering the passage, especially the verbs, back to what they might have been. The clip below was excerpted from his opening paragraph:

… Blake's Barber Shop was next to the Brownfield Hotel on North 6th Street just off Broadway. Outside the shop was a traditional red, white and blue banded barber pole. A hat tree was next to the door. It was full of silver-belly Stetsons, neatly creased fedoras and soiled blue-striped railroad engineer's caps, head coverings for gentlemen from all walks of life. There was dark paneling halfway up the wall from a white tiled floor. Behind the barbers was a long wooden breakfront. Its shelf was piled with clippers, shaving mugs, brushes, bottles of hair tonic, aftershave and jars of Barbacide with scissors, straight razors and combs soaking in it. The breakfront had a mirror along it that looked like it doubled the number of items on the shelf. …

Now compare with the final version he read to the group:

… Blake's Barber Shop was next to the Brownfield Hotel on North 6th Street, just off Broadway. Outside the shop a traditional red, white and blue banded barber pole beckoned menfolk to enter. A hat tree stood next to the door, a harbor for silver-belly Stetsons, neatly creased fedoras and soiled blue-striped railroad engineer's caps, head coverings for gentlemen from all walks of life. Dark paneling rose halfway up the wall from a white tiled floor. Behind the barbers stood a long wooden breakfront, its shelf piled with clippers, shaving mugs, brushes, bottles of hair tonic, aftershave and jars of Barbacide in which scissors, straight razors and combs soaked. A mirror stretched the breakfront length. Its reflection appeared to double the number of items on the shelf. …

Notice how the second version is laced with action verbs: beckoned, stood, rose up,  piled, soaked, stretched, appeared to double. Doesn’t that second version just jump off the page compared to the first?

You aren’t likely to get that second result on your first draft. Randall explained that he wrote the first draft quickly to get it down on the page. Then he worked on polishing that first pass. “I looked at each sentence to consider how I might make it better.” I think you’ll agree that he did.

Use these tips to find and replace your ho-hum verbs:

1) Read through a story with a highlighter in hand. Mark each instance you use any form of a pronoun together with a form of the verb to be. Some variations include “it is,” “there were,” and “they were.” Please note: not all forms of being verbs are banned – just clichéd phrases with pronouns.

2) Ponder each sentence to determine what’s happening in it. What’s the message?

3) Exercise your creativity to find a suitable action verb to replace the “being” verb.

You may find this a challenge at first, and I guarantee they’ll invade your first drafts. My first draft of the previous sentence, “This may be … ,” got tossed. This is a vague pronoun and “may be” is a conditional form of to be. As you gain experience, you’ll find these being phrases popping out at you everywhere. Alternate phrasings will come more easily to mind.

Who knows? You may form the habit of thinking in active phrases, punching up conversations and becoming a more compelling story teller.

In Defense of Surface Writing

In her new book, The Art of Memoir, author Mary Karr repeatedly urges readers to dig deep to discover their true story. As a disclaimer, I’m not digging back into the volume to discuss it. This post is based on what I perceived, understood, and remember, not her specific words. My perception is my reality, my truth. If that varies from literal words in the book, that’s how memory works, and that’s part of my point.

Karr, along with countless others, myself included, have continually made the point that as you begin to edit and refine your initial story and reflect about what really did happen, how else you might look at the past, how else might you tell it, your story changes. In fact, you reconstruct history. Some give the impression that this reconstruction conveys our true essence and is truer than our initial understanding or viewpoint, no matter how long we held it.

As I read Karr’s thoughts on this reconstruction, I was overwhelmed with the certainty that these “deeper truths” are no truer than the ones we’ve lived with, perhaps for decades. Our lives may be richer for reaching them, but they NOT MORE TRUE.

What you remember on the surface is your story, the story that made you who you are. You may derive enormous personal benefit and change your life by digging, archeologist-style, into your past, but that does not diminish the personal validity of your original insights and belief, your original truth.

Early drafts of your story convey a sense of who you have been. When you begin crafting and editing that story, it remains true, but continues to develop. You continue to develop and grow. Deep reflection and insight can shape and reflect who you become. New information can change how we view the past, but it can’t change how we thought and felt before we turned that corner. We are, after all, works in progress, continually evolving as we travel life’s path, and stories change even for those who never write.

Memories do tend to morph over time. Read an old journal if you need examples. Just keep in mind that their initial form is as true and valid as whatever form they eventually take.

I bring this up in the hope that nobody will be deterred from writing or sharing stories for fear they have not dug deeply enough or their story may not be true enough on the first or second draft to be deemed “worthy” of writing or being read. I hope nobody will be deterred from writing at least a few stories from the certainty they’ll never have the time, skill or motivation to polish it to perfection.

Enough of that Inner Critic talk! All stories are worthy of writing and sharing. Furthermore, no matter how well-developed and polished, or how loudly your supporters cheer, not all will appeal to a million people. So whatever your level of skill, motivation and resources, don’t hesitate to write yours.

Do you find this concept startling, that truth can be defined on multiple levels? Do you agree? What are your thoughts and experiences? I welcome and encourage comments on all facets of this topic. Please join the discussion.

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.

Real Writing, Rough or Polished?

Authenticity is a big issue for lifestory and memoir writers and daunting to consider. Which is better and more authentic, those first rough drafts, or stories you’ve polished to a flawless sheen? After wrestling with this question for a seeming century, I’ve come to the conclusion that they are both authentic and real.

A family example

My mother began writing her autobiography late in her life, and her health failed before she finished. After her death, I pulled a thick folder of drafts and notes into a coherent, unpolished, story that gives a comprehensive picture of her life before she met my father. I shudder to think how much would have been lost if she’d spent time polishing!

My father is the opposite. He polishes every word. His stories are magnificent, and we have a dozen of his hundreds.

If you focus on facts and creating a legacy of history, rough works. If you focus on art, polish matters. In my opinion, both are authentic. Rough reflects honest effort to connect. Polish reflects dedication to order and esthetics.

Rough serves well to convey passion and spontaneity. In an earlier post, “Stories Around the World,” I wrote about LifeMemo.com, a site rich with real stories from everywhere. I keep going back. Raspy rawness in those rough outpourings moves me intensely. Strong emotional connection clings like a cocklebur.

Polish slides smoothly into my heart with incisive focus. Poetry may fly over my head, but lyrical phrases in poems or prose resonate within me like fine crystal bowls.

Both work. The key to the power in either case is to write from your heart. No hedging, no hiding. If you are going to write it, write it! The message I get from raw writing is that those people trust their message enough to put it out there “as it is,” messiness, and all. Like poetry, not all messy stories work, but heartfelt stories transcend messiness.

Polished writing clarifies and refines the message. Many find joy in finessing a phrase with robust writing skills. We want to tie silken word ribbons around readers’ hearts. We study, seek feedback from multiple sources, and practice until fingers and minds grow numb.

Raw writing gets memories out where they can be seen, shared, and analyzed. Polishing stories develops insight and refines your view of the world. Investing the effort to grow as a writer delights readers and shows your dedication in developing your gift.

Lumps of raw coal provide warmth, power and comfort. Diamonds delight. In the end, I see it much like the difference between Sunday singers’ heartfelt hymns and operatic arias. Each has a purpose and place, and each appeals to different tastes.

Based on my family example, if you must choose, and you have any descendants, I urge you to focus on rough quantity first. After you’ve assembled that legacy, be creative. Edit and polish to your heart’s content.

Write now: read stories on LifeMemo.com, paying close attention to how they affect you. What elements do you most strongly connect with? How can you tap into that power in your writing? Pay back the pot by leaving a simple story of your own for the global tribe.

How Do I Start Writing My Lifestory?

“I want to tell my grandchildren about my life, but when I sit down to write, my hand freezes and no words come  out. I don’t know where to start or how to do it. What can I do?”

“Do you use email?”

“Yes.”

“Try this: Open a new email message and write a long email to your grandchildren. Start at the beginning. Tell them when and where you were born and who your parents were. Then start telling them about things you remember from early in your life. Tell them what things looked like and what you thought and felt about them, why they mattered. Write about friends you had and important people in your life. Just keep writing, talking from your heart in email, just like they were sitting there with you. You can send the email, or copy it and paste it into Word. Or both. Can you do that?”

“Yes, I think I can do that. That sounds easier than writing stories!”

When people hear that I teach and write about life story writing, confusion often tumbles out. Many people have tried this email approach with good results. A few write by hand, sometimes on stationery – remember that lovely old letter paper? That works too.

Something about writing letters seems less intimidating than writing a story. You can keep using paper to write more stories, or switch to Word.

I included dozens more tips for getting started in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, like  setting up a folder in My Documents (or wherever you keep your Word documents) named “Life Story” or something similar. Save drafts of your stories in that folder so you can find them later.

For now, don’t think about editing. Keep writing and adding to the pile. This is one time that quantity trumps quality. Rest assured that you are always going to start with rough drafts. Even professionals with decades of writing experience write messy first drafts, so you are in good company.

The reason for quantity is to capture as much as you can while you are able. My mother began writing her life story around the time she turned 70. Her health soon declined ending her writing. After she died, I found piles of notes and drafts. I had to piece them together, but we have a complete record that stops just when she met my father. We can fill in the rest, but the early stuff was totally new. If she’d stopped to polish early drafts to a shine, those fascinating stories would be lost.

If you need help remembering or knowing what to write about, Google “lifestory writing prompts.” You’ll find a million.

Now, get those fingers moving!

Write Now: whether you are just starting or you’ve been writing your lifestory or memoir for years, open a blank email window and write about your birth and first year. Everything you write will be from records like your birth certificate and from hearsay. That’s okay. Write it the way you heard it, and include any thoughts it brings to mind. You may be surprised what comes out in this informal setting.

Memoir: Process or Product?

With any form of expressive writing, from spontaneous journaling to polished, published memoir, the writing process produces 90% of the benefit, at least as far as the writer is concerned.

To be clear, this 90% figure is an intuitive assessment, but not a wild guess. I extensively studied the healing value of expressive writing and wrote about it in a series of blog posts, Writing for the Health of It. I also base it on a stream of student comments that stories they wrote for class shed new light on past events, changing their perspective.

This may be especially good news if privacy concerns deter you from writing. It’s okay to write for a readership of one. In fact, that may be your healthiest, most gratifying course of action. You’ll get  most of the value even  if nobody else ever sees a word of it.

In fact, if your story upsets others, the resulting controversy and turmoil may offset the proven benefits of writing. You are well-advised to use caution when you have doubts how your story will be received. Carefully weigh your risks and benefits, and don’t risk what you’re unwilling to lose.

Other reasons people avoid publishing are more pragmatic. When you put your life on public display, you want clean copy. You want it to make sense and be free of embarrassing typos and simple grammar errors, and you want it to look nice on the page. You want it to look professional, without sacrificing authenticity.

Moving from draft to polished publication is a daunting task. Not everyone wants to exert that degree of effort. Not everyone knows how or wants to learn. You can pay people to edit your story and make it look like a million dollars. That’s like investing in custom framing for a picture you painted – nice if you can afford it. With diligent promotion, you may recoup some of the cost of professional assistance, but it’s not prudent to spend more on publication than you can afford to write off.

Finishing the draft of a memoir pays huge dividends. Polishing it pays more. The more you ponder story elements, which to include and how they interrelate, the deeper your insight and sense of meaning become. The more you study the craft of writing and contemplate  fresh ways of describing people, places and experiences, the more open you become to the world around you.

Whether you do it to contain costs with group editing or for the fun of it, joining a lifestory writing group or class provides further benefits as you bond with others and enhance writing skills through the power of story and collaboration.

Everything to the point of uploading your file to a printer is part of the process. When you choose to share your story with others, whether it takes the form of a rough stone or a polished gem, the process still holds most of the value for you. You may eventually reap huge  royalties, but whatever the financial rewards, you have created a historical document that others will treasure. That’s a mighty sweet cake. Inspiring others piles on icing – your gift to the world.

What is your aspiration? Process or product? How do you view this reward balance?

Write now: pull out your Story Idea List, select a topic and write that story!

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.

Flat As a Shadow

My write brain feels flat and gray as a shadow.

If I were writing on paper, the wastebasket would be overflowing with crumpled blog post drafts. Since I’m at a keyboard, cyberspace is awash in electron static whirling off my hard drive as my brain spins and my fingers flail, trying to gain purchase on the page.

Each of those posts began with a great idea that I may eventually find a way to develop. Right now they are flat. Flat as a pancake. Flat as a board. Flat as stale beer. Flat as the hat an elephant stomped. You get the idea.

I think I know the problem: I’ve been reading blog posts and advice articles with titles like 7 Tips for Captivating Readers, or Bore into Readers’ Brains for Keeps. (Don’t go searching for these articles. I made up the titles. Besides – why would you go looking for something I just described as trouble?)

The advice wasn’t bad. The concepts they espouse are solid and useful. Maybe. Sometimes, for some people. Trying to follow those formulas drained all the life from my words, sucking them dry. The resulting posts sound like they came from fill-in-the-blank templates. They are preachy and BORING. They sound like I’m determined to write until I reach a certain word count.

The problem is they lack passion. They lack heart. They take someone else’s idea and try to embellish it beyond what it deserves and that makes them preachy. You deserve better.

They violated a key rule in the first chapter of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing:

There is no write way to write.
Try lots of things. Find what works
for YOU, and run with that.

Obviously there was one key piece of advice missing from all that wisdom:

Write from your heart first, then apply the craft.

If that sounds like a formula, it is, and it’s the exception to the rule. It’s the one formula that will prevent blog-by-number posts and same-old, same-old stories.

That’s the story, that’s the message, and that’s all that needs to be said.

Write now: strip a story down to its basics and write those, only those. Don’t embellish in any way until that story is finished.

Don’t Worry, Just Write It!

NAMW founder Linda Joy Myers has been busy posting about the memoir alternative for NaNoWriMo. In her most recent Memories & Memoirs blog post, she points out that this is National Life Writing Month. She posts four tips for writing a 50,000 word memoir draft this months in lieu of a 50,000 word novel.

Linda Joy has been extra busy. She also wrote a guest post for Nina Amir’s Write Nonfiction in November blog giving another eight tips to help you dig deeper as you write.

I suspect many writers are like me. It sounds fantastic to write an entire novel, memoir, or other nonfiction book in a single month – one of the busiest months of the year as it includes the Thanksgiving holiday and the onset of the December holiday madness. BUT … I already have three books underway, maybe four. Starting a new one seems counter-productive. So what can I do? Besides, the first week of the months is already history.

Here’s an idea: Maybe it’s cheating and maybe it isn’t. Who but me cares?

I could take the rest of the month and FINISH the memoir I started nearly two years ago. The one that’s been languishing, morphing in my mind. The one I think I know how to handle now, “when I have time to work on it again.”

Who am I fooling? When do I think I will I have time to work on it? I work on things when I decide to. When the muse whacks me hard enough to get my attention. I’m a big girl. I can make decisions. I already have about 18,000 words. That’s over 1/3. I should certainly be able to finish a draft in the remainder of the month.

I invite you to join me:

JUST WRITE!

Don’t worry about word count or ethics. Don’t worry about punctuation, grammar or even structure. Don’t worry about what your clothes or hair or make-up. Just write! By hand or computer. The idea is to complete a manuscript, from beginning to end. What better way to honor the intent than to finish a work in progress?

If your enthusiasm or motivation begins to wane, think of all the writers around the country – indeed the world! – who are feeling the same challenges, and get those fingers moving again. And sign up for the FREE NAMW roundtable discussion this Thursday, November 10, with Nina Amir and Denis LeDoux to hear more tips about writing a memoir.

Write now: think about your works in progress. Do you have a book-length one you’ve been meaning to get back to? Open that file and take a look. If you have at least 12,000 words there, you can easily finish in the allotted time. I invite you to take a deep breath, spend two hours a day, and blast through to the end.

Photo credit: Julie Jordan Scott