“I Could Write About My Sex Life”

Soon after I began teaching lifestory writing, I met with a man I knew only slightly, I’ll call him Sam. Sam wanted my advice on how to write his lifestory. I was several years short of sixty,  and this crumpling man in his late eighties. As usual, I suggested he start with a story idea list and asked him what he might want to write about. I sat patiently for what seemed like an hour while he sat silently, slumped in his chair and lost in thought.

Suddenly he seemed suffused with high noon sunshine as his head lifted. A huge smile spread across his pallid, wrinkled face. “I could write about my sex life!” he said, sounding like a child who just spotted the carnival’s cotton candy stand.

I’m embarrassed to admit this – I remember recoiling in shock. I hope that  reaction was confined to my mind and didn’t show on the surface. Age difference was definitely a factor. It’s true that I would have been stunned to hear anyone say this, male or female, but I would have pursued the topic with someone my age. Generational differences made it unthinkable to pursue it with Sam. I knew that I would absolutely not, under any circumstances, want to read about my parents’ sex life, and he was older than my father. I assumed his children would feel the same way. I’m sure a psychologist could have a ball with my reaction.

“You could …” I demurred. “It might be a little hard for your children to read ….” I swallowed and took another breath. “Is there anything else you might write about?” He visibly deflated. 

The meeting was short. I never saw or heard from Sam again.

I’d answer him differently today. I’d return his radiant smile, maybe wink, and encourage him to write about those lovely memories that obviously gave him great pleasure. He could celebrate the good times and perhaps grieve their decline. I would still alert him to the fact that his children may not want to read those accounts and remind him that he should discuss things with his wife before sharing with anyone else. But I would definitely encourage him to write for himself.

I have no idea how deeply Sam was thinking of delving into those memories or how much detail he might have included. Although I’ve never had a student or writing group member focus a story specifically on sex, some stories do call for at least a mention of the topic. In such cases, observing good taste and privacy while still providing enough detail to retain authenticity can be a challenge. I’ll save that discussion for another time.

For now, suffice it to say that writing about your sex life will bomb if you aren’t comfortable doing so. Freewriting and journaling are the best way to come to grips with your memories and feelings and the heart of your story and message, whatever the topic. Write for yourself first, then make decisions about what, if anything, to share with whom.

Write now: Not everyone has or had a delightful sex life. If you do or did, write about the joy it’s brought you. Tell how it made your life fuller and better. If you don’t or didn’t, write about that. In either case, write privately. In a journal. On scrap paper. On a keyboard. Write freely, bravely. Try lots of points of view. Write about love and lovers. Write about fantasies and spurned pursuits. Write about how and when you learned the facts of life and all you know now. Explore what turns you on and anything else that comes to mind. I guarantee you’ll learn something, and it may be downright pleasurable and fun.

If you wish your writing would spontaneously ignite when you’re done and it doesn’t, head for a fireplace or shredder. If a piece passes the blush test, consider sharing, with trusted friends or your writing group first, then openly.

Pros and Cons of Disclosure

     “Gideon, how are you? I’ve been worrying about you.”
     “Worrying? Why?”
     “Because you–I don’t know, you always get into… adventures that never happen to anyone else. There isn’t anything wrong, is there?”
     “Wrong?” He laughed. “No, of course not.” What was a bomb in the morning mail to the truly adventurous? Besides, why bring it up now when it couldn’t serve any purpose other than to worry her? Later was good enough. If there was going to be any comforting and soothing as a result, he didn’t see why he shouldn’t be there in person for the benefits. “Not that things haven’t been exciting,” he said. “Let’s see, when did we talk last?”

In this short passage from Aaron Elkin’s fourth Gideon Oliver mystery, Old Bones, Gideon Oliver makes a decision not to worry his wife with full disclosure of all details about the perilous adventure he’s become embroiled in while lecturing at a conference in France. His choice to tell or not tell is little different from decisions life writers often face.

Few topics are more passionately discussed than boundaries around what you include in shared stories. Some taut the benefits of disclosure. Joshua Becker tackles this topic on his Becoming Minimalist blog in “Stories We Don’t Tell.” Both sides of the issue are explored in a long list of follow-up comments.

Leah McClellan puts a different spin on the matter in her Simple Writing post, “5 tips for personal stories in blog posts.” Don’t be put off by her focus on blog posts. The factors she explores apply to any lifestory.

As you read these posts, should you choose to do so, and as you make decisions for written disclosures of your own, keep this principle in mind:

Words once read can never be erased.

Factors to consider include

Shocking disclosures forever change relationships. You may get past things, but the knowledge is always there, always a filter, for better (that is possible) or worse. Shocking disclosures can explode in ways you never expected, even years after the fact.

Perspectives may change over time. Anger today, even if the incident occurred a dozen years ago, may look different in another few years. You may eventually want to write the story of how your thoughts and attitude evolved.

Unanticipated fallout for others. Few actions happen in a vacuum. Your disclosures are likely to have impact on one or more other lives. Yes, it’s your story, and you have the right to have your say. Are you willing to perhaps break up someone else’s marriage, create problems for them at work, or start a (another?) war in your family?

Shining light on secrets to bring truth to bear is powerful and healing. But shining bright light directly into the eyes of others may exact a higher price than you realize. Go ahead and write those stories of pain, guilt and trauma. Then use Byron Katie’s tools from The Work to dig more deeply and explore alternate perspectives for insight and transformation. Rewrite your story and share with a trusted friend or adviser before deciding who else should see it and what factors might be involved.

Write now: Write about an old or current resentment and its roots. Use The Work to turn it around. Use this new story to spread love, peace and forgiveness in this season of love and joy.

Eternal Optimists Piss Me Off

At the risk of sounding judgmental (how human would that be?) I’ve got to admit that when I continually hear nothing but rosy accounts from the same person, I grow suspicious, even angry at times.

For example, an elderly woman I knew many years ago never had anything but the kindest, nicest things to say about people, even about people I found monstrously arrogant or rude. She was always smiling and cheerful, even in her nineties when I knew she had aches, pains, and countless physical problems and not everyone treated her well. By her account, people were always delightful, and her cheerfulness never ended.

Get real, Gertie, I thought. Admit it. Some of the cherries in that bowl are rotten.

Another example is an acquaintance who seemed authentically forthright and open. Until serious illness set in. At first, rosy Caring Bridge accounts of awesome friends and caregivers, minimal side effects, and even the blessing of illness seemed brave and spunky. Later, when no post ever mentioned the least affliction of the spirit, I became suspicious. These sound like press releases from the Ministry of Positive Thinking and Eternal Gratitude. What's it really like? What are we not hearing?

Snarky bitch am I not? But those reports increasingly reeked of dishonesty. I became increasingly convinced I was not reading the whole story. I felt disrespected and misled. While happy to hear good reports, I wanted to read about the challenges of remaining positive in spite of the odds, in the face of obstacles. I wanted survival lessons "just in case."

Now, lest you decide I’m totally lacking in compassion, please understand that I realized both these people presumably held back for good reasons. The old lady belonged to an ethnic minority and learned from her first breath not to make waves. My annoyance with her was fleeting. The ill acquaintance was probably hanging on by fingernails, frantically stomping all negative thought, hoping thereby to promote healing for self — and also for the world. This person is like that. Genuinely compassionate and caring, expecting the best of others and determined to set a great example by walking the talk

But it pissed me off. Reports — STORIES, that is — that lack conflict, lack a bit of appropriate, expected pain, suffering and angst don't ring true. Authenticity holds my attention, especially authentic transcendence. You can't transcend what you don't experience and unless you give a fuller picture we don't know but what you had a fortunately light case of whatever, sort of like being passed over by a blizzard after dire forecasts.

I'm not perfect. I obsess, fend off fear, dread and demons of doubt and despair like anyone else. I bite back now and then. So the last thing I want to read or hear about is someone so good, so saintly, that they don't have these carnal thoughts or problems. That makes them unattainably better than me. I must cut them down to size or feel diminished myself. Unfortunately, cutting them down to size makes me feel rotten, not encouraged.

So here's the irony for lifestory and memoir writers:

If we record only the light sides of ourselves, our noble accomplishments — the sides we want to be remembered for and examples we want to provide, we come across as plastic stereotypes who set an unattainable standards. Through perceived insincerity, we run a great risk of pissing off readers.

To claim admiring respect spin around in front of the camera, for at least a quick rotation, and prove that you are/were human. It doesn't have to be much — only what's required to flesh out the story. A few lines of inner reflection may be enough, if they support the story to help readers understand your point and person.

Only vampires and liars lack shadows.

Write now: pull out an overly bright story and add a few lines of shadowed reflection for depth and credibility. Readers will love you for it.

Reading and Writing Across the Gender Divide

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Write Where the Juice Is

When I read this advice recently in Vanessa Talbot’s ebook, 101 Ways to Live Extraordinarily, I thought of one of my great-great-grandmothers. Family legend has it that she opened the first brothel in the Yukon. The topic certainly does give us plenty of food for talk.

Is it true? Did she? We don’t actually know. I’ve given it great thought. That she did go there early on with her new husband and son is established fact. Before she married that husband, she divorced the coal miner she married before emigrating from Scotland to Illinois in 1871. For twenty years this spunky woman had run boarding houses for single miners in order to provide food, clothing and shelter for her two children. Her first husband was an abusive bum who spent his money on whiskey.

So she knew how to provide lodging for others. Demand for room and board was high in the Klondike. It makes sense that she would ply the trade she knew to bring in immediate cash while her men were slogging around in the mud in search of the fortune they never found.

Another trade was in high demand up there. It’s established fact that swarms of women went there to engage in “the world’s oldest profession.” They needed a base of operations. What would make more sense than a pragmatic forty-something matron making mattresses available to this trade? Perhaps this experience was one of the factors leading to her conversion to the newly emerging Mormon faith a few years later when she settled in Seattle.

Again, do I know that her running a brothel is fact? No. Do I plan to check it out? Records from the Klondike could show that she did run at least a boarding house. But the lack of records would not prove that she didn’t. So, no. I do not plan to check it out. I cherish this legend and have no wish to shoot it down. This story has been in the family for generations, perhaps shaming some and delighting others. I’m not going to be the one to kill it. Let future generations cherish it along with us. Soon I will pass it on to the older grandchildren.

For our purposes today as we write our own lifestories, you could choose to purposely do something audacious (scandalous may be a bit over the top) specifically for the purpose of writing about it. That’s what Elizabeth Gilbert did for her memoir Eat Love Pray. Thirty years ago I took up skiing for a single season specifically for the purpose of speaking and writing about it. So far I’ve done neither. It’s time to get that experience on the page.

But chances are you’ve already done something adventurous and colorful, showing a sassy attitude at least some of the time. Something brave and gutsy — the sort of story Sonia Marsh features on her Gutsy Living blog. Read some of those stories online, or do it the easy way and order My Gutsy Story, an anthology of top-rated posts. (I must add a disclaimer here that one of my stories is included, but I have no financial interest in the project.)

Going back to the original advice, the definition of scandalous varies from one generation to another, so what seems utterly outrageous today may seem rather tame tomorrow. Even so, disclosures today can affect relationships today, so exercise the usual discretion when it comes to confessions that could rock many boats.

Whether your story is scandalous or merely colorful, be sure to include reflections about your thoughts and feelings during and after the experience. Did you feel fear? Exhilaration? Guilt? Pride? Create vivid scenes with compelling description and strong, active verbs. Make the story as lively as the experience, and claim your spot in history as a colorful and memorable ancestor who stands out in the crowd. Be the one they talk about.

Write now: make a list of ten gutsy, audacious, perhaps even scandalous things you’ve done. Pick one and write the story! Then write another. Give your descendants something to talk about, and perhaps a standard to live up to.

Alpacas Are Mom Enough

On a recent trip to Bolivia and Peru, our tour group stopped at the mysterious Sillustani burial towers near Puno, Peru. As we hiked up to the site, I was amazed to see a young alpaca nearly as big as the mother root for swigs of milk between mouthfuls of succulent grass. I was equally amazed that Mom didn’t seem to notice. Female  Alapacas are obviously mom enough, I thought, zooming in for a closer look at a picture I took.

My thought harks back to the May 21 Time Magazine cover. Its provocative picture of Jamie Lynn Grumet breastfeeding her three-year-old son as he stands on a stool created a predictable storm of controversy. The caption, “Are You Mom Enough?” added fuel to the fire, seeming to throw down a gauntlet to advocates of early weaning.

A quick search led me to an article showing that the proper age and process for weaning alpaca crias is as controversial among ranchers as the human topic.

You know where this is all going: story time! I became a mother just as Lamaze classes and La Leche League were picking up steam in Boston. Fellow grad student wives introduced me to these cutting edge trends that defied the tradition of the anesthetized birth experiences our  mothers had undergone and the hassle and hazards of bottle feeding. I inadvertently ended up with an “old school” Harvard Med professor obstetrician about my grandfather’s age, and their pep talks prepared me to stand my ground.

My dignified doctor was aghast at my plans to breastfeed. “We don’t raise our young women to be cows!” he said. “We’ll be traveling across the country when the baby is four weeks old …” I shot back. He gruffly conceded the point, but obviously clung to his belief.

Over the ensuing years, conversations with women friends have often ventured onto experiences and memories of breastfeeding. Some did, some didn’t. Some tried and soon switched to bottles for various reasons. 

We talk about it freely, but of all the hundreds of student stories I’ve read over the years, I do not recall a single one addressing the topic of breastfeeding— not even peripherally.

What a shame! What better topic to share with future generations than your experience in this regard, whether it be good, bad, or indifferent. These are the stories that bind generations, and may also serve as encouragement.

Before you write, consider your feelings about the topic. Does it embarrass you? Do you still feel the need to keep a blanket over the topic as you once hid your suckling infant from view? Does the topic of breasts seem too prurient to write about publicly? Where did your attitudes originate?

While you’re on the topic of feelings, think about the physical sensations and emotions involved – the feel of the child in your arms, the chair you generally used, satisfaction, pain, dismay – anything that comes to mind. If you chose to or had to bottle feed, how did you feel about that? Did you feel like a failure for not breastfeeding? Were you relieved? Follow your intuition to the bottom of this feelings barrel. What smells do you recall? How about sounds?

Do you have childhood memories of feeding babies? Did you help bottle feed siblings or babysitting charges? Did your other breastfeed you or your siblings? Did you hear her talk about it?

These questions have no right or wrong answers, but they are important. Weaving insights into a story or essay on the topic will give it life and meaning beyond anything a factual account could possibly achieve. Your thoughts and memories are an important part of the history of child reading and nutrition.

Write now: a story or essay about your experiences with breast or bottle feeding. If you never had children and/or you’re a man, your views still matter. You may not have had the same experience, but everyone has had experiences with this important subject. Please leave a comment about your feelings on writing about this topic.

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.

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

News on Thursday

Thursday I’ll announce some major news that has been a long time in the making.
You know how sometimes you start reading a book and can’t bear to put it down to go to bed? It’s the tension and mystery or drama that keep you turning those pages. That’s the sort of gripping reader involvement we all strive for as we write memoir and shorter life stories. We want to keep readers hanging, panting for the revelation.
That’s an especially big challenge when people know how the story ends before they begin. So what you can do to add that interest?

• Tell them something new, some angle on the situation they didn’t know before.

• Tell them things you’ve never told anyone.

• Hone your story crafting skills to a fine edge.

• Tease them with promises of new information if they just keep reading and make it so tantalizing they’ll hang in there with you. These teasers are also known as hooks. If you lack have a strong hook in the first sentence, or at least the first paragraph, you risk having people put the book down and walk away.

I led into this post with a hook about major news. If you’re like me, you started thinking of possible topics I could announce, and your curiosity is piqued. I’m not going to tell you yet what that news is, but I will tell you how you can be one of the first to hear it: Dial in to the March NAMW Public Memoir Writing Roundtable Tele-conversation at 4 pst / 5 mst / 6 cst / 7 est. I will be joining leading literary and media specialist Kim Dower and host Linda Joy Myers to address the topic of How to Publicize Your Memoir. My news is related to that topic.
Quite aside from the opportunity to get in on breaking news, I hope you’ll join the call because after you follow those tips above and write a killer memoir, whether you sell it to a major publisher or do it yourself as an eBook on Smashwords, you’ll want people to know about it, and that involves publicity. It’s best to plan way ahead on this, almost from the time you decide to write the book. So it’s never too soon to start picking up tips.
For more information and to sign up for the call, click here.
Write now: look through half a dozen of your favorite books, books you could hardly bear to put down, and study the first page. Can you find the hook that caught your attention? Where is it located? What was the bait that got you to bite? What else do you notice about it? Consider what you learned, and write a couple of opening paragraphs for stories of your own.

Lessons from Michelangelo

After twenty years or so, my growing collection of hard drives has bits and pieces of old material hidden away in odd places. I opened one of those odd places today and found a short piece I’d searched for while writing a recent related post about Michelangelo. I wrote the original piece for a newsletter. Don’t be fooled by the third-person parable form; it is a true account of personal experience. The story follows, unchanged from the 1982 original:

One day when Laurie was visiting Guru, he told her a fable about a small boy who asked Michelangelo how he was able to carve a horse out of a solid block of marble. The maestro explained that it was quite simple. He looked at the block, saw the horse inside, and chipped away all the marble that did not look like the horse.

Another day Laurie saw Guru again and, in the course of their conversation, she told him how a mutual friend had, for the avowed purpose of helping her become a better, more successful person, used her as the dumping ground for a tremendous amount of anger and frustration. Even though Laurie had realized that nearly all this anger was expressed at the self-image reflected in the mirror of her face, it still hurt, and a huge gap grew between them.

After a time she did learn some lessons from the experience, more valuable than the ones her friend had intended, and the traumatic memory became a source of strength. Her wound healed, and their friendship was renewed, growing even stronger than before.

Guru listened intently. When she finished, he nodded his head a bit sadly, saying, "I'm happy for you, my dear, but there are always scars..."

His response did not feel quite right, and she thought for a minute. Then she reminded him of Michelangelo's horse and explained that she had no scars. Quite the contrary. In this process, several chunks of marble which had not been part of her true form had been knocked off.

Guru had been right, as far as he went. There were scars. And they remained as long as she continued to feel angry, bitter, and vengeful. The scars were part of the marble which kept her from being fully herself, and once she was able to forgive the friend who inflicted them, those chunks fell away. She emerged, able to move ahead more freely and rapidly with the lightened load.

Like Laurie, we all move around under the weight of chunks of marble we haven't lost yet. For some the chunks may be made of anger and bitterness like they were for her. For others they may be fear, feelings of despair, or self-imposed limitations. They are always attitudes or beliefs, and they always slow us down, keeping us from being all that we could be. We can continue to carry them around, or we can allow them to drop away. The choice is always there, and it is ours to make.

As I recall, I wrote a few unsent letters before those chunks of marble fell away, so a type of journaling was part of the insight process, and a precursor to this story. I’m happy I found this file, because it’s an example of one of my early forms of published life writing, composed before self-disclosure was accepted form. It documents an important life insight, and it illustrates the versatility of life writing. I still like the parable form I chose, because it gracefully accommodates the generalization at the end.

Write now: experiment with writing a short memory in parable form, or as a short story using third person and an assumed name. Contrast that with the same story written in first person as your own experience. If you belong to a writing group, ask for input on the strengths and weaknesses of each form. If you’re looking for a(nother) writing group, you are welcome to join the Life Writers’ Forum. We don’t post much writing, but we have great discussions about writing.

Writing without Shadow

"Writing without shadow has no depth."

I wish I had written down the source of that quote. It reminds me of the importance of including dark notes in my memoir along with the bright ones. It's so tempting to leave out those times when we didn't get the prize, when we were the last one chosen, didn't have a date for Homecoming, or felt despair of every finding love. Those are not fun stories to remember, much less to write, and not ones we generally care to share.

The graphic above says it all. Simple facts make a bland story. Adding some detail may brighten it up and vastly improve it. To make it pop off the page and become memorable and true, you need shadow. The interplay of light and dark is what gives it depth, mystery and magic. Darkness is the purview of fear and tension, keys to compelling stories.

As you can see from the graphic above, it doesn't take much darkness to give perspective and define the light. Below are a few simple tips like these to add a dash of darkness to your story.

Tell of failures as well as success — Besides the story of winning the spelling bee, tell how you were the last one picked for the fifth grade softball team.

Give an inside perspective — Don't just say you were the last one picked. Tell how it felt. "I stood there staring at my toes, praying to be struck by lightning, or at least to get sick enough to go home and hide in bed for the rest of the school year."

Admit to human frailties — Tell about times you broke a promise or twisted the truth.

Include doubts and fears —Highlight your walk across the stage to receive your diploma with the thoughts running through your mind, like "I never thought I'd make it. I was sure Mr. Frank would fry my sorry ass on that last term paper and test. That man hates me!" Better yet, tell about your struggles with Mr. Frank before graduation.

Show simple flaws — Occasional reference to thick glasses, knock-knees, shyness, stuttering, or some other simple  flaw lends depth to your character (generally yourself). You needn't dwell on these things, or mention them on every page. Less is more, but some is great.

One of the best ways to master the art of the shadow is to read the work of established writers. Study how they describe characters. Look for the sources of tension. What keeps your interest? Try to incorporate your discoveries into your own work.

Write now: write a new story (or revise an old one) to sprinkle in a few dark elements. Share the story with a writer friend some other discerning reader and ask for their suggestions on how to improve the story.

Connecting Dots

Generated by Stellarium 0.10.2

The urge to use stories to make sense of our lives and share them with others is hardwired into the human brain. Some of us write these stories, others tell them. Some of the stories are public, some are intensely private, told only to ourselves. Whatever their form or level of disclosure, we all have stories, and we begin telling them as language dawns.

In Child Development, Second Edition: A Practitioner's Guide, Douglas Davies states, “The stories of 2-year-olds...use narrative language to bring a personal sense of order and understanding to their experience.” He includes a transcripted story recorded by the parents of 28-month-old Emily. Her elaborate tale organized her understanding of a trip to the beach the following day.

My daughter was telling stories well before her second birthday. The first I remember was one she told me when she was 18 or 20 months old, as I was tucking her in: “Daddy go Dibby house. Play bridge.” She needed to explain why Daddy wasn't there for a night-night hug that night. That same daughter now shares her tiny girls'stories.

Using stories to make sense of the world and cosmos goes back to the dawn of civilization. All cultures have some story of origin, and stories of gods, reasons and seasons. We are reminded of these stories every time we look at the stars and see Orion, or the Dippers. The Greeks and Romans concocted elaborate myths around clusters of stars that they designated as constellations.

Constellations are a perfect metaphor for stories, because they involve connecting dots to create structures of meaning and insight. Toddlers use dots of knowledge, connecting them to build a structure for understanding life and self and make it predictable. Early man connected dots of light to explain the gods and cosmic events, and to find their way around the earth. Twelve constellations are still studied by students of the Zodiac to predict and explain world and personal events and make decisions.

Modern people have not changed so much as we might think from ancient times or early life. We still tell stories, to ourselves and each other. We tell them socially, on cell phones, by e-mail and by Tweeting. We tell them to friends. We tell them to strangers. Both stories and understanding grow and develop in the telling.

But told stories are soon forgotten. What better way to make enduring sense of our own lives than to get our fingers around a pen or on a keyboard and make some dots of memory visible, then connect those dots and develop a durable story? That's what memoir is all about ̶ compiling chaotic, random memories into a coherent, organized story that deepens our understanding and awareness of life, heals mind, body and soul, and gives us much to be grateful for ̶ and creates a legacy of story for future generations.

Write now: explore some of the stories you have written and look for dots of shared content that can be connected to create themes and structure.

Teachable Moments

Today’s Pittsburgh Post-Gazette features a story, Looking to Impart a Lesson, that discusses President Obama’s White House meeting “over a cool one” with Harvard professor Henry Gates and Boston Police Sgt. James Crowley scheduled for later today. Author Sally Kalson includes a quote from Ellen DeBeneditti, training coordinator for conflict resolution and mediation services of the Center for Victims of Violence and Crime:

“What could come out of this meeting, if it's done well, is that both sides have a better understanding of where the other one is coming from . . . resolution is not the only good outcome. Increased understanding of the other person's perceptions is also good. If there's a sense that you've been heard and gotten your point across, it's easier to be receptive to hearing the other person.”

Figures in the public spotlight are not the only ones with differing viewpoints and “teachable moments”. Families and community groups encounter these differences all the time, and life writing has something to offer in these situations. Writing and sharing stories of events in our lives, especially the touchy ones, is a powerful way of getting incidents out on the table where they can be aired and understood, paving the way for increased mutual understanding and respect.

Two things happen when you write a story. First, by getting your thoughts on paper, you make them visible and begin to forge them into a narrative, weaving them together in a more coherent fashion. Many people find things make more sense when their thoughts are out there, visible on the page, either in print or on the screen.

Second, it provides a way of getting the whole story out before discussion begins. A frequent response from a family member who reads a story of some past conflict or event is “I had no idea you felt that way,” or “I didn’t realize it affected you that way.” Had the matter been brought up in conversation, there are any number of reasons the account may have stopped short of full disclosure.

I hope today’s beer bash will indeed result in increased understanding and respect, but regardless of the outcome, I hope you’ll use your own life stories to build increased understanding and respect within your families and community groups.

Write now: about a tense situation you encountered with a family member. It may be recent or long past. The to best of your ability and memory, include your perceptions and reactions. Tell how you felt about the situation. When you finish editing the story to your satisfaction, share it with one or more family members and wait for their responses. Hopefully you'll all come to a better understanding of each other's sensitivites and points of view.

Following the Whispers

“There is no such thing as an average memoir, but if there were, Karen Walker’s story, Following the Whispers — Creating a life of inner peace and self-acceptance from the depths of despair, would not be among them.”

So begins the review of Following the Whispers that I wrote last month after reading this remarkable book that is hot off the press. Rather than going into detail about the book here, I encourage you to click over and read that review.

I was especially impressed with Karen's amazing ability to compress a huge chunk of life into a mere 163 pages, and to do it in a way that feels complete, without loose ends. Wanting to know more about how she accomplished this feat, I contacted her and invited her to be the first guest on a new series of podcasts that I am launching to supplement the written content of this blog.

As you listen to the fifteen minute interview, you'll discover that we ran far afield of our original topic, covering some interesting territory like the personal transformation she underwent during her twenty-year journey to complete this book, self-publishing, and personal essays. Tune in to learn the secret of writing a juicy and compelling essay. Click the arrow on the audio player below to listen to the podcast now, or right-click the link below and select "Save Link As" to download it for listening later.

Note: Since publishing this post, I discovered the player does not appear in Internet Explorer, due to conflicts between Google's Blogspot software, code for the Google MP3 player and IE requirements. If you don't see the player, left-click the link below to play the podcast, and right-click it to download the file. Of course you could switch to Firefox... I see myself climbing another level of the learning curve very soon!

Right-click to download MP3

For further information about Karen and to read some of her stories, visit her website.

Please let me know what you think of the podcast. I'm considering doing them every now and then, and I welcome suggestions for guests. I encourage you to suggest yourself if you have some experience to share about life writing and/or a self-published book.

Write now: use the secret Karen shares in the podcast to write a personal essay.

I Had a Dream

I had a dream — and so did you. Whether we remember them or not, dreams are an integral part of normal sleep. Dreams have rich potential for lifewriters and memoirists, but this resource is seldom tapped. In fact, this resource is seldom even remembered. But considering that the average person spends about two hours a night dreaming (that adds up to something like six years total over an average lifespan), our dream life is definitely worth further exploration for the insight it can provide. and including dream content in stories can add poignancy to our writing.

If you write about your dreams at all (sleeping or otherwise), your probably do it in a journal. Journal therapists frequently urge people to keep a special journal by their bedside to record dreams as soon as they wake. With practice and firm intention, it becomes easier to remember dreams and record the key components. Since ancient times people have been curious about what their dreams meant. Information on dream interpretation abounds in print and on the Internet, but in the final analysis, it’s your dream, and it’s your analysis that counts.

I find that journaling about a dream usually leads into writing further thoughts on the dream topic, and a page or two of this kind of freewriting often clears up ambiguities in my thinking about all sorts of things. I’m not an avid dream journaler, but I have begun to remember and record them more often and definitely recommend the process

While dream journals are not uncommon, few people take advantage of the depth and richness dreams can add to stories. Linda Joy Myers, president of NAMW (the National Association of Memoir Writers) begins her memoir, Don’t Call Me Mother, with a dream about riding on a train. That dream is a powerful image and draws readers into the story like a magnet. Linda Joy references that dream often as she develops the story, using it as a sort of metaphor for her relationship with her mother and a cornerstone of her story.

A conference speaker I heard awhile back (I wish I remembered who she was so I could give her credit), had a fascinating observation about dreams: nobody can argue with the truth of a dream because they aren’t “real” to begin with. So, she advised us, “If you have some difficult truth to tell, consider using a dream to tell it.” An audible gasp went up from the room at the thought that she was recommending fabricating dreams! Some were horrified; others were stunned at the cleverness of this solution.

Since there is no scientifically definitive explanation of what a dream is or the purpose it serves, dreams can legitimately be whatever we want or need them to be. For example, day dreams are dreams. We have hopes and dreams. So if we dream of a certain circumstance, whatever the time we envision, is that any less real as a dream? If I had any doubts before, they were resolved that day. You can always use some disclaimer like, “Did I dream that?” Or, “As I awoke, I recalled a dream about riding the train ... ." As I thought about the dream, I realized that (this certain circumstance) was a lot like that...” Or perhaps some unfolding event “took on the surreal quality of a dream...”

At the bottom line, dreams are the ideal solution for ducking disputes about the accuracy of imagination and expressing the way you wish things had been. Given the amount of time you spend having them, don’t you think your dreams deserve more attention and space in your writing?

Write now: start a dream journal or log. It doesn’t have to be fancy — a small spiral notebook, or even loose sheets of paper kept in a folder, and use a dream as the basis of a story or story segment.

The Turkey Farm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What Is the Truth of a Tree?

What is the truth of a tree? What’s to wonder about? A tree is a tree. Maybe the truth is that it is an oak tree. Or a pine tree. Or is the truth of a tree that it is in a forest in Colorado, or by a creek in Texas? Is the tree’s truth its age?

Maybe the truth of a tree is the birds that nest in its branches, or the fading of its leaves in autumn. Could it be the sap that runs in its veins, or the growth ring it acquires each year, expanding its girth? Maybe the truth of the tree is the fruit or seeds it produces, or the playground it provides for squirrels. Or the shade it sheds to shelter sensitive plants.

Perhaps the tree’s truth lies in the lumber it produces for building shelters, or the logs it yields for warming fuel. Its truth may emerge in newsprint, carrying other truth to your eyes.

These suggestions are all made from the eyes of an observer. What would the tree claim as its own truth? “I sprouted from an acorn 86 springs ago. I have survived droughts, floods, and kids nailing cleats to my trunk. I survived three onslaughts of gypsy moths, hordes of woodpeckers, boring beetles, and all sorts of other irritations. I have an ongoing relationship with the cute little maple growing next to me, and appreciate all the delicious thanks offerings the birds leave at my feet while perching on my branches.”

So, what is the truth of a tree? All this and more!

If discovering the truth of a tree is this challenging, how much more so the truth of your life.

As I wrote my Morning Pages recently, I had a vision of Truth as a lens, not an entity, which is the way I’ve been inclined to view it. Like, “What is the real truth of this situation?” The ultimate, core Truth?

Take the example of a child hitting a sibling. Mother asks, “Why did you hit her?” “She kicked my blocks over.” That sounds pretty fundamental, and with small children things tend to be so. But that truth is only part of the overall picture. Why did the sibling kick the blocks over? Why did the child choose the option of hitting rather than tattling? Were one or both of the children tired?

Truth is not a simple thing, and it is not a synonym for confession. To write truth, you need a point of view, and as you consider the situation, you’ll find layer upon layer, one angle after another. Part of your decision about which truth to write will depend on who you perceive your readers to be.

Now that I’ve built the case that there is no ultimate Truth, I’ll qualify that statement. A few years ago a friend’s husband lay dying. Many of her friends were baffled that she had prolonged his life in various ways for so long. Even she knew it made little sense. “What is keeping you from letting go,” I asked her one day.

“I love him, and I can’t imagine life without him.”

That, my friends, is Ultimate Truth, stripped down to the core. It doesn’t come from reason, logic, or explanation. There is truth, and there is Truth. Inescapable, unarguable Truth comes from the heart, and when you hear Truth, your heart tells you it is so. Whatever your point of view, whatever boundaries you put around disclosure, writing from the depths of your heart will convey Truth.

Write now: a list of seven statements that are Ultimate Truths in your life. Ultimate truth is that simple. It requires no more than a single statement.

Tag! You're It!

“Tag! You're it!” Remember playing tag when you were young? Sometimes we played on the school playground, but more often we played with the neighbor kids. When we first moved to Los Alamos, our house was on a mesa top two lots deep, with a steep grassy slope down to the street. The front yards didn't have much flat space, so the game got interesting as we scrambled up and down the slope in chase or eluding pursuit. I don't even remember all the varieties. I just remember plain old tag and freeze tag, and the details of the latter elude me.

All these years later, I've discovered that the blogging community plays tag too, and the playing field may be as narrow and sloping as the one on Walnut Street. Pat from Pat's Place tagged me in a game of Name Your Quirks tag. According to the rules, I'm supposed to

• Link to the person who tagged me.
• Mention the rules in my blog.
• Talk about six unspectacular quirks of mine.
• Tag a new set of six bloggers by linking to them.

When I first discovered I'd been tagged, I didn't see how disclosing my own quirks fit with the purpose and focus of a blog on lifestory writing. But ... a tag is a tag, and as I thought about it, I saw a path between the rocks and down that hill! Each quirk carries the germ of a story, but you don't need to get that involved — you can cache quirks in corners of random stories. Any story will become more personal and juicy if you work in a quirk or two of your own or someone else's. Let me load my list, and then I'll show you how.

• I love chili peppers, the hotter, the better.
• Our ticking grandfather clock makes me crazy, but I miss it when it runs down.
• I dislike making phone calls but love getting them.
• I prefer assymetrical balance.
• I use recycled glass jars for storying leftovers in the refrigerator.
• I hate the words “fridge” and “nuke” (as in use a microwave).

So, if I'm writing a story that has a scene in the kitchen, I can make it glow with personal presence by sliding in a reference to putting those leftovers in an old salsa jar to stick in the refrigerator. Or, I may have a little dialog in that scene where I cringe at hearing someone else talk about the fridge or nuking the frozen peas.

You don't have to stick to your own quirks. To add depth and make other people in your stories seem more real, tell how your uncle's mustache glistened with droplets of his spluttering when he got excited, or how your sister always twirled her hair while she watched television. Few things add color the way quirks do, and it's not nearly as complicated to add a few as it may seem.

Now I hope to read about quirks from Linda at Cherry Blossom Memories, Ybonesy and QuoinMonkey at red Ravine, Janet at Riehl Life, Tara at Soul Blessings, Susan at Sue's Muse, and Rev at Your Neighborhood Reverend.

Write now: about six or more of your own quirks. If you remember, tell how they originated. Explain how they shape your life, and what impact they have on you. Have you ever tried to change or drop a quirk? What happened? Have you ever been teased about a quirk? Write a couple of practice sentences for each that includes the quirk as a form of personal description. Or, write about playing tag. Who did you play with? When and where did you play? What were the rules?

Reactions to Gretchen

After posting my introduction to Gretchen, my newly emerged Inner Censor, I read it to a writing group. The first response was, “Is this fiction or what?”

“No. It is not fiction. Strange as it may sound, I did meet Gretchen, and she is quite real — at least to me.” That explanation sparked a lively discussion of reality, truth, writing about arcane events and beliefs and all sorts of good things. Somebody mentioned that it’s normal for children to have imaginary playmates.

“Sarabelle and Gretchen are not imaginary.” I assured them. A few eyeballs briefly rolled at that. If they didn’t know me so well by now, I have no doubt that some would suggest medication or exorcism!

After several minutes, we collectively agreed that I had accessed some deeper well of creativity in my right brain, and all considered it a fun story and intriguing concept, whatever the source. That seems to represent comfortable common ground for all belief systems, from secular to sacred, and it’s a tidy and functional way of putting things.

This discussion poses an interesting dilemma. If I put the story of my Inner Writing Team and all the conversations I have with seemingly imaginary people in a collection of stories for future generations, they may well think that Granny was a total nutcase, assume that these conversations are purely creative writing, or both.

Obviously, if I want them to be taken seriously, I must place these stories in a larger context. I could take the easy way out and simply explain them as the workings of various aspects of my creative subconscious, but I’m inclined to be a little more explicit. I do believe there’s more to it than that, but the alternate explanations are highly intuitive and fuzzy in my mind. It's a matter of degrees of self-disclosure. For strangers and casual acquaintances, the easy answer is fine.

One major challenge I face in writing such a story is that it keeps changing. My understanding continues to evolve as I learn new things and explore various aspects of what I already know. I anticipate this will be the case as long as I live, so whatever I write can be only an approximation. Perhaps I need to take my own advice and remember that “anything I write about this is better than writing nothing.”

Write now: about a non-traditional idea you have, whether in the “woo-woo” realm or simply questioning common wisdom and beliefs.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal