Most of us hate to talk about things we're not good at. We hate to do them. We hate to think about them. And we often go great lengths to avoid them. But they sure are fun to read about (and watch! Didn't we love America's Funniest Home Videos?).
Very often, what we do when we are frustrated reveals the very core of our beliefs and temperament. Think about the last time that you were frustrated. What caused the frustration? How did you deal with it? What strengths did you use? What weaknesses do you try to avoid?
This week, let's concentrate on our weaknesses--the hilarity that they can produce and the opportunities for improvement that they have provided!
Encouragement and support for participants in Plum Library's six week life writing course in correlation with Allegheny County Library Association's One Book One Community 2012.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Friday, April 26, 2013
New Week, New Voice
DISCLAIMER: As always, the exercise suggested in this post is just that--a suggestion only. If you have something you are working on, please keep going! We're proud of you and your efforts and don't want to disrupt that! But if you're stuck or bored, well, just consider the exercise and see if it helps you.
I've been talking about voice with people a lot this week--literally, figuratively, and in the Englishy writing-type way.
Today, I am talking about voice as in "Who is telling me this story and how are they talking to me?"
Usually, when we write memoir, we write it from the first-person point of view, and most often our voice is the one we have now, at this moment, at this age of our lives. This voice is all well and good, particularly since most of us have decided to tell this story from this point of view at this point in our lives. But it can also be limiting.
Staying in our own voice sometimes closes our eyes and ears to the voices of others.
This week's assignment is to consider the voices of the others in your story. You can do this many ways:
I've been talking about voice with people a lot this week--literally, figuratively, and in the Englishy writing-type way.
Today, I am talking about voice as in "Who is telling me this story and how are they talking to me?"
Usually, when we write memoir, we write it from the first-person point of view, and most often our voice is the one we have now, at this moment, at this age of our lives. This voice is all well and good, particularly since most of us have decided to tell this story from this point of view at this point in our lives. But it can also be limiting.
Staying in our own voice sometimes closes our eyes and ears to the voices of others.
This week's assignment is to consider the voices of the others in your story. You can do this many ways:
- You can try telling a story from their point-of-view (being sure, of course, to throw in disclaimers that this is your perception and/or imagination of how they might have been feeling or thinking).
- You can bring in aspects of their personality from other sources: excerpts of letters, pictures they took, songs they sang, routines they followed, food they ate, etc.
- You can escape the pitfalls of entering another person's head by considering the point of view of a pet or an inanimate object (how did the desk feel when it knew you were chewing bubblegum?).
Friday, March 22, 2013
The Ordinary
NOTE: No class on Friday, March 29, 2013. The next class will meet Friday, April 6, 2013.
Alfred Hitchcock is quoted as saying, "Drama is life with the boring bits cut out."
One of my sixth-grade teachers, Mr. Hellsley, often said, "There are no boring things, only boring people."
As a writer, I have come to the conclusion that (nearly) anything can be made to be either interesting (even watching paint dry!), especially when it's tied to something we know or can sense.
This week, our assignment is partially an incentive for us to use our new skills from Jamie's presentation on pictures in class and partially to get us used to including everyday details in our writing to reveal character.
Here are two quick examples/ideas:
For example, this picture from our (3rd) wedding day (yes, same husband--long story) illustrates a milestone in life but also our day-to-day steps. Even in his borrowed tuxedo, my husband needs to carry our (always) wailing second child while trying to find his parents, who had somehow (as often happens) gotten separated from us. As usual I am smiling even though we're in the midst of mess like this--not sure where the family was, not certain where to go next, with one sick child and another bored out of his mind and properly bribed with a Power Rangers sword and candy, and talking. I always smile and talk, no matter how I feel. The occasion is what links us to many people--many people have been married or been to a wedding. Our interactions--my talking, my husband's calling, my oldest son's sword play, and my youngest son's wailing--make us the people that we are and reveal our characters.
2. Use a picture from something everyday but unfold your description in a story form.
For example, here's a picture of the living room after the kids have been into it. There's so much I can say to let this story unfold. I can tell the story from the point of view of the Play-Doh. I could tell it as I'm cleaning up or as I watch it unfold. I can tell it reminiscently as perhaps some of those messes are long gone. Each item in this picture can be tied to the person that put it there and the way their action of putting rubs against someone else's (usually my) idea of order.
This week's assignment is to use photographs to tell one of these types of stories.
Alfred Hitchcock is quoted as saying, "Drama is life with the boring bits cut out."
One of my sixth-grade teachers, Mr. Hellsley, often said, "There are no boring things, only boring people."
As a writer, I have come to the conclusion that (nearly) anything can be made to be either interesting (even watching paint dry!), especially when it's tied to something we know or can sense.
This week, our assignment is partially an incentive for us to use our new skills from Jamie's presentation on pictures in class and partially to get us used to including everyday details in our writing to reveal character.
Here are two quick examples/ideas:
1. Use a
picture from a major event but use the discrepancy between the
momentousness of the event and your own mundane actions to highlight
your personality.
For example, this picture from our (3rd) wedding day (yes, same husband--long story) illustrates a milestone in life but also our day-to-day steps. Even in his borrowed tuxedo, my husband needs to carry our (always) wailing second child while trying to find his parents, who had somehow (as often happens) gotten separated from us. As usual I am smiling even though we're in the midst of mess like this--not sure where the family was, not certain where to go next, with one sick child and another bored out of his mind and properly bribed with a Power Rangers sword and candy, and talking. I always smile and talk, no matter how I feel. The occasion is what links us to many people--many people have been married or been to a wedding. Our interactions--my talking, my husband's calling, my oldest son's sword play, and my youngest son's wailing--make us the people that we are and reveal our characters.
2. Use a picture from something everyday but unfold your description in a story form.
For example, here's a picture of the living room after the kids have been into it. There's so much I can say to let this story unfold. I can tell the story from the point of view of the Play-Doh. I could tell it as I'm cleaning up or as I watch it unfold. I can tell it reminiscently as perhaps some of those messes are long gone. Each item in this picture can be tied to the person that put it there and the way their action of putting rubs against someone else's (usually my) idea of order.
This week's assignment is to use photographs to tell one of these types of stories.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Routine
Okay, it's been so long since a post for this class that I'm ashamed to even apologize for it. So I'm going to just skip the what's happening and get to the what can we be doing part.
And recently, we are looking at routine.
Looking at routine started because I'm thinking that we follow routines for two reasons:
But even if routine springs from hypothesis 1, detailing a routine can show (not tell) you a whole lot about someone's personality, and that's what I'm hoping that you will find.
So this week's assignment (and maybe next week's too because I'm so behind), is to think about one of your routines and why or how you do it. It may reveal something that comforted you and/or show us a glimpse of those who came before (for example, our tea drinking tradition in my family extends at least 3 generations back, and I suspect more. I'm not drinking tea by myself; I'm drinking with great grandmothers).
To make the task more effective (harder), try doing some or all of the following:
And recently, we are looking at routine.
Looking at routine started because I'm thinking that we follow routines for two reasons:
- They are the default and we simply don't know another way (or don't care to know another way) of doing them; OR
- These are the things that have brought us joy in the past. Doing things this way has made us happy before, and we are bargaining that it might do so again.
But even if routine springs from hypothesis 1, detailing a routine can show (not tell) you a whole lot about someone's personality, and that's what I'm hoping that you will find.
So this week's assignment (and maybe next week's too because I'm so behind), is to think about one of your routines and why or how you do it. It may reveal something that comforted you and/or show us a glimpse of those who came before (for example, our tea drinking tradition in my family extends at least 3 generations back, and I suspect more. I'm not drinking tea by myself; I'm drinking with great grandmothers).
To make the task more effective (harder), try doing some or all of the following:
- Avoid was/is and try more active verbs.
- See if you can avoid dialogue in just this piece and see if you can show us your thoughts/your characters thoughts through their actions.
- Consider using the senses and intelligences to get us into the scene. See http://livesinletters.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html for a reminder on that if you need one.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Practical and Impractical
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I just want to thank you for your patience. The last two weeks have been long, and I was not productive--unless you call healing productive, which I guess is something.
Anyway, in the midst of my un-productivity, I watched a lot of shows, read a book or so, and came to a conclusion about something that I've been mulling over: what hooks you on a book.
Now, I'm going to stop and say in no uncertain terms something that will seem completely sacrilegious to anyone who's been reading about writing in the last 50 years.
Anyway, in the midst of my un-productivity, I watched a lot of shows, read a book or so, and came to a conclusion about something that I've been mulling over: what hooks you on a book.
Now, I'm going to stop and say in no uncertain terms something that will seem completely sacrilegious to anyone who's been reading about writing in the last 50 years.
I AM NOT
GOING TO TALK
ABOUT THE FIRST
ANYTHING.
Not the first line, the first paragraph, the first page, or the first fifty pages.
Instead, I'm going to talk about something that seems to me much more fundamental. And that is, for a book or story of any sort to really succeed, there must come a point in which the reader must know how it ends and puts it down only under duress.
For me, at least, I am willing to give a book a little time to grow on me, and I think that most readers are the same. The amount of time we give varies by reader. I think most editors, possibly by virtue of the sheer number of submissions they get, put manuscripts and books down rather quickly. Those who don't sincerely love books probably put them back after the first few pages (possibly less) unless they are hooked. Even those who adore books only persist so long. I often give books 25-50 pages, noting last week that I didn't really get into the most recent book of one of my favorite authors until page 52. But then something strange happened. Somewhere around page 130, I couldn't put that book down. When I did put it down, I was annoyed at whoever had come between my book and me. I just had to finish that book. And I realized that that's how most of the books I read are. To be honest, I have quit reading many books in the middle because they fail to pick up speed. If I do finish, it's because the book starts to bolt forward.
And so, I'd like us just to think about why this is. Do you have the same experience, or is it just me? What would help us achieve this drive? Should we start at the end? Should we severely edit the end of the book in order to improve the rhythm? I'm not really sure.
This week's assignment, then, will explore this concept. I have two potential ideas:
Instead, I'm going to talk about something that seems to me much more fundamental. And that is, for a book or story of any sort to really succeed, there must come a point in which the reader must know how it ends and puts it down only under duress.
For me, at least, I am willing to give a book a little time to grow on me, and I think that most readers are the same. The amount of time we give varies by reader. I think most editors, possibly by virtue of the sheer number of submissions they get, put manuscripts and books down rather quickly. Those who don't sincerely love books probably put them back after the first few pages (possibly less) unless they are hooked. Even those who adore books only persist so long. I often give books 25-50 pages, noting last week that I didn't really get into the most recent book of one of my favorite authors until page 52. But then something strange happened. Somewhere around page 130, I couldn't put that book down. When I did put it down, I was annoyed at whoever had come between my book and me. I just had to finish that book. And I realized that that's how most of the books I read are. To be honest, I have quit reading many books in the middle because they fail to pick up speed. If I do finish, it's because the book starts to bolt forward.
And so, I'd like us just to think about why this is. Do you have the same experience, or is it just me? What would help us achieve this drive? Should we start at the end? Should we severely edit the end of the book in order to improve the rhythm? I'm not really sure.
This week's assignment, then, will explore this concept. I have two potential ideas:
- Write a story about your life beginning at the end and moving forwards (in other words, write your last sentence first and slowly build forward).
- Write a story about reading a book that was truly important to you. Instead of writing an essay, write a story. Don't tell me what the book's about, tell me about how you got hooked. Tell me about why you kept reading. Tell me why you read it a second or third time.
Friday, February 8, 2013
When You're Too Tired
I know I've talked about this before, but I'm going to put the easy stories into a new perspective.
No one thinks it is a weakness to eat a meal. No one considers it a weakness to sleep from time to time. Runners take breaks and drink water. Weight lifting routines require breaks for the muscles to recover.
Similarly, writers can't stare down the devil every moment of every day and expect to be okay. There will come times that story writing with get you down, down, very, very down.
That doesn't mean that there isn't a time for staring down the devil, for taking all of those terrible emotions and committing them to the page, or for delving through those less-than-comforting memories of the past. There absolutely is--just like there's a time for fasting, all-nighters, marathons, and weight-lifting regimes. But you can't do it twenty-four hours a day seven days a week.
Simply put, you must take a break, or you will burn out.
More than that, you don't want to simply take a break from writing. Instead, you want to associate writing with something positive, something fun, something refreshing to your soul. Furthermore, even though you want to take a break, you want your break to stretch you.
How?
Think of it like a vacation. Many vacations are both fun and edifying (and by edifying, I mean stretching. You don't need to go to the Smithsonian on your vacation to learn something).
So how do you take a writing vacation, particularly in memoir? (My examples are in the hollow bullets.)
Facing down the stuff that shaped us, the stuff that bent us, and the stuff that made us who we are is important, healthy, and cathartic. It is also exhausting. We need emotional restoration as well.
PS - If you say restoration stands in the way of finishing, I have only two arguments. First, if you're too emotionally spent to finish, then you're not getting anywhere anyway. Secondly, it's very hard for anyone to read a memoir of unrelenting hardship. Even the saddest stories have bright spots. And those bright spots throw even more emphasis on the dark ones, creating greater interest and impact. So go for it! Take a break!
No one thinks it is a weakness to eat a meal. No one considers it a weakness to sleep from time to time. Runners take breaks and drink water. Weight lifting routines require breaks for the muscles to recover.
Similarly, writers can't stare down the devil every moment of every day and expect to be okay. There will come times that story writing with get you down, down, very, very down.
That doesn't mean that there isn't a time for staring down the devil, for taking all of those terrible emotions and committing them to the page, or for delving through those less-than-comforting memories of the past. There absolutely is--just like there's a time for fasting, all-nighters, marathons, and weight-lifting regimes. But you can't do it twenty-four hours a day seven days a week.
Simply put, you must take a break, or you will burn out.
More than that, you don't want to simply take a break from writing. Instead, you want to associate writing with something positive, something fun, something refreshing to your soul. Furthermore, even though you want to take a break, you want your break to stretch you.
How?
Think of it like a vacation. Many vacations are both fun and edifying (and by edifying, I mean stretching. You don't need to go to the Smithsonian on your vacation to learn something).
So how do you take a writing vacation, particularly in memoir? (My examples are in the hollow bullets.)
- First, think of joy or peace or any other good, refreshing feeling you have had.
- refreshing, surprise, laughter
- Locate one particular instance in which that feeling manifested itself.
- My first date with my husband
- Put that part on paper.
- DH drove from Daegu to Cheongju. I had gotten lost on the way home from church and so I was late meeting him. He was sweating to beat the band because he'd agreed to wear a red sweatshirt so I would know who he was but it was about 85 degrees that day. I saw him, waved, and immediately fell over a hole in the sidewalk. The whole date went like that.
- Next, think about some type of writing or expression you've always loved but have never dared to try (or one that you haven't tried in a while)--it could be poetry, song lyrics, visual poetry, emoticons, a short story, a fairy tale--any kind of genre you've always wanted to play with.
- I'd love to try to write this date/marriage to the tune/structure of Harry Chapin's "Cat in the Cradle." I've never been able to thread narrative, allusion, and dialogue together like that, and I love it.
- Think carefully about what type of structure that genre has and what information you need about your instance to create one of those stories.
- I need (1) the narrative for the verses; (2) the allusions; (3) the dialogue; and most importantly (4) THE POINT!
- Collect that information.
- You'll have to wait till next week for that. But you get the picture.
- Try to put it together.
Facing down the stuff that shaped us, the stuff that bent us, and the stuff that made us who we are is important, healthy, and cathartic. It is also exhausting. We need emotional restoration as well.
PS - If you say restoration stands in the way of finishing, I have only two arguments. First, if you're too emotionally spent to finish, then you're not getting anywhere anyway. Secondly, it's very hard for anyone to read a memoir of unrelenting hardship. Even the saddest stories have bright spots. And those bright spots throw even more emphasis on the dark ones, creating greater interest and impact. So go for it! Take a break!
Friday, February 1, 2013
Earning It
Over the last month or so, we've been talking about projects--getting them done, making them unified, facing obstacles in our paths, and setting intermediate goals.
Today is going to be a more contemplative post about memoir, sharing, and the writing process.
Our goal this week is to recognize the point that we want to make at story's end and make sure that we have put in enough hints, action, and vivid evidence to justify the insight we choose to share (or maybe more appropriately, unveil) at the end.
How do you do that?
Today is going to be a more contemplative post about memoir, sharing, and the writing process.
"i ain't gonna tell you" she said and turned her head
"ain't gonna tell me what" i asked
"what you asking me you gotta live to be seventy-nine
fore you could understand anyhow"
"now you being uppity" i said
"yeah but i earned it" ...
~ Nikki Giovanni, from "Conversation"
My verses have "touches of truth in them" ~ James Laughlin, from "Death Lurches Toward Me"
"Your job is not to judge your characters, no matter how despicable or wonderful they may be. Your job is to lay out what happens, as clearly and dispassionately as possible, show how it affects the protagonist, and then get the hell out of the way." ~ Lisa Cron, from Wired for StoryMemoir and fiction share many aspects: story arc, vivid description, a reliance on characterization. But they also differ in an important aspect: Memoirs are true, and we want to hear the writer's opinion. You do not need to be dispassionate, but, like Nikki Giovanni's old woman, you need to earn your wisdom in the eye of your reader.
Our goal this week is to recognize the point that we want to make at story's end and make sure that we have put in enough hints, action, and vivid evidence to justify the insight we choose to share (or maybe more appropriately, unveil) at the end.
How do you do that?
- Make sure the conflict of your story is directly related to your point.
- Show as much of all sides of the issue as possible. Be sure to use your senses and the intelligences discussed in the last post.
- Order how (and when) you unveil that information.
- Make each step close. Use dialogue, rhythm, and paragraphing to emphasize your point.
- Reveal your point of view with subtlety but finality.
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