Points to Ponder Before Tarnishing Memories

Tarnishing the memory of someone held dear by friends, family or others is not a step to take lightly, but it’s a risk some of us must take if we dare to share the truth of our differing personal perspective on that person. You may have heard the widespread encouragement “Be brave. Be bold. It’s your story, you have the right to tell it!” Telling by writing is good. And, it’s prudent to consider all aspects of that decision before sharing or publishing what you write.

Sometimes that truth is known, and nothing you write will be a surprise. In my family it’s no secret that my maternal grandmother had both favorites and those she scorned. I was one of the favorites. My cousins, siblings, and I and have discussed that divide. I acknowledge her ugly treatment of the scorned one and though I admit to fond feelings for her, I do not eulogize her for the affection she showed me.

All too often hurt and resentment remain secret. One person I know, I’ll call her Clarissa, was so subtly abused by a former spouse that nobody noticed. She was unaware herself until the marriage ended. Eventually she recognized the problems for what they were. She’s writing about it, but has no plans to show her stories to family members.

“Don’t you think your son would benefit from knowing?”

“No. He adores his father. He would not understand and it would not be helpful.”

That woman is wise, and as we talked, several points about disclosure arose. This is not a new topic in memoir circles, but you may not have thought of all these angles.

Disclosing negative reports of your experience messes with other people’s feelings and memories of the subject of your disclosure and also of you. They may not always welcome that intrusion. They may react in one or more of these predictable and widely discussed ways. They may

• Argue with you. Many will feel inclined to protect the person they hold dear and  you seem to smear.
• Get angry. They may be furious that you took potshots at a hero.
• Not believe you.
• Spread deeply hurtful stories about you.
• Avoid or disown you. You may no longer be welcome at the Thanksgiving dinner table.
• Consider you unfair. Especially if the subject of your disclosures is dead, that person will not be in a position to defend him or herself. If alive, ugly arguments can ensue.
• You may incite a family feud. 

Ponder the guidelines below as you consider whether to share even a single controversial story with a single person involved:

1. Am I writing from revenge? In a blog post, writing guru Jane Friedman cites advice from Marion Roach Smith’s highly recommended book, The Memoir Project: A Thoroughly Non-Standardized Text for Writing & Life:

Never write a story because you want to extract revenge or betray someone.

Read the rest of the post or Smith’s book to learn why. Linda Joy Myers, founder and president of The National Association of Memoir Writers, is another well-known apostle of this creed, emphasizing it often in blog posts, public teleseminars, her book, The Power of Memoir, and other arenas.

2. How will these people (this person) benefit from knowing what happened to me? The answer may be, they won’t. Especially if you write from revenge. But let’s expand on possibilities from Clarissa’s situation. Perhaps her son could learn something that would help him improve his marriage.

3. Are they likely to understand? If the son does adore his father, he’s more likely to defend his dad than look into his own behavior. Short of directly pointing out flaws in the way her son treats his wife, he’s unlikely to get the message. If she does point them out, anger and avoidance may kick in, further closing his mind.

4. Is my disclosure important to set family history straight? Connie faced major controversy when she decided to include ninety-year-old newspaper coverage of the trial of an uncle who was convicted of murdering his wife in a family history she wrote. “That’s ancient history. Why dig it up again now?” Connie did have a reason: to show current and future generations that they come from a tough line of survivors of many family tragedies who thrived despite it all. Most family members applauded her efforts.

5. Is sharing this story likely to be a satisfying experience? If you have well-founded hope of being heard and acknowledged with empathy and compassion, or of inciting positive change in some way, maybe so.  If you foresee significant risk of inciting negative reactions, you could find the situation boomeranged, and that you’ve made things worse. 

Always keep in mind that written words hold even more power than spoken ones. Once read, they can never be erased. If you do decide to disclose, do your best to show all relevant perspectives. This open-minded approach tends to be contagious.

Bottom line: Lacking a compelling reason to disclose despair, the greatest kindness you can extend to others may be to leave memories intact. Work through your feelings and get the feedback you need by journaling, talking to friends, sharing with trust writing groups, or seeking therapy, but beware of messing with family members’ minds.

Don’t Call Me Mother

Linda Joy Myers’ memoir, Don’t Call Me Mother, is a rich read for many reasons, and one you won’t want to miss. Aside from the gripping storyline and heart-warming ending, her brilliant description makes the story blazingly real and compelling. Her technique is worth studying.

For starters, she uses evocative phrases like “The silent air between them heats up like a hot wire” and “I fall asleep wrapped in cottony dreams, breathing in the scent of my mother.”

She uses emotions and perceptions to convey a powerful sense of her inner life, for example,

They all stand around as if there’s an elephant in the garden everyone’s determined to ignore. Bernie stands back, her dark eyes flicking back and forth.

She masterfully uses action as a descriptive element, for example

Afterwards, Mother and Gram talk-fight all afternoon, chain smoking until the room fills with gray. Edith drops a bowl on the floor; Blanche pokes her finger with her embroidery needle. The men try to take refuge in outdoor work, but Mother follows them for a flirtatious tour of the mink pens, a scarf over her nose.

She includes intangible elements — what she senses or reads between the lines, and what she is feeling.

On the last day at Grandpa’s, I feel shaky inside, already missing them.

I have a lump in my throat as Bernie helps me pack the tiny doll clothes she made for me.

It’s clear she doesn’t want to know too much, and I’m sure the truth would worry her. I sense that she’s genuinely grateful that Gram is taking care of me because she simply wouldn’t know how.

Most of us find it challenging to get back into moments that happened maybe fifty years ago fully enough to capture details so vividly, so I’ve asked Linda Joy to share tips she has found effective.

Memoir Writing Tips from Linda Joy Myers

1. Research the sensual details—weather, location, setting, temperature, sound, sight—of your memoir. I went back to Oklahoma during the early summer to see if what I remembered about the wheat—the color, the landscape, the smell—was the same. It was!
2. Genealogical research helped me to get the names and dates straight in my memoir—and I did it before ancestry.com came onto the scene. Good old fashioned research from primary sources like courthouse records can reveal surprising details.
3. Write, rewrite, and rewrite some more. As I wrote my book, I had to surrender to the writing and rewriting process, and came to love the fact that a revision meant I could "see again" what I'd written before, and make the world I was creating on the page more real and well-rounded.
4. Once you get the "facts" clear that you want to share with your reader—otherwise known as your "truths," you look for poetic and metaphorical language, a fresh way to see what you already know, and bring it to the page. Don't be shy about this. Close your eyes and use your imagination, tune into your right brain, and write.
5. If you have dramatic moments you remember from childhood—in my case it was the feeling and sound of the powerful trains that brought and took away my parents—research these details as well so you can feel them again in your body. I would stand near train tracks, while preparing to take the train!—and absorb the feeling of the train's arrival, feeling much as I did as a child, exhilarated, vibrating, bowled over by its power. That helped me to write about trains with a refreshed sense of experience.
6. Think of yourself as a painter, and the writing, especially description, as the paints and colors on your canvas. Visualize each scene in full color, choose your words as if they are colors.
7. If you are writing from a child's point of view, close your eyes and remember as much as you can from being a smaller, more vulnerable person. Look at photos of when you were small. Notice how delicate and small children are, even at age 8 or 9.
8. Write from photographs—evoke all the emotion you can to drive you through the powerful scenes in your memoir. Remembering, imagining, and dreaming are close cousins.
9. Fall in love with your Thesaurus. I went over every paragraph with it in hand, and looked up lots of words to find the best fit that was evocative.
10. Be willing to feel tired, discouraged, and then buoyed up by the writing process. You need to have the long view about writing a memoir. Some days it's fun, and other days you just feel the weight of it all, but in the end, it's all worth it!

Thank you, Linda Joy. Your story is so compelling I know nobody will want to stop to analyze as they read, but writers can use your list as a short course in description writing as they scan back over the story a second time.

Linda Joy Myers, PhD, is Founder and President of the National Association of Memoir Writers and author of The Power of Memoir and other books. Visit the NAMW website and read her blog, Memories and Memoirs.

Write now: write a short story and incorporate at least four of Linda Joy’s tips as you write the description in it. Use these tips to revise an older story.

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!

Your Journal: a Treasure Chest of Memories

Amber Starfire is a valued colleague who shares my passion for life writing and photography. Her recently published book, Week by Week is a treasure trove of tips and prompts to supercharge your journaling. (Read my review here.) In this guest post Amber gives tips on how to get even more value from past entries as you work on lifestories and memoir.

Journal writing is good for so many things: sorting out problems, recording life events, healing, self-reflection, and personal growth. Often, we process events and emotions in writing and then stack them on a shelf or in a box and forget about them. We rarely make use of our previous entries.

So, what would you say if I were to tell you that your journals are full of precious memoir-writing gems just waiting to be discovered? Journals are wonderful places where images, metaphor, sensory details, as well as stories about events, people, and places are mixed in with the emotional ups and downs of daily life.

Try this: Browse journal entries from a previous year or month with an eye to noticing images you've included. Do any specific, seemingly inconsequential details strike you now? Something that stays in memory? Perhaps you wrote about seeing the cat cross the hallway during the time of the event, or the way the sunlight slanted across the living room floor, or the teapot on the table. Perhaps a particular detail carries emotional resonance: the lift of your mother's eyebrow, the pain in your son's eyes, the sparkle in a little girl's eyes. All of these images have significance—or you wouldn't have recorded them. The trick may be to understand why they were important enough to write down.

Once you find one of these gems, here are a few journaling prompts and ideas to help you dig more deeply into its meaning.

• What sensory details (smell, sound, sight) are included in what you wrote? What emotions and/or associations with other memories arise as you read that passage?
• If the image or scene involves action, write more now about that action, adding as much detail as you can remember. What part of the action carries the greatest emotional charge—is most fulfilling, dangerous, scary or exciting?
• What does the image/memory represent? For example, you might associate the image of a red skirt with defiance. The metaphor then is, defiance is a red skirt. You can then play in your journal with ways to extend that metaphor. For example, When worn short and daring, it may reveal more than you intend, or it shouts to be noticed.
• Is there a person in your memory to whom you assign that image—someone who wore a red skirt? Make a list of that person's physical and psychological characteristics. How many of these characteristics relate to that image, and why?
• Do a word association exercise with a word that stands for the image. For example, if you wrote about the force of the wind on a particular day, you might use either the word "force" or the word "wind." Write the word at the top of your journal page. Then quickly write down the first word that pops into your head. Write the next word, and the next. Keep writing words, without censoring (it's okay to repeat), until no more words come into your mind and you feel quiet. Then look over the list of words. What do you notice about the list as a whole? Does it have a mood? A color? A shape? Does it make you think about something else that happened in your life?

Ways to mine your journal entries for memoir writing, and ways to use your journaling to reflect upon significance of those entries are infinite—limited only by your willingness to engage your mind and imagination. Try a few of the ideas listed above, or create your own. And please leave a comment about what you discovered.

Visit Amber’s website to subscribe to weekly blog updates and sign up for her free 4-week email Journaling 101 class. She will be the featured guest on the May 18 NAMW Member Roundtable: Journaling for Memoir Writers—A Short Course in Writing Deeply. Read more on the NAMW website.

Writers Recycle

Writers are recyclers par excellence. Especially for memoir and lifestory writers, the substance of words pouring  onto the page consists of recycled memories, insights and understanding.

Many of us also recycle various materials. When I’m floundering with a concept, I raid my paper recycling pile for an oversized envelope. Something about writing on garbage frees me to write garbage, and my mental clog usually flushes right through. I keep a pile of discarded documents near the printer and print drafts on the backs. I recycle or refill empty toner and ink cartridges.

Recycling is The Right Thing to Do. It’s ecologically correct. But I learned to recycle decades before anyone heard of overpopulation, landfill crises, or global warming. My parents grew up during the Great Depression, and money was scarce for the first many years of my life as my father finished his education on the G.I. Bill and began his career.

Both my parents were amazingly resourceful and could find new uses for nearly anything. Mother was a master of what I’ve come to call Garbage Art. She could make it look so good you never realized it was garbage. She squirreled away scraps of this and that, “because I’ll need them to make something someday.” She usually did, at that.

I inherited that tendency to scan trash for transformation potential. Practice pays off. When I unpacked a computer part shipped from NewEgg last year, several yards of soft brown packing paper caught my eye. It had a soft, supple velvety feel. The natural color and texture looked warmly earthy. When I noticed it was perforated like paper towels. a light went on. Reaching for a ruler, my hunch was confirmed. Each panel was 15”by 8.5”—perfect for journal pages when folded in half.

I felt a compulsion to carefully separate the sheets. They’d become creased when wadded as packing. I ironed out the creases, leaving a worn, leathery texture. Folding them all in half was tedious, but listening to a downloaded NAMW roundtable session made the time pass quickly. I was preparing to write in two different modes: I was improving skills and clarifying concepts while preparing materials.

The next part was messy. I clamped the stack of folded sheets and coated the folds with three liberal coats of white glue. Attaching a wide strip of gauze used to mount the pages in the cover requires focus. Scrounging in the cardboard recycling pile in the garage, I found a corrugated pizza box with enough clean areas to cut cover panels 5/8” higher and equal in width to my sheets. 

The embroidery training I received quite literally at my mother’s knee (I was only 3 or 4) came into play as I unraveled some jute twine and wove a few strands into the coarse, unbleached muslin I chose for the cover. When that was finished, I carefully positioned the cover pieces on the fabric and glued them on. I leave a “gutter
5/16” plus the cardboard thickness between the spine piece and inside edge of the cover panels. Finally, I trimmed the fabric edges and glued them to the inside.

The rest was relatively simple, though it did require careful placement as I glued the “wings” of gauze to the cover, then glued folded endsheets in place inside each cover. In this case I glued a an attached bookmark made of piece of jute fiber with a tiny antique key at the end into the spine.

Making your own journal by hand is extreme, and few will ever try. Some may find it intimidating to write in a handmade book. I find it energizing. I’ve made several others from folded legal size sheets. Using journals I’ve crafted myself adds dignity and honor to my thoughts and words. Besides, I prefer unlined paper and all the coolest commercial journals have lines.

Now, if I could only figure out how to turn the huge wild turkey feather I found in the yard into a reliable pen …

Write now: consider ways you recycle and your thoughts about it. Write about this in an essay or story. 

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.

Writing Around Obstacles

As anyone who has written more than a dozen life stories or begun a memoir knows, some stories flow onto the page more smoothly and easily than others. What do you do when a story jams up? What do you do when you start writing and realize you aren’t going where you thought you wanted to go?

Let me use this blog post as an example: I originally intended to write it to highlight Andrea Hurst’s AUTHORNOMICS Interview Series, which features weekly interviews with literary agents, editors, authors, marketing experts and more talking about their opinions on the publishing industry, writing, and what a writer needs to know. I wanted to tell you how valuable it can be to learn from experts in other genres as well as your own, and I wanted to alert you that I’m featured in an interview this week.

But that’s not enough to fill an entire blog post, so I decided to add a few more resources, for example a link to Kathy Pooler’s blog, Memoir Writer’s Journey. Kathy is a walking Wikipedia for life writers, with more resource links per post than anyone I know.

Jerry Waxler’s blog, Memory Writer’s Network, is crammed with wisdom and writing lessons gleaned from his deep study of over a hundred memoirs. He includes dozens of author interviews.

I could fill many pages with links to rich blog sites like Shirley Showalter’s Discover the Power of Writing Your Story, or SuziCate’s Water Witch’s Daughter, one of the finest and most consistent examples of scintillating description I’ve found. Linda Joy Myers’ Memories and Memoirs is full of great tips, along with the Women’s Memoirs site.

I save one of the best for last: the National Association of Memoir Writers. I saved this one for last because I hope you’ll click over to learn more about the 3-week NAMW short course I’m offering, beginning next week: Soaring High and Digging Deep: Tools for Refining Your Memoir, which I mention in the AUTHORNOMICS Interview.

That last link brings me back around to my original intent of discussing what to do when your story doesn’t go where you intended: Let it take a detour. Write around the log jam – or through it. If you encounter a flock of sheep on a New Zealand road, unless you plan to sit there for an hour, you must keep moving, very slowly, until you work your way through. You might later edit out extraneous material after you write to the other side, or perhaps you’ll find it has value after all, and leave it in. Today I cut a lot, but left in links I have been meaning to feature, “when the time is right.”

A second alternative is to set aside your keyboard and linear writing in favor of more visual ways of exploring and organizing memories and meaning. I’ve written a number of posts on some of these tools in the past, but reading about them and using them are two different matters. In the Soaring High and Digging Deep class, you’ll have the opportunity to discover their power by using them yourself and share your experience with others to learn even more.

To find out more about the class and memories in general, join me on February 9 on the free NAMW February Roundtable: Memories are Made of This … or Are They? Click here to sign up.

Write Now: Pull out a story you’re jammed up on and write aroudn your logjam. Just freewrite about it and see where you go. Surprise yourself. You can throw it away later, or you may find a gem. Try a tool like inner dialogue,  mind-mapping, or asking yourself questions. Sign up for the class and get help as you practice using new tools.

Photo credit: Susan Mack

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

Fear of Exposure

I’ve done things in my life that I’m not proud of, and I’ve never told anyone about them. Do I have to write about those things in my lifestory?

I just read a memoir that left me with my mouth hanging open. I almost quit reading because of all the talk about sex, drugs and other stuff. Even if I’d lived through anything like that, I could never write about it. Is that what it takes to write a memoir?

This are typical questions about self-disclosure that I’m asked as a lifewriting coach and teacher. The simple answer is NO. If a subject gives you pause, respect that feeling. Don’t leave your comfort zone without good reason. The healthy thing to do is to write those stories in full detail. Spill your guts on the page, but keep it private at first. This will give you the health benefits of writing without the counter-acting stress of confrontations.

Once those stories are written, you have many options. You can burn the pages, or decide to delay sharing them. Depending on your relative ages, you may wait until those key players die to publish your work. But if you’re young and they aren’t old, another solution may be better. Here are a few considerations:

Look at the situation from other perspectives. You’ve probably only been thinking of this experience from your own point of view. Perhaps it looks quite different from the other person’s or the reader’s. Try experimenting by writing what you think the other person would say about it. You may find that it looks quite different, and your story may change as a result. This experiment may have additional value. In a recent IAJW member teleseminar James Pennebaker again emphasized that subjects in his research who adopted the most diverse points of view in their writing demonstrated the strongest health benefits.

Question your assumptions. Perhaps you overestimate the power of other people’s reactions. Perhaps some of your assumptions about what actually happened are a bit off-base. The techniques Byron Katie developed in The Work provide a simple process for challenging assumptions and beliefs.

Consider the value for readers. After reading several memoirs that were candid about the pain of feeling different during childhood, I’ve come to realize this is a much more common situation than I’d ever imagined, and I would not know that if those authors had not been brave enough to share their experience. As a result, I feel more comfortable openly joining their “club.”

Realize that reader attitudes are changing. Who doesn’t know that a vast sea of change has taken place over the course of a generation. My daughter’s generation could shock the socks off my mother’s with ordinary conversations among friends. They are more candid about nearly everything, and write accordingly. Even among those who are old enough to remember living conditions during World War II, many are disclosing things they would not have dreamed of telling fifty years ago.

Be compassionate with yourself. If you decide to admit to shortcomings or transgressions of various sorts, don’t just toss them out there and duck for cover. Include enough reflection to let the reader know what lessons you learned. Extend the same compassion and understanding to yourself that you would to a grandchild or any younger person who was feeling fears, pressures to conform, or general lack of insight similar to you experienced.

Never include anything simply for shock value. If, for example, your story involves sexual experiences, it’s okay to close the doors for privacy after the reader knows what’s going on behind them. Include only those details necessary to serve the purpose and move the story along.

These considerations barely brush the surface of this deep topic. For what promises to be a thought-provoking discussion about the issue of self-disclosure, sign up for the free NAMW telesummit on Friday, October 21 and dial in for the fourth session: Young Memoirists Talk about Truth, featuring Elisabeth Eaves, Nicole Johns, and Anna Mitchael. Everyone who signs up will receive an email link to listen to replays if you can’t dial in live.

Write now: think of a story you are afraid to share and work through the considerations above. You may still not want to share it, but I guarantee you’ll see the situation somewhat differently as a result.

Photo Credit: Wesley Oostvogels

Everyone Wins With Memoir

Last weekend at a panel discussion on various forms of electronic publishing, someone in the audience mentioned that the number of publishers listed as accepting fiction submissions in the current edition of Writer’s Market has shrunk dramatically from previous years. “Only a handful are interested,” she lamented.

This could be a sign of the turmoil currently swirling through the traditional publishing industry. Perhaps more significant is the surging shift of public preference toward memoir. It’s tippy to compare the memoir craze to the glut of reality show programming on television, but both feature presumably real people with the emphasis on real. Few people seriously believe reality shows aren’t scripted, but catch a memoir writer playing fast and loose with the facts, and the blogosphere conflagrates. People want to believe memoir is true. They relate to it.

Maybe the memoir mania springs from a sense of isolation due as people turn increasingly often to Facebook and text messages rather than personal contact. Memoir offers a sense of genuine connection with the author. Reading a memoir can offer hope to those in similar situations and reassurance to those who may see their own lives in a more positive light by comparison. Light or humorous memoir is pure fun to read.

Memoir may both entertain and benefit readers, but it benefits the author even more. I’m currently reading Growing Old, by Swiss psychoanalyst Danielle Quinodoz. The book focuses on the enormous value elderly people derive from reviewing their memories and attaining an integrated overview of their lives, for better or worse. Her observation is that people who are able to view their lives in this meaningful way experience more joy in living, especially in their last years. They tend to approach aging more actively, retaining curiosity and involvement with life and the people around them, and they are more likely to die peacefully and serenely.

As I read, I’m struck by the thought that this benefit of living more joyfully and meaningfully is available at any age, and although her focus is totally on psychoanalysis, the integrated overview she describes fits memoir perfectly.

I’ve written a number of posts here and on Writing for the Health of It about the physical and emotional health benefits of writing. The “raw” writing modes of freewriting and journaling are beneficial for exploration of specific issues. “Processed” writing in the form of stories and essays serve well to focus memories of events, people and reactions. Memoir draws on both raw and processed components to provide an integrated overview of a specific time or aspect of life, lending greater meaning and depth.

Psychoanalysis can lead to profound transformation for those who can afford it. The rest of us can invest in paper, pens, and maybe a few guidebooks (The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing is a great place to begin if you’re starting cold, and The Power of Memoir is superb). Taking a class, locally or online can help you hone your skills. You can enhance your results by joining a writing group specializing in life writing – start one if you can’t find one already meeting. Join an online group like the free Life Writers Forum or the National Association of Memoir Writers. Or find a writing coach to work with. You can work with a coach for a long time for a fraction of the cost of psychoanalysis.

However you do it, whether you publish your memoir or not, you’ll gain enormous perspective and insight on your life. You’ll win even if nobody ever reads it. But the time has never been better to publish your story. The publishing industry has never been more approachable, and the self-publishing option is wide open.

However you go about it, both you and your readers win with memoir.

Write Now: sign up for the NAMW Fall Telesummit

Photo credit: Lissalou66

Fact or Fiction?

An ongoing debate rages in the memoir world about Truth. What are the limits? How much creative license is too much? Where do you draw the lines between memoir and fiction?

The case for fictionalizing memoir is growing increasingly prevalent and strong. Proponents claim that all memory is fiction to begin with, since memory is based on perception and perception has to be interpreted. No two people perceive things exactly the same way, ergo perception is fiction. Thus all memoir is fiction, so we might as well call it that to begin with and avoid controversy.

Other positive points the fiction camp claims include:

Freedom to disguise characters and place, thus shielding yourself from disgruntled acquaintance, relatives, and lawsuits.

Freedom to embellish details as you wish.

Freedom to distort circumstances to enhance a point.

Freedom to write in third person and include other people’s points of views.

Freedom from concerns about inaccurate or incomplete memory.

Some truth can be expressed more poignantly in fiction than sticking to real life circumstances would allow.

Your muse has more room to dance, play, and toss out delectable insights when unfettered by reality constraints.

These are all valid points and they have artistic merit. There are times when fiction is a powerful alternative. But if you look closely, you’ll notice nearly all those points are based on fear. When the fiction decision is made from fear, it may be a cop-out. This fear may stem from the possibility of censure or offense, from insecurity about writing skills, or from anticipated consequences for baring your soul.

A case can be made that these are all surmountable, and that the rewards of writing your truth in your voice as your true story are likely to be greater than the rewards of writing fiction. Some point out that writing fiction is no guarantee that people won’t attribute it all to your personal experience anyway, as Kathryn Harrison found out when she wrote The Kiss.

Harrison’s first published book was a novel, Thicker Than Water, about a consensually incestuous relationship between a man and his twenty-year-old daughter. Critics claimed it was really a memoir. In truth it was fiction, though based on her own true story. According to her account while keynoting a writer’s conference I attended a few years ago, after writing her third novel, she became blocked and had to write the incest story as a memoir, The Kiss, to get it out of her system. Critics read the memoir and claimed it was fiction. She read parallel passages at the conference, and the memoir was more sparsely written with fewer details.

So how do you know which form will work best for you? It’s always a personal decision and the author’s choice. If you want more information to guide you through this choice, be sure to sign up for the 2011 Fall Memoir Writing Telesummit sponsored by the National Association of Memoir Writers. Eight experts will join NAMW founder Linda Joy Myers to discuss various facets of topic Truth or Lie — On the Cusp of Memoir and Fiction.

Click here to see the list of speakers, times, and topics, and sign up for this free event. Even if you can’t listen live, everyone who signs up will receive a link to listen to replays.

Write now: pull out a favorite memory and write the story as fiction to explore the difference it can make.

How to Write Your Healing Story: Interview with Linda Joy Myers

Who could be more qualified to mete out advice on writing memoir than someone who  holds a Masters Degree in Creative Writing from Stanford, wrote her own award-winning memoir, Don't Call Me Mother, and worked for decades as a clinical psychologist? This legendary person is Linda Joy Myers, who in addition to all the other things she does, is founder and president of the National Association of Memoir Writers (NAMW), and a veteran teacher and coach of aspiring memoir writers. 

Linda Joy's latest book, The Power of Memoir: How to Write Your Healing Story, was released in January by Jossy Bass. I'm excited about this book, because it's the book I might have written as a sequel to my own. It provides enough direction for a beginner to start from scratch, and for those who have already piled up a stack of stories, it provides a process for compiling the stories into a professionally polished literary memoir. It especially shines in the chapter on "The Power of Writing to Heal." The information in this chapter provides an exciting overview found no place else on the different arms of scientific research being done on this topic.

In the latest Heart and Craft of Life Writing podcast, Linda Joy explains how writing literary memoir and integrating the story arc of our lives can lead to much deeper levels of insight than we can ever get from a pile of disconnected stories. In this wide ranging conversation she also talks about using our words, our stories, to create art. She reminds us that revision is more than just a word. At its root, it means to re-vision, to see things freshly, in new ways. Writing memoir is a way of cementing the positive effects of a re-vision of your life and converting it to forgiveness and other healing perspectives. She cites the example of one of her students who spent months writing stories about her mother in an attempt to deal with her anger. Ultimately the woman was surprised to discover that she loved her mother deeply.

There is much more to learn from this fast-paced 13 minute interview. Click the link below to listen on your computer, or right-click to download for listening on another device.

Right-click to download file
After you listen, you can learn more about Linda Joy's work with the National Association of Memoir Writers on the National Ass'n of Memoir Writers website, and you can find her book on Amazon.
 
Write now: jot down some thoughts about a part of your life that seems worth deeper exploration. Remember, most of the value of writing a memoir is in the writing, not in becoming published, or even sharing what you write.

Accentuate the Positive

How often have you heard the mantra “Your problems are your best friends,” or some variation thereof? I could fill several pages without stopping as I listed all the reasons we should rejoice in our tribulations because they are such valuable learning opportunities and that sort of thing. Indeed, I even believe most of those reasons.

A variation of this advice carries over into lifewriting wisdom. Yours Truly joins such notables as Dr. James Pennebaker, Univ. of Texas Psychology Department chair and author of Writing to Heal, and Linda Joy Myers, Founder of the National Association of Memoir Writers and author of The Power of Memoir, in extolling the virtues of using stories about dark moments to give balance to a memoir or collection of vignettes. Experts agree that journaling or writing about traumas and difficulties is helpful for instilling insight, healing pain and anxiety, facilitating forgiveness and transforming lives.

Nothing in this post should be construed as negating that advice, but there is another side of that coin that has largely escaped notice. That’s the wisdom of “accentuating the positive.” Pennebaker’s initial research emphasized the value of writing about trauma, but as the years have passed, further research has shown that writing about happy events and memories has almost as much therapeutic value.

Dr. Martin Seligman, Director of the Positive Psychology Center at the Univ. of Pennsylvania and author of Authentic Happiness, has spent decades doing research on the health and other benefits of optimism and happiness. His research shows that these traits can be learned, and while he does not advocate denial, he does demonstrate that there is tremendous value in accentuating the positive.

To greatly oversimplify the vast sea of research in these areas, the results indicate that it is indeed beneficial to face problems and challenges squarely, and to do so with an optimistic attitude that it will turn out to be a blessing in disguise. It is equally valuable to write about our successes and moments of joy, and turn as much introspective attention to explore what we have been doing right and look for additional opportunities to do more of that.

If you don’t feel up to writing the tough stuff, don’t beat yourself up. Just keep writing. Write happy memories. Write fiction. Write anything at all, but do write — just for the health of it.

Celebrate success! Celebrate joy and happiness! Celebrate them in ink as stories, and refer back to them when skies and spirits are dark.

Write now: a story about one of your crowning successes or moments of great joy. Write about love and achievement. Wring your memory dry on this topic.

Dialogue: The Writer's Swiss Army Knife

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Photo from Victorinox

The more I study the topic of writing dialogue, the more convinced I’ve become that dialogue is the writer’s Swiss Army Knife. You don’t have to know what all the other tools on the knife are for if all you want to do is whittle the tip of a willow pole for roasting a marshmallow. But it’s handy to know about the tweezers when someone gets a splinter, and the little scissors are a godsend for snipping off loose threads and hangnails. Screwdrivers come in handy every now and then, and so it goes. Swiss Army knives prune, snip, and open all sorts of things, and so does dialogue.

Even those of us who are fortunate enough to have dialogue pour forth naturally can benefit from learning more about the functions it serves, and how it works. Some of these functions include

• Setting a mood
• Concisely conveying information
• Adding rhythm and color
• Developing character
• And more

Even if you include dialogue in your initial draft (most people don’t), you are likely to overlook hidden opportunities to put it to best use. Do you know the secret signals for sliding it in the perfect spots? I don’t think you’ll find that answer on the Internet. How do you make it clear who is speaking without including the name every time? Do you know when to use single quotes and when to use double? Should you write about the voices in your head, and the conversations they have? What about the accuracy of the words you put in the mouths of other people?

Ever since I announced this class and the preview call, questions on that last topic have been pouring in. Truth in Dialogue seems to be the number one concern of memoir writers. I will address that topic in the preview call, so be sure to click over to the NAMW site and register for the call before it begins at 6 pm eastern time, Wednesday, August 26. If you register, you’ll receive a link to download the recording, so you won’t miss the call even if you can’t dial in live.

I’ve also written a guest post on this topic which will appear the day of the call on Karen Walker’s Following the Whispers blog.

Please join me on the call, in the class, and over at Karen’s blog to learn more about adding dynamic dialogue to your stories.

Write now: write a story and include as much dialogue as you can recall. If you don't remember what people said, write whatever you think they would have said. Don't worry if you aren't 100% accurate. Just write it!

Coming to My Senses

I recently spent a few days on retreat at a friend's house in southern California. Something about the mellow gold and ocher hills and spare landscape of the Golden State strikes me as magical, profoundly relaxing and invigorating. In the stillness of the coastal hills, without the distractions of daily life, I’m able to get in touch with the essentials of life more deeply than usual.

One morning I walked up the steep hill above the house. I went alone, with no agenda and no planned destination, just wandering along a road lined with magnificent mansions scattered among simpler California classics dating back fifty years or more. I went early enough in the morning to avoid the full heat of the day and intense sun exposure, but late enough for the slight chill and haze to burn off.

Warm sunlight activated all sorts of fragrances, and I began to “come to my senses.” Sights, sounds, and smells took on unexpected intensity. I delighted in a sudden burst of fresh, moistly cool fragrance as I stepped beneath an ancient pine tree shading a variety of blooming lilies and other garden plants set in a moist mixture of mulch and dry needles. The scent was intoxicating.

Further along, I noticed a small daisy-like flower that looked like drops of vivid paint splashed on an otherwise bare canvas of muted adobe-colored dirt. I became aware of a multitude of birds chirping a lively chorus in the tree tops, and the churning of an earthmover in a nearby canyon. Houses loomed like mysteries, evoking a sense of pleasantly cool darkness within their thick walls. From the condition of the exterior and landscaping, I could sense distinct personality imprints of their owner, imagining the nature of accumulated belongs inside.

My awareness alternately focused within my body. I noticed how my breathing strained as I walked up the hill. I felt the pull of muscles not often called so intensely into play. I felt my heart pound as it pumped extra blood to oxygen-starved tissue.

I wondered as I wandered. I wondered at the sights and sounds around me. I wondered at the sensations within, at the memories this all evoked, and I wondered what to do with all this awareness. How can I work some of these intensely personal observations into my writing​? Here are a few ideas I came up with to anchor such treasure on the page:

• Turn the walk into a story or essay. If all I do is report on the walk itself, it will be as dry as the dirt under my feet. But if I use the walk as a thread for stringing memory snips triggered by the sensory input, a story will emerge.

• Use fragments as freewriting triggers.

• Take an existing story set in similar surroundings and use this experience to polish descriptions.

This list could be much longer, and serves merely as a tiny preview of the type of material we’ll cover in the Make Your Stories Sparkle teleclass I am teaching for members and friends of the National Association of Memoir Writers next month. Please join me on June 30 for a free* preview conference call to learn more about the class. Those who sign up for the call will receive a link to download a recording the phone call, so you can listen later even if you are unable to participate in the live call.

Write now: go on your own mini-retreat by going for a walk in a park, the countryside, or even the sidewalks around your neighborhood. Location matters less than awareness. When you return, sit down right away and record your observations in a journal or anything you have at hand.

* There is no charge for the call, but normal toll charges will apply to dial in.

November is National Life Writing Month

Yesterday in what I just discovered was an ironic twist, I learned that November is National Life Writing Month. I learned about it when Linda Joy Myers mentioned the occasion while introducing Denis Ledoux, author of Turning Memories into Memoir, as her guest on the National Association of Memoir Writers monthly teleseminar. “As you know,” she said, “November is National Lifewriting Month.” Without elaborating, he confirmed that he knew. Then he went on to enchant us with a sticky web of thoughts about finding the myths in our lives and stories.

This morning I discovered the irony. Denis Ledoux is the originator of National Life Writing Month, but I did not discover this from him. I learned of it when Google led me to a page on Angie Pedersen’s Scrap Your Stories site. She tells how he has been helping both new and experienced memoirists find and express their stories since 1988, and includes a list of Denis’s tips for writing lifestories, and a link to his resource page.

Linda Austin also mentions National Life Writing Month in Cherry Blossom Memories, along with a review and link to Marlys Styne’s blog, Write Your Life, and her helpful book, Senior Writing: A Brief Guide for Seniors Who Want to Write.

Elizabeth Scott includes mention of the therapeutic value of writing to relieve stress in her About.com Stress Management blog.

Since I tuned in late (better late than never, and just wait until next year!) I’m glad National Life Writing Month lasts a month rather than just being a week, and I'm glad it was Denis who launched this month-long observance. His book was one of the first I read ten years ago when I was diving headfirst into this fascinating journey which lent such depth and color to my experience of life in general, and the efforts of Denis and his corps of affiliated teachers have surely had much to do with the explosion of interest in life writing, whether it takes the form of homespun stories, journaling, or literary memoir. I would have begun in any event. Denis's book made it easier and eventually inspired my own.

And, I’m reminded once again of the power of connection and how we learn from and support each other. I feel richly blessed to live in this age of instant communication with its global support web and community. I’m filled with a sense of awe and wonder, and see an image of the circus, with a huge net under the trapeze. That net takes the fear out of flying high! I’m tempted to drop down into it for the sheer joy of bouncing around.

Write now: pick a story from your story idea list and get those fingers moving, and extend your support web by joining the stimulating discussions of various aspects of life writing on the Life Writers’ Forum on YahooGroups and the National Association of Memoir Writers.