I Had a Dream

I awoke this morning from a most wonderous dream: I was with a group of friends, sitting around a table talking about our various projects and ideas, encouraging each other on. Suddenly something dawned on me:

“Have you noticed he each one of us is responding to suggestions with ‘I could do that,’ or ‘maybe I could’? Nothing is going to happen as long as we say ‘maybe’ and ‘could.’ I’ve lived long enough to know no that nothing happens until I say, ‘I will do that.’ ”

I was as surprised at my words as anyone in the group, but I recognized them as absolute Inner Truth, a genuine epiphany. The dream ended before they had a chance to respond. I have a lot of dreams, but I seldom remember details. Now and then one speaks to me, and this one spoke to me. I took it as a message that I’m ready to turn “could” into “will” often in the coming year. Attitude is everything.

Beyond any personal meaning in this dream, it applies to readers who think about writing, whether anything from a single vignette story of a couple of pages to a voluminous saga covering the full extent of your years. Perhaps your family or friends keep telling you, “You should write all that stuff down!” Perhaps you’ve just been meaning to and going to get around to it. If you are still thinking about it, thinking, “Yes, I could do that ...” this is the time to turn your “could” into “will”. As the New Year rolls in and you think of New Year's Resolutions, make one about writing, and make it “I will!”

Aside from battles with your Inner Censor, the biggest obstacle to implementing that “I will!” decision is not knowing where to start. As I explain in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, it doesn’t matter where you start. Just pick up a pen and start writing about any memory at all, and things will fall in place.

For those who tremble at setting out on such an impetuous path and feel the need for more organization, I have three suggestions. One is to create a timeline of your life. I’ve written about this before in The Value of a Personal Timeline, and What Should I Write About?. What better time to start your timeline? If you never write story number one, that timeline will probe to be quite valuable.

The second suggestion is to do some free writing to make a list of story ideas. Take a piece of paper and set a time for fifteen minutes. Jot down every memory that comes to mind. Don’t dwell on them. Just write a few words to anchor it so you can bring it back quickly later, and move on. See how many you can capture before the timer bell rings. You’ll find more specific information about this topic in my post, Story Idea List.

The third is to turn to the list of Memory Triggers in Appendix 2 of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. (Or find a list somewhere else.)

Whatever you do, may this be the year that you put “will” in place of “could” and all your dreams of writing come true. All your other dreams too, for that matter.

Happy New Year!

Write now: start a timeline of your life, if you haven't already done so. Update it if you have.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Tips For Better Writing and Ducking Computer Crashes

This is the time of year for Top Ten lists. I found a swarm of these lists on the Tech Republic website. I visited there in search of help on a problem that has hosed the Vista operating system on my almost brand-new laptop. I think I shall make my own list of Top Ten Tips for Lifestory Writing, but until I get it written, I recommend that you take a look at Tech Republic’s list: Another 10+ tips to keep your writing sharp and professional.

You may wonder why I’m sending lifestory writers to a site with tips for professional writing. Those tips will improve any writing, with the possible exception of poetry. If a tip doesn’t make sense to you, post a comment here, or ignore it.

For right now, if I can give you one gold-plated tip, it is to back up your work! I had one file on that trashed laptop that I cared about and had not saved elsewhere. I’d worked about six hours on that file and would hate to lose it. I feel sick when I hear of people who lose a whole hard drive full of files that weren’t backed up. The good news here is that after spending a solid day hammering on that system, searching for answers, talking to tech support two places, consulting with my personal ‘Puter Guru, and thinking way out of the box, I finally managed to bully the machine into letting Ubuntu (a version of Linux running from a CD) rescue my files.

A related silver-plated tip would be to avoid purchasing a computer with Vista installed. Most businesses are avoiding it like the plague. I finally found an article on the Microsoft website explaining that the particular file I’m having trouble with is often corrupted by a specific Windows Update. I’m very angry about this system that has probably wasted over a billion hours of user time in the few short months it’s been out.

How can you avoid Vista?

• Order a custom-built machine from a small shop. It may cost more, but it will work better, have the operating system you chose (i.e. XP), and you should get stellar tech support. Do check references on shops before buying though. I found my ‘Puter Guru by asking strangers in CompUSA if they knew of anyone. They did, and they'd forgotten, and we all left without making a purchase. I've now purchased nearly a dozen machines from Jack, for myself and others. (No, I do not get a frequent buyer discount, but I do get unlimited advice.)
  

• Convert your old computer to Linux. Linux runs beautifully on far less memory and power. Unless you use high end commercial programs like Adobe^® Photoshop^® , you don’t need Windows. Dell^™, Lenovo_™ and a couple of other vendors are beginning to offer computers with a choice of XP or Linux operating systems. Walmart’s first batch of $200 Linux-based machines sold out in 48 hours (I am not endorsing these machines, merely mentioning them). You can download Ubuntu, the most commonly used free Linux OS from the Ubuntu site, or order a low-price disk from sites listed there. It includes my favorite OpenOffice suite and enough other free open-source utilities to let you do pretty much anything you do with Windows or Mac. It works much like Windows, and you should quickly feel at home there. Learn more about it from the Ubuntu site or on Lifehacker.com.

Whatever operating system you use (I know there are a few Mac users out there too) I remind you to back things up.

Write now: about your experience with computers. When did you start using one? How do you feel about them? How did you learn to use them? What great computer-related success or disasters have you had?

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

P.S. Did I mention how much I hate Vista?

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

What a memory rich season this is, perhaps because it’s so full of ritual and repetitive tasks. As I wrapped a few gifts this afternoon, I used some ancient ribbon that I swear could have come from my great-grandmother’s attic. She died when I was four. The ribbon has shiny satin threads — on one side. The other side is dull paper. It works well for puffed bows that are ever so much more elegant than the commercial ones that you simply peel and stick. As I fluffed half a dozen bows, I remembered sitting on my parents’ bed wrapping presents fifty years ago, and learning to make elegant bows. The packages had to be perfectly wrapped, with crisply folded creases, and neatly balanced ends, taped just so.

This year my hubby received his Christmas gift early — a record turntable that plugs directly into the line-in port on a computer. This is the first time in a dozen years that we’ve been able to listen to our old LP albums. We converted half a dozen decades-old Christmas albums to MP3 files. Even with a few hisses and pops, those old songs sound more like Christmas than the newer CD’s we’ve purchased.

We no longer set up a large tree, opting instead for a collection of permanently decorated table-top trees. But those wee trees pack just as much spirit as their full-size cousins, and pondering the glow of the mini-lights reminds me of The Perfect Christmas Tree.

Over the years, Christmas customs at our house have changed dramatically from intense observance to nearly ignoring it, to something more balanced, but the memories of early Christmases remain, and traditions stand firm. They are the touchstone. This is the time of year that brings people together. Whether in the mall, around the eggnog bowl, or in worship services, we meet, we greet, and we all wish for Peace On Earth. Ultimately, that's the Reason For the Season.

I wish you a Merry Christmas, and hope that you’ll find a few minutes in the post-Christmas lull to sit in the glow of the tree with pen and paper and capture some of your Christmas memories and stories. That’s a great lead-in to a strong story start for the New Year that’s only hours away.

Write now: some notes of Christmas memories that you can transform into stories in a few days. What do you remember about Santa Claus? How did you learn to wrap gifts? What was the most exciting gift you ever got? Ever gave? What was your menu for Christmas dinner? Did you enjoy the day? Why or why not? How has Christmas changed for you?

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Melting the Ice Around Your Truth

My words are stuck. They are not stuck in my fingers. They are not stuck in my mind. They are stuck in my heart, frozen in an iceberg of indecision and doubt. I sense my Truth is in there, but it remains veiled, refusing to reveal itself. How do I move forward?

Have you ever felt that sensation? Like you know there is something you really need to write, but you aren’t even sure what it is? You don’t even know where to begin?

One of the best ways is to begin is with free writing. Begin by writing the phrase "I can't write about ..." at the top of a piece of scrap paper. Then list as many things as you can think of that you can't write about. Don't worry. You are going to destroy this list as soon as you make it.

Then pick one topic and use it as a free writing topic. Sit down with several sheets of scrap paper and a smoothly writing pen — a gel one is excellent, because it hardly drags on the paper — and start writing. When you are tempted to quit writing, pull rank. Exert mind over fingers and persist. No matter what, keep the fingers moving, and don’t stop. The results are likely to sound something like

I can’t write about the day I gave Samuel’s ring back. I can’t write about the reasons. I can’t write about them because my fingers stop moving when I try. I can’t just say to my fingers WRITE they won’t listen they just sit there lifelessly with a life of their own saying NO this is not something to write about you really can’t write about this and I say write about it anway just go ahead and say the words if I talk about giving the ring back I’ll admit I can’t write it that I never loved him in the first place and felt so guilty about ...

This doesn’t need to make sense. This isn’t about eloquence or even coherence. It’s about unblocking, about thawing that ice in your heart and letting the words gush forth again. It's about healing your soul, finding more about who you really are and what your deepest Truth is. You may set a timer for as little as ten minutes, or you may find words begin to gush and you write for an hour or more.

When you are finished, you have a choice. You’ve managed to write. You can reread the words. You can keep them. You can highlight thoughts and passage you want to work with later. Or you can destroy them in the fireplace or shredder. The important thing is that you wrote about something you dreaded writing about.

How does that feel? Brave and empowered? Relieved? Or maybe a little scared about defying your Inner Censor?

Don’t be surprised if you feel blocked again when you next try writing about this topic. It may take more than half a dozen sessions of free writing to chip away the ice surrounding your Truth, and it may not look anything like you thought it did when you finally liberate it, but it’s worth persisting for the insight you gain.

This is not a topic that can be intellectually explained. You’ve got to try it to “get it.”

Write now: find some scrap paper and set a time for ten minutes. Write bravely about a secret you are terrified to tell anyone. It may be old, it may be new, but everybody has at least one. Start with “I can’t write about ... ” When you are finished, burn or shred what you wrote.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Unravelling the Mystery of You

After decades of keeping a secret so large he can hardly believe it himself, he needs to tell his story, to know who he really is.

— Jesse Kornbluth

These sentences appeared on Jesse Kornbluth’s electronic concierge service, Headbutler.com in a review of the book, The Mascot: Unraveling the Mystery of My Jewish Father's Nazi Boyhood, by Mark Kurzem. I urge you to click over to Headbutler.com and read the whole review for yourself, then pick up a copy of the book — or urge your library to do so.

Although this book bears the name of Mark Kurzen as author, it was written at the request of his father, Alex, who felt the need to unburden his soul by revealing the past, and he chose his son as the instrument of doing so.

I have not yet read the book, though I have ordered it. I don’t need to read it to recognize the truth in Kornbluth’s words about the motive behind it: Alex Kurzen needs to tell his story to know who he really is.

To me, that crystallizes the essence of lifestory writing: to learn more of who we are through the telling of our stories.

Many people will find it sufficient to tell their stories orally to become more self-aware, but those who take the time and make the effort to write those stories, and to keep writing them until they become organized, coherent, and complete, will gain the most insight of all. Their souls will be lit by the brilliance of Inner Truth. That insight becomes a powerfully moving force, capable of making a difference in your life and the lives of those who read your words.

Many people may read the preceding paragraph and think That’s fine and good if your past was as flamboyant as Abe Kurzen's, filled with fantatic experiences. What Truth could be found in the story of someone who spent forty years working rotating shifts on a production line? My life is no different from thousands of others. It would put anyone to sleep!

Production worker, grocery clerk, stay-at-home-mom, insurance sales representative, corporate CEO. It doesn’t matter what work you’ve done, how glamorous it’s been, or how highly regarded or compensated you were. Writing about your life, if only for yourself, can bring out the color and nuances. You can discover small sources of joy, and put regrets in perspective by reliving them in ink. Besides, work and lifestyles that seem deadly dull today will be fascinating to people fifty or a hundred years from now who won't be able to imagine life as we know it and wonder how we went about our days. If you don't tell them, who will?

I urge you to heed Jesse’s words. Slay your Inner Censor, then tell your story and learn more of who you are. You may be surprised at some of the things you discover.

Write now: on disposable paper, about your deepest secret. What is it? Why is it a secret? What would happen if people (specific people, or people in general) found out about it? When you are finished, if you have any concern about anyone finding and reading it, burn it or shred it. The simple act of writing will have empowered you and begun a process of self-discovery.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

There Are No Mistakes

Detail of Sandra German quilt, from Sandy's Quilt Complex

Do you ever start writing a story and find it just isn’t going well? Do you then wad it up in disgust and throw it in the trash? Or hit the delete button? There’s hardly a writer alive who wouldn’t admit to that response to frustration, but you may want to think twice before doing it again.

Not long ago I attended a program at the library presented by Sandy German, a local quilter of international renown. As she paraded out one dazzling quilt after another, each more stunning and provocative than the last, she explained how each quilt came about. I began to notice that she often commented, “I never plan my quilts. I just start working, and they grow into what they are supposed to be.” Or something like that.

I finally had to ask, “Do you ever start a project and find it just isn’t going well; that the whole thing was a mistake?”

She paused and smiled her great big Mother Earth smile before she answered, “There are no mistakes, only unfinished projects. I have stacks of boxes full of projects that are still waiting to find their final shapes.”

I understood exactly what she meant. I have several megabytes of story scraps that haven’t yet found their story shape. Now and then I pull one out and stitch it into a larger story. The rest are still waiting for their time. Unfinished writing projects take way less storage space than unfinished quilting projects, especially if they aren’t on paper.

Write now: pull out a story scrap and finish the story. Don’t worry about truth, or what really happened, or what form it should take. Just finish the story. Then, if you still don’t like it, put it back in the unfinished pile — or indulge in the dubious pleasure of ripping it to shreds. At least you finished it.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Writing On

More than ten years have flown by since I first set fingers to keyboard to write stories about my life. Those who follow this blog know how I started by writing about my preschool years. In the interim, in addition to a how-to-book, I’ve written more than 700 stories, personal essays, blog posts and articles, many of which are now published. I’ve always known that the time would come when I’d feel the urge to knit many of the scrapbook stories together into an integrated fabric — a Crazy Quilt of my life, so to speak. That time has come.

With The Albuquerque Years now finalized, I’m moving on to The Los Alamos Years. Writing this volume is quite different from my earlier experience. The Albuquerque Years was all freshly written. Nothing in that volume previously existed as free-standing stories. In contrast, I have already written several folders of vingette stories about my school years, and I have way more memories of that time that have yet to be written.

The Los Alamos Years is also different, because by the time I started school, I’d begun viewing my life through a lens of understanding, forming judgments and interpreting events to conform to my evolving view of life. My account of the very early years included only a couple of concluding paragraphs of retrospective interpretation, but documenting my understanding of events and my changing perspective is becoming a key element as I move forward.

To my delight, I’m finding that writing along, year-by-year, works quite well, and it’s easy to slip in an existing story where it fits. I may make minor adjustments to blend the independent story into the flow of the larger one. For example, when I pasted The Easter Bunny Discovered into my First Grade chapter, I changed it from present tense to past. It works well in present tense when it stands alone. Told in isolation, it’s a story, and stories are often more compelling when told or written in present tense. Ongoing life stories and memoirs obviously focus on the past and require the use of past tense.

You’d think that after all this practice, I’d know what I’m doing; that I could just sit down, let my fingers rip and have a completed draft in a month.

I’m as surprised as anyone to discover this is not happening. It’s easy enough to write isolated stories, but when I tie them together, other thoughts emerge. I see things in new ways. I discover relationships I was previously unaware of. I find new meanings in small things. I’m not yet at the point where I must make decisions about what to reveal and what to conceal. Those decisions will further complicate the process. Meanwhile, I’m exploring one-hundred-thirty-nine flavors of Writer’s Block and procrastination.

Please don’t let that confession alarm or deter you. Writer’s Block is another way of learning more about myself. I’m choosing to experience it as a challenge and learning opportunity, and savoring it. But I’m not letting it keep me from writing. I finish at least a paragraph every day. Otherwise, I might put this project away for five or ten years, and still be blocked when I pick it back up.

Writing about the past is a way of reliving it and healing it, and I’m reassured at the certainty that such wisdom and insight as I’ve acquired over the past fifty and some years will add value as I revisit those old scenes.

Write now: about your experience with and feelings about Writer's Block. Tell how you handle it. How have you overcome it? What is it keeping you from doing? Write it a letter and tell it off!

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Memory Triggers

In a post on June 11, 2006, I discussed the pros and cons of using autobiography kits. My personal distaste for the idea of filling in someone else’s blanks and facing the likelihood of leaving many pages empty because the questions are meaningless for your specific life has not abated.

However, I’ve always acknowledged the value of “memory triggers” and include over two hundred of them in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. As time goes by, I’m becoming more keenly aware of the value an organized set of questions can have for helping people organize their memories.

Just a few days ago I discovered GreatLifestories.com, an amazing website that offers a couple of valuable services. It provides a set of thoughtfully organized questions divided into twelve topical chapters to help you work sift through your memories and get the stories written. The questions are general enough to apply to anyone, so you won’t be boxed in with questions (for example, about military service) that may be irrelevant to you. You can write as much or as little as you like about each question without concern about making things fit in a prescribed space. You can skip questions or whole chapters, and add material that isn’t covered. You can also upload one picture per chapter.

You write your stories on the site, editing them and saving them there. When you are happy with your results, you can download the finished story, neatly laid out, in pdf format for printing in your choice of four page sizes. Two of these sizes are suitable for uploading to Lulu for printing as a book.

Working online has several advantages. You don’t have to worry about losing your work if your hard drive crashes and you hadn’t backed things up. You can work on your story on any computer that’s connected to the Internet. You choose on a section-by-section basis whether to keep your work entirely private or share stories with family and friends (people you tell where to find them). You can also share them with the public. It’s your choice.

You may be wondering, like I did, what the catch is. What are they trying to sell? I wondered. The amazing thing is, there is nothing for sale! Right now, this is a free service. Will it always remain so? Who knows? Right now it’s a great deal. Right now it’s still in its infancy, and you may find a few glitches. The pdf may not export perfectly — it may repeat your story several times, and not have proper paragraph breaks. But these things will surely be fixed. In any event, you can always copy the contents of your story pages and paste them into a word processing program to format as you wish. You can also write by hand, or off-line, and paste stories into the web editor page.

It’s worth looking around this site, if only to see the questions. You’ll find a few on the story writing pages, and many more are located on the Inspirational Quotes, Helpful Questions and Practical Tips link on the Get Started tab on the top of each page. You’ll also find hundreds of stories that others have chosen to share. They’ll give you lots more ideas for stories of your own and ways to write them.

Write now: a story based on a question from GreatLifestories.com.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Write Now — Tomorrow May Be Too Late

On September 15 I posted a message about Jeff Byers, who was in a coma following a head-on collision on September 7. On November 4, Jeff passed away, without regaining consciousness.

Yesterday I learned that a dear friend's daughter — a high school classmate of my daughter, and the mother of two small girls — has a rapidly growing brain tumor with a dire prognosis measured in months.

Life can change, even end, in an instant. At the risk of sounding morbid, I feel a strong urge to remind you that we don't always know how much time we have left to follow up on our intention to create a written legacy.

Write now: as if this is your last chance to tell future generations things you really want them to know and remember. Don't wait another month to form this new writing habit. And/or write about your experience with sudden or unexpected deaths; about comforting others or receiving comfort.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Buried Treasure

While I was digging through a drawer looking for something else, I found a treasure buried deep within: my first transistor radio, small enough to fit in a jacket pocket. The last time I specifically remember listening to it was the night of the Great Northeast Blackout, on November 9, 1965. I used this radio for updates on the chaos in Boston, where we were living at the time.

I received the radio as a birthday gift five years earlier. Transistor radios were quite the hot item back then, much like iPods are today. I was dying to own one, and I was simply blown away when I found this dream gift by my plate at breakfast on my birthday, together with a charger and rechargeable 9-volt battery. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that my father told me what a strain this gift had placed on the family budget. “... but I knew you had your heart set on one, and I wanted you to have it.” I fondled the small blessing and thought back in time.

Compared to now, teenagers fifty years ago had relatively few possessions, and transistor radios were the first form of portable electronic gear. I took it to school a time or two to show off, but since they were banned during classes, it seldom left the house. It did return during the World Series that fall. Being a girl was a great advantage. I could hide the cord and tiny ear piece under my sweater and long hair, and listen to the game during class. What a thrill to be able to announce the score during breaks!

As the memories faded, I opened the radio to plug in a battery for old times' sake. What a disappointment. The tiny transistors, diodes, and other components have become fuzzy with corrosion. I gently snapped the back cover in place, and returned it to its leather case. The carrying strap is broken now, and the small ear piece and its case missing in action. The label from the front of the radio disappeared ages ago. If memory serves, it was a Silvertone.

Even though it no longer works, I’ll keep the small radio in my Memory Box for at least two reasons. The first is its historical significance in the parade of portable, personal communication devices. But more significantly, of all the birthdays and Christmases I experienced growing up, this was the only time I recall getting exactly the gift I’d dreamed of.

You never know when you’ll encounter something that brings a story so vividly back to mind, but this time of year is full of memory triggers. Recipes, traditions, seasonal decorations, tree ornaments that carry generations of memories ... . Be sure to keep lots of index cards handy to capture this gifts from your muse until you have time to write.

Write now: about memorable gifts you have received, early electronic gadgets you recall, or how technology has changed your life.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

How Long Should a Story Be?

How long should a story be? As long as it needs to be.

I could end the blog right there. That pretty much says it all. But, you’d still be wondering what on earth that means? Is it okay for a story to be told in a single sentence? Should it fill one page? Two pages? Is twenty-nine too many?

Don’t agonize over length. Each story will dictate its own length as you write. Some may run on for many pages, and others may fit in a single paragraph, like this one:

My most embarrassing moment came the year after I graduated from college. I had studied German for two years, and thought I knew a few words. But one evening I attended bridge club, and the the hostess’s mother-in-law was visiting from Austria. She had helped Ossie prepare elegant pastries for dessert. I wanted to tell the woman how much I enjoyed the treats, but she didn’t speak a word of English. Calling upon my best German I said, "Das kuchen sind sehr gut." (The cakes are very good.) She looked at me, shook her head and said, "No speak English." I blushed and tried again, more slowly, with the same result. She looked so embarrassed, and I was horrified that she didn't even recognize that I was speaking her language! Believe me, that was the last time I ever tried speaking German!

This entire story is complete within the single paragraph. It tells who was involved (Ossie's mother-in-law and me), when (a year after graduation) and where it happened (Ossie's house), what happened (I gave up speaking German), and why (I feared further humiliation). It has a theme (embarrassment), a beginning (introduces the topic of embarrassment), a middle (describes an embarrassing moment), and an end (embarrassment put a stop to my further use of German).

Very short stories like this one are generally referred to as anecdotes or vignettes and incorporated into larger stories, but they can stand on their own. Write them and file them away. If you find further use for them later, that’s great. If you don’t, someday somebody will find that story and read it with a smile and gratitude.

Write now: about an embarrassing moment of your own, letting the story dictate its own length.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

No Right Way to Write

“I took a class in memoir writing a few years ago and the professor told us that if we were going to be successful, we had to get up at five a.m. every morning and write for two hours. Every day. I knew I'd never do that, so I didn't even start. Is that something you advocate?”

Someone in the audience asked this question during a book talk I gave recently. I swear I felt hair rising above my collar as I listened. I think she knew my answer before she finished asking.

“What did he mean by successful?” I asked, thinking he may have been assuming everyone in his class aspired to publication and professional status. Not so. By success, the professor simply meant finishing what they started. By this time my clenched fists were waving away at shoulder level and my face was contorted in outrage.

“NO WAY!” I shouted. “I absolutely do not advocate that! I don't say anyone has to do anything! Read my book, and you'll see that one of the first things I address is the importance of finding a writing schedule that works best for you.” That professor's advice may be relevant for professional writers who make a living by writing, but this woman was the perfect example of the result of issuing blanket directives to the world at large. It kept her words bottled tightly inside her heart.

Writing, especially writing lifestory or memoir, is one of the most personal things you'll ever do. You have to find an approach that works for you. If you have time and prefer to do a little bit every day, that's great. Write every day. Write for thirty minutes or three hours. That doesn't matter. What does matter is that you write, sometime, something. If life intervenes and you have to skip a day, or even a few weeks, don't beat yourself up. Just start again when you can.

The orderly routine approach works well for methodical people, and people with relatively short attention spans. The other extreme is binge writing. Some people may not write at all for days, or even months, then get an idea, sit down and write non-stop for hours. When I first began The Albuquerque Years, I spent every free moment at the computer for about three days until I felt finished with the project. Most people fall somewhere between these extremes.

Ask yourself questions like the following ones to determine your best approach for writing:

• How do you prefer to approach other long-term projects? Would you rather chip away at them a little at a time, or dive in and do it?

• What is your ongoing daily schedule like? Is it feasible to write for a set amount of time every day, or do you need to squeeze occasional writing sessions into an already hectic life?

• What is your purpose for writing? If you plan to have a complete autobiography chronicalling your whole life, and plan to have it done within two years, you may plan a work schedule rather different from that of someone who is writing primarily for self-discovery.

If you do decide to write every day, experiment to find the optimum time. Some people do their most creative work first thing in the morning. Others work best in the evening, or as a break at some other point in the day. Experiment to discover your personal rhythms and use them to best advantage.

If you opt for the spontaneous inspiration mode, you'll probably find that inspiration comes more often with some form of deadline. Writing groups work especially well for this purpose, but short of that, friends or family members can be commissioned to prod you now and then.

Whatever you do, please, please, don't be detered by someone else's directives about how you should approach writing. The only right way to write is your way. Some people may offer helpful tips and suggestions that may be quite beneficial, but nobody, including Yours Truly, can tell you how you should go about getting your words on paper.

Write now: about your purpose for writing and your thoughts on the best way to manage your writing. Does a set time each day work best for you? Are you more inclined to write at the whim of your muse? Are you satisfied with your current approach? What changes would you like to make?

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Color Me Obsessive, part 2

You’ve probably dumped the contents of your junk drawer or its equivalent out on a table and gone through the items. You know the joy of finding forgotten objects, the surprise at some of the debris you’ve accumulated, and the lost objects you retrieve. You know the satisfaction of putting the “keepers” back in nice tidy order.

After finishing the list of emotions that I wrote about last post, I feel somewhat as if I took my heart, turned it upside down over a sheet of paper, and shook out the contents for exploration. I was amazed at the quantity and variety of emotion words it holds. I sorted the initial tumble of words into alphabetical order to check for duplications and added others as Sarabelle sent them along. What I have right now is a basic array. Soon I’ll start sorting and clustering, and perhaps I’ll discover that there are only a dozen piles and that most of the words are other ways of saying similar things.

The resulting list will be a gold mine as a thesaurus for precise and varied terminology in stories, but as this project has unfolded, I’ve discovered unexpected additional benefits. I’ve become keenly aware of the wide range of feelings I experience, and the huge variety of nuances within clusters. As I derived the list, I envisioned all sorts of events and circumstances in my life, both positive, negative and neutral, and payed close attention to the feelings I experienced as I remembered. I’ve been through the gamut from terror to rapture, revulsion to attraction, apathy (omigosh — I do not have apathy on my list! It may never be totally complete) to engagement, and everything in between.

As I conclude the experience, I’m more aware than ever that I generally have a choice about how I view or feel about things. Having examined all these options, I’m determined to place optimism, kindness, compassion, gratitude and other “positive” emotions in the forefront for easy access. I won’t do away with the less savory ones, like envy or avoidance. I’m still human! But I can recognize them for what they are and perhaps temper them.

In the post that sparked this quest, Ybonesy mentioned Emotional Intelligence. Perhaps it’s time to read Daniel Goleman’s book by that name as a wrap-up.

The golden nugget I have discovered the last few days is that a five-minute writing exercise can turn into a potentially life-changing event. Exploration and review of one small area may ripple out into your whole life or way of thinking.

You may notice that I have not mentioned the the word count for my list. There is a reason for that. It isn’t about quantity. It’s about insight, and that’s very personal. I urge everyone reading this post to devote a least an hour to making your own list if you haven't already done so. Once you start the list, you may find additional words come spurting in over the next few days, so always have a scrap of paper and pencil available to capture the flashes, because these inspirations melt like snowflakes on a salty sidewalk.

If you are adventurous, I invite you to share your list. I’ll respond immediately with my list to anyone who e-mails a list to me at Ritergal @ gmail.com (without the spaces). On November 19, a week from this Monday, I’ll take whatever lists I have and compile them into a master document of several hundred terms. I’ll also share that with you. So, what are you waiting for? Grab those pencils and let the ideas fly!

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Color Me Obsessive

Ebullient. Effervescent. Inspired. Words fly around my mind like popcorn at its climax. It all started with a writing practice challenge from Ybonesy over at Red Ravine to set a time for five minutes and write, non-stop, listing every emotion we could think of. Five minutes: now that’s a challenge I can do. I can spare five minutes. I recently bought a tiny timer to keep on my desk, mostly to prevent the pizza from burning while Sarabelle has control of my brain, but also to time freewriting exercises. When the timer beeped, I had a list of 64. I was pumped, stoked, thrilled, energized. I was also hooked.

For two days now, clusters of words have sporadically popped afresh. Yesterday afternoon I dared to hope I’d top 100. Before supper I’d surpassed that goal. Then the fire flared again, and by the time I went to bed last night, the count was up to 185, and 200 seemed possible.

Some nights I would have lain awake, obsessed with the search. Last night I fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow, but Sarabelle's insistent whispers woke me early. “Brain dead ... stymied ... pumped ... now get up and add those if you value my help!”

Others may be able to jot messages from their muse on a notepad by their bed and go back to sleep. I’m not one of those people. Sarabelle is a relentless taskmaster. Relentless. Isolated. Exhilarated. The list flew right past the 200 mark. Bashful — now why didn’t I already have that one? Up — another case of overlooking the obvious, and the 225th entry.

Am I done? Will there be more? I think the pot will sit quietly for a while, but I do anticipate more after-pops. I can never predict what Sarabelle will come up with.

You may wonder why on earth anyone would need 225 words to describe emotions, especially when bashful, shy, and reticent all mean the same thing. (Reticent — entry #226!) The simple truth is, you don’t, unless you strive for colorful writing. Even then, you still don’t. I could surely have derived this list in way less time, and probably have twice the entries if I’d simply clicked the link to my favorite online thesaurus.

But I love a challenge, and this one has paid off in an unexpected way. As the list grows, I find that the act of compiling it strengthens my ownership and command of the words on the list and forces me to examine various emotions more deeply than I ever have. There may another bonus. In a comment, Ybonesy writes that in a workshop she attended, a UCLA professor mentioned that a rich emotional vocabulary is linked to a rich emotional life. Presumably focusing on the nuances of variation hones our awareness of our internal states.

Lest I stray off topic, for the purposes of writing, a rich vocabulary enables us to keep our writing fresh and lively, and to paint deliciously detailed descriptions.

Vibrant. Zestful. That’s 252 and counting. Did I mention compulsive? Obsessed?

Write now: make your own list of emotions. Take five minutes to get it started, then let the list grow like a sourdough starter, one bubble at a time, for two to four days, stirring occasionally to keep it lively. You can make it even more lively by following Ybonesy's suggestion to freewrite about specific words.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

The Season Is Upon Us

Sometime in the next couple of days I’ll have to venture out of my lair and into the commercial sphere. I know things will be changed. The Halloween decorations will be gone, replaced with red and green Christmas decor. It’s that time again!

This brings a couple of lifestory-related thoughts to mind. One is to urge you to write about holidays past. The focus right now is on Thanksgiving and Christmas.

You don’t have to write whole stories if you don’t have time, but as you think of them, jot some notes. Remember those index cards I keep harping on? Keep a few with you for this purpose. You might include a title line (which may change when the actual story is written, or not be used at all if you incorporate the memory in another story), and perhaps a few words or sentences to jump start the flow when you get back to it. Story idea lists are another option.

The other thought relates to gifts. A book of your stories would make a stunning holiday gift. If you haven’t started yet, it may be ambitious to envision one hundred polished pages printed by Lulu before December 25. If you already have a pile of stories, you may be able to weave something together by then, following the guidelines in Chapter 11 of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing.

Grandchildren may be among the most appreciative recipients, especially if the stories are about your happy memories that include them. They love to see lots of pictures, with themselves prominently featured.

If you need help inserting pictures in your stories, turn to page 264 in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing and follow the instructions. I do suggest you be generous in the sizing, especially if you are working with standard 8½ x 11 inch paper. It’s difficult to see details in tiny pictures, and they tend to look lost on the larger page. My experience with The Albuquerque Years proved beyond a doubt that it’s far better to avoid the temptation to resize the picture in Word or OpenOffice and use a photo editing program to resize it to the precise size you want in your document. None of the pictures I edited in the final document printed well, and I had to redo them, “the right way.”

There’s more to the gift angle than just your own stories. Nearly all of us have relatives who are so full of stories, everyone keeps urging them to “write those stories down.” They keep looking away and muttering. Wrap a copy of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing for them and place it under the tree. I know of several instances where this has worked to get the ink flowing. A typical comment:

Thanks for sending the copy of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. It was just what I needed to get a sense of how to get started and go about it. My wife and kids are thrilled that I finally got off the dime and urging me to stick with it. Thanks to you and Sharon for the nudge.

You better believe my little heart went pitty-pat when I read that unsolicited testimonal in an e-mail. Few things are as rewarding as confirmation that your writing hits the target.

Write now: about holiday memories through the years. Did you have an especially memorable Christmas? Get the gift of your dreams? Do any holidays stand out as flaming disasters? Write stories, jot ideas on index cards, or expand your story idea list. You needn't be limited to memory stories. Write about your reaction to the ever-advancing onset of Christmas. Remember when stores weren't decorated until after Thanksgiving? What about the super-sizing of gifts? Expound on your pet peeves and joys.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

An Apple With a Difference

Can you imagine letting a 25th anniversary slide by unnoticed? I almost did that yesterday, but something tickled a neuron before the clock struck twelve. This event I remembered was a milestone, marking the beginning of what has become a remarkable lifestyle change for our whole family.

To put things in perspective, travel back in time with me to the evening of October 31, 1982. Immediately after supper, my husband took our older son out trick-or-treating. They only went one place, and acquiring the treat required a credit card imprint before they returned home with the loot: a single apple. This wasn’t just any old apple, it was an Apple ][+ computer, with dual external floppy disk drives, and an extra 24 K of memory. That’s right. That machine ran with a whopping 48 kilobytes of memory!

The main purpose of the purchase was to allow our son to scratch his itch to learn programming languages — he’d already mastered machine language so he could create new games for his Atari. He quickly became fluent in three languages and never lacked for odd programming jobs to supply extra cash during his college years before he began a rewarding career in chip design.

Everyone in the family enjoyed the Apple in one way or another, but to me, it was a dream-come-true. I’d long lusted for one of those magic word processing machines, but never mentioned the fact, because no way could I justify spending the equivalent of a semester's college tuition on such an indulgence. When I saw the Apple, I knew my prayers had been answered. By noon the next day I had become an expert in using AppleWriter, and transcended for all time the limitations of my trusty old Smith Corona portable electric.

Today we’d howl with laughter at the sight of that primitive old 13" green-on-black CRT monitor that showed programming codes right along with the text, sprawling uniformly from one screen edge to the other. Acres of trees and miles of printer ribbon substituted for the as-yet-unimagined WYSIWYG display. Any function change, like bold, italic or margin adjustments, had to be entered as a “dot code,” similar to HTML coding, within the text itself. It was invisible in the printed document, but did affect line length, creating some wildly ragged right margins. But oh, the power, to be able to cut and paste, and edit documents without retyping. Sheer magic!

It’s been a long road from there to the ability to lay out press-ready books to the most exacting professional standards, mixing graphics and text, right on my own computer. My personal computer today has more power than a Super Computer did back then.

Then there is the Internet, connecting me with all of you, and the world at large. There is the change in my time use. Many things I used to enjoy have sat idle for months or more.

Yes, yesterday marked an anniversary of something truly momentous, and I can no more guess what additional changes computers are going to make in my life over the next twenty-five years than I could have predicted today’s scenario back in 1982.

A couple of years ago I began a chronicle of my experience with computers over this quarter century. Maybe it's time to pull it out and add a few more.

Write now: About your early experiences with computers. What was your first? Your favorite? What programs have you loved and hated? Did you ever have system failure? How did you learn? What are your feelings about computers, and how have they changed over the years? How has the availability of a computer affected your writing?

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Ghosts of Halloween Past

It seems like only yesterday I was trekking around the neighborhood with a paper bag. All the kids on our street in Albuquerque went around together. I can barely recognize myself in the photo above. I think I see my little sister there, but I have to guess at the others. I think three of these kids moved away soon after this.

How simple things were back then. A mask and maybe some odd pieces of clothing was costume enough, which is good, because that’s all my family could afford at the time while my father was going to the University of New Mexico on the GI Bill. But it wasn’t just a matter of economy. Costumes fifty some years ago were generally simpler and more imaginative.

So were the goodies. I remember orange and white candy corn, and orange “circus peanuts.” Maybe a few jaw breakers or sticks of chewing gum. In later years there were a few mini-Hershey bars, and some people gave out iced sugar cookies or cupcakes. Some spoil sport always handed out the “untreat” — an apple.

Until the year I was in sixth grade, I generally went out trick-or-treating with the other kids from the neighborhood. That year I decided I was too old to go. But ... as the doorbell rang nonstop, nostalgia grew strong. It was not enough to simply hand out goodies to others. I wanted to be out in that crisp night air, bag in hand, one more time! So, I created the perfect excuse. I quickly cut out and crayoned a mask for myself from a brown paper bag, and stuffed my 18-month-old brother into his red snow suit, turning him into Santa Claus with the addition of a taped-on wad of cotton for a beard. He was clueless, but hung onto the paper bag I gave him. I took him around to ten or fifteen houses, and introduced him to the fine art of snagging candy.

At Halloween I always remember a story my mother used to tell, with a large smile on her face, about how she and her friends went around tipping over outhouses. Today I realize how suspect that story was. I’ll bet she was in a group that did one outhouse, one time. It is true that she lived in tents near the road construction sites her father oversaw for months a time, but that was when she was very young, and during the summer. There were precious few outhouses to be found in town by the 1930s when she was the right age for such shenanigans. Still, the story is lots of fun to envision. I never did anything more horrible than smearing Ivory soap on a few windows.

Halloween has changed so much from then to now. Power Rangers and princesses have displaced simple masks and hobo getups. Infants are stuffed into strawberry suits. Yard and home decorations are nearly as elaborate as Christmas. Or so it is other places. Not at my house! I've become the Halloween Grinch, but that's okay, because for years no children have bothered to invest the time and effort to hike half a block up the street and climb our steep, hundred-foot- long driveway for a small candy bar.

Write now: about some of your favorite Halloween memories. Did you have elaborate costumes, or make-shift ones? Did you have parties at school? At home? What were your favorite treats? Do you have more recent stories about trick-or-treating with your children, or any unusual door-answering tales?

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Reading for Better Writing

My hubby is great at uncovering writing lessons for me. It never ceases to amaze me that a nuclear physicist who took the minimum requirement of lit courses is able to rattle off such stunningly insightful critiques of structure, conflicting detail, character development and other matters of interest to a writer. He freezes up at the thought of writing anything nontechnical himself, but he's a masterful reader, and I'm especially blessed to have the benefit of his skill.

Last spring I nearly wrecked my voice reading Haven Kimmel's memoir, A Girl Called Zippy, aloud in the car on a long road trip. This memoir, published in 1991, came at the early edge of the current spate women's memoirs, and due to some weaknesses, it may not make the publisher's cut today. Despite the flaws, it's a charming and delightful story, and we spent lots of time laughing at the humor found throughout.

I hadn't been sure Hubby would relate to the book, but he did enjoy it. He also rattled off some flaws before I'd even finished reading. Four stand out:

1. She didn't date-stamp her accounts, and she jumped around in time like a grasshopper on a sugar high. We often wondered whether she was six or twelve during a particular episode. Age was relevant to putting the story in context.

Writing lesson: Be sure to anchor each story in the five W's: who, where, when, why, and what.

2. She repeated material many times, without any indication that she intended to do so. Repetition is okay, but tends to bore readers and sound sloppy.

Writing lesson: When you assemble random stories into a collection, check for duplication of material. After the first time you mention an event, refer back to that first mention rather than retelling it in full. If you do retell it, recast it to shed a different light on things. Best of all, tighten up your content to avoid the need for repetition.

3. Her dialog was overdone. Many conversations sounded more like something you'd read in the New Yorker than a memoir about childhood. Perhaps she really was that precocious, but it sounded as authentic as a toddler wobbling around on oversize stilettos, wearing lame, lipstick and lots of bling. It was splendid creative writing, and had it issued from the lips of a more mature character, it would have been gold-standard.

Writing lesson: Keep your vocabulary age-appropriate when you use dialog. As I've mentioned several times in previous blogs about The Albuquerque Years, “grown-up” words or interpretive sections jangled loudly. My sense of things told me I had to keep it consistent with my age at the time; to keep the words true to the music.

4. She honed in on certain details with laser-like precision. Who can say? Perhaps her memory is that sharp. But for most of us, the mists of time tend to blur the edges of physical surroundings, and specific wording of remembered conversations. Sharpening them too much is like over-sharpening a picture with photo-editing software. The picture no longer looks real, and the story begins to sound contrived.

Writing lesson: Detail is good, but reaching too far, filling in too many blanks with guesses, or relying on input from too many others, weakens your credibility. Write from your own memory. Let intuition fill in a few blanks, but don't grasp for straws. Leave it out, or honestly admit that you don't remember.

In spite of these criticisms, the book is a delight to read, and I consider reading it time well spent — especially since my resident literary critic was along to point out the lessons.

Perhaps there is a further lesson in all of this — the importance of finding support people who are skillful readers. I feel especially fortunate to have one under my own roof. You may have to look a bit further. I'd suggest attending a few sessions of a reading group at your local library. Pay close attention to those who seem to be the most articulate in analyzing the books. If you can get one or two of those people to give you honest feedback on your own writing, you'll be getting some of the best coaching available, and they will probably be flattered to have you ask them, and glad to help.

Write now: about an early childhood memory. Use some dialog in your story and describe the surroundings. Before you begin writing, sit back with your eyes closed and try to remember what things looked like when you were that age. What did they sound like? How did you think about things. Try to become that age again. Then, open your eyes, and start writing. Most likely, your muse will be whispering in your ear, and words will flow right out onto paper like magic, in just the right words and level of description. It's okay to edit, but resist the temptation to "pimp it up."

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

The Story That Herm Wrote

I’ve spent most of the past week listening to audio books as I lay in bed with pneumonia. I’ll spare you the details of the illness, other than to tell you that I couldn’t concentrate well enough even to read. I’m starting to feel human again, but not quite ready to write a full-length blog. Instead, I will share a story I received from a good friend in an e-mail recently.

I met Herchell “Herm” Newman through the Lifestory YahooGroup, (now the Life-Story-Writing Group) about five years ago. Finding one of Herm’s stories in my inbox has always brightened my day. Three years ago I was thrilled to hear that one of his stories had been chosen for inclusion in Chicken Soup for the African American Soul. Now, that’s quite a distinction!

Herm’s stories revolve around his family, his faith, and sometimes his career as a fire fighter — an occupation he retired from a few years ago. They are tender to the bone, with just the right balance of meat and sweetness, well-seasoned with humor. They warm both heart and soul.

I especially liked this story he recently posted to the YahooGroup, and asked his permission to share it in the blog:

Sunday’s choral experience was massive joy. From the time the curtain opened, the first musical chords were struck and the first words sung...the heart of the congregation moved toward us like a tide of smiling faces. Soon they were on their feet clapping their hands and singing along.

Director Adams had me seated in the middle of the front row. Before the curtain opened he said to me, “Herchel, after you sing two verses, pass the mic back to your father and he'll sing a couple.” I replied, “I'm gonna have a mic!?” Everybody laughed. He said, “Perhaps I should have just passed it to you at the appropriate time. Seems I’m putting too much pressure on you.”

Thomas (aka Tommy) Adams, has been a man of music for about thirty-five years in and around Columbus,Ohio. This day was to be his last because he is relocating to LA. I wanted to honor God by honoring his musical servant. This meant putting my lack of confidence aside and giving from my heart in unison with the congregation.

Tommy, has a great sense of humor. It endears him to people. When it was time to sing “All That I Own", Jesus gave it to me, He built up the introduction. “...and leading this song will be Brother Herchel Newman!” He handed me the mic without meeting my eye. Singing was as joyful and easy as singing in the kitchen waiting for the apple pie to come out of the oven.

I saw Tommy glance my way so I passed the mic back to Dad. His voice is as strong as ever and those who know him get excited when he stands before them to sing. First timers are always amazed. I looked to see the faces of first timers in the audience. When we finished the chorus I was nudged on the shoulder. Dad, had passed the mic back to me. I gave myself to the song and then some after the music stopped. At that point we were a choir and church on one a-chord . He later said, “You were really feeling the song. It was yours to sing.”

The song ended with an Amen. The musicians added the final notes. The curtain closed. Tommy Adams, is moving on. God, is always creating. The curtain will open again.

This isn’t a fancy story, but it is a powerful one. It comes straight from the center of his heart and truth. I share it for a reason beyond its simple elegance. Many people hesitate to write about their own triumphs; their Inner Censor screams loudly that humility is a virtue and these stories amount to bragging. Triumphs are important parts of our lives. They are our moments of intense joy, and no portrait of our inner self is complete without them. They empower future generations to face their own demons and excel in their own ways.

Herm’s story is a virtual template of how to do this, in a tasteful, humble way. He shares his angst, clues us in on the method he used to rise above it. Along the way, he pays tribute to others, and finally takes us with him as he soars. Although I did not verify this, his purpose seems more to pay tribute to Tommy, his father, and the power of love and faith than to glorify himself.

Write now: about a triumph of your own; a time you overcame your fears.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

The Project That's Finally Done

TA-DAH! The Albuquerque Years is finished!

This is the last in a series of posts about my experience with Lulu.com as I published The Albuquerque Years, a memoir of my life as a preschooler. The saga began with The Project That Just Won't Quit on August 30, and continued with Part 2 on September 2. In my Lulu Project Update on September 22, I reported on the result of my initial order.

Today, I posted the link to the book's own Lulu page. It will remain in the left column, just under the link to The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. I have chosen to list The Albuquerque Years with no price mark-up, so anyone who wishes to order a copy as an example of Lulu's product quality can do so at nothing more than the cost of printing and postage. Anyone curious to see an example of a project brought to completion by the process I outline in The Heart and Craft, can do likewise. I include a short afterward with an overview of the Lulu Experience.

Finishing this project has been a thrill on at least two levels. It's always rewarding to see something through to completion, but when it's the story of your own life, it's especially rewarding. I have a much stronger sense of the depth of my life's roots, and where the story began.

Beyond that, having found my way through the Lulu labyrinth, which you know from earlier posts wasn't all smooth, I'm in a much better position to give reliable advice to any who ask. And I hope you will. Here's a summary of what I learned:

• Use styles to keep your headers and other content consistent. (See Appendix 3 in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing for detailed instructions on using styles in whatever word processing program you use.)


• Once you decide on a page size for your finished book, set the page size in your word processing program to those measurements, and adjust margins. (See Appendix 3 as above.)
  


• Use a photo editing program to resize any photos or other graphics you use to the exact size you need in your manuscript. Save them in jpg format (not tiff) at 300 dpi in RGB color mode, not grayscale. Use the grayscale mode even for black and white pictures. It's also advisable to convert your color pictures to grayscale and adjust accordingly before you switch them back to color mode. They will look like grayscale and be printed in grayscale on the Lulu presses, but experience showed me that the pictures set in color mode printed better than the grayscale one. Ditto with jpg/tiff.


• Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to resize a graphic inside your word processing program. I guarantee you will not be happy with the results.


• Unless you are a real whiz with PDF programs, upload your finished manuscript to Lulu for conversion to PDF. This will assure that the process goes smoothly. Download the finished PDF and preview it carefully to make sure there were no formatting glitches in the process.
  


• Unless you are a real whiz with a graphics program and PDF conversion, use Lulu's cover templates.
  

If anyone gets snarled up in this process, please contact me with questions. I learn from your challenges right along with you! Likewise, I'd love to hear of your successes!

Finally, for a short time I'm making the ebook version available at no cost to those who request it. Just click that link above and send me an e-mail.

I hope legions of lifestory writers will soon join the ranks of proudly published authors. (No, this is not a paid testimonial for Lulu! Right now they are the only reliable operation I know of with no setup fee.)

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

Photographic Memory Jolts

There’s nothing quite like a trip through a pile or album of old photos for bringing back memories. I recently ran across this shot of my own family, taken when I was about twelve. Oh, my, do the stories flood back! Here’s a list, in totally random order, of some (excluding the obvious stories describing individuals:

• The record player — a gift to my sister and me from Santa Claus when I was in first grade. That memory leads to Victor Borge’s recording, It’s In the Book, and the day my little sister repeated some words she had misunderstood from that story. Rather than “Of all the stupid audacity ...” she said, “Of all the stupid odd assy ...” Needless to say, that didn’t sit well with Mother. Which leads to stories of other things that didn’t sit well with Mother. And then there were the children’s records with stories and songs that we nearly wore clear through with repeated playing. Some of those records were plastic coated cardboard, others were Little Golden Records. The record player Christmas was in Cushing, OK, which is quite a story in and of itself ...
  

• The gray sectional couch with the black limed oak corner table — which sparks stories of furniture and room décor through the years.
  

• Tray on the mantle — Mother painted that tray, which reminds me of stories about her extensive skill in various craft mediums, and those stories could fill volumes.

• Hardwood floor — typical of all government housing in Los Alamos, which included all the housing in Los Alamos, which is another story.

• Mother’s jump suit — quite the fashion right then, and one of the very few clothing items she had in those years that she didn’t sew herself. Those who have read my books and follow this blog are aware that Mother and sewing are a hot topic in my writing.

• Saddle oxfords — worn by my sister, and nearly every girl in America at that time. Which leads to stories of polishing shoes in general, and the special challenges of polishing saddle oxfords and the pair of Ivy League saddle oxfords I had that sported tiny buckles in the back. And that reminds me of the orange shoes I had in sixth grade that looked like pumpkins and didn't quite match each other and ...
  

• My hair — I had just read an article in American Girl Magazine on how Natalie Wood used a hairnet to set her hair around cotton wads and Scotch Taped her bangs in shape as they dried. Which brings stories to mind about wanting to look like a movie star, and my adventures reading that magazine, and the modeling classes Mother arranged for my sister and me to take, and winning the scrapbook contest, and ...

• Glasses — I hated wearing glasses! And there are so many stories about them ...

• My bare feet — my preferred footwear in the house and outside in the summer. I often went barefoot in the snow to keep my good shoes dry, like the time ...

• Family dynamics — The way this picture (taken by my paternal grandfather who was a professional photographer) is posed, facial expressions, eye direction — all these cues and more tell volumes about the way our family related to each other.

• Fireplace — reminds me of trips to the mountains to cut wood and picnics, how pitchy pine burned, the fragrance of piñon pine smoke, learning to build a fire, Girl Scouts, and more ...

I could write for a whole week without running out of ideas, just from this one picture. As you can see, each item leads to other memory clusters, so I might keep going for a month or more. I strongly encourage anyone who suffers writer’s block to haul out some photos. You should experience relief within minutes!

Write now: about a picture from your past. Include the picture with your story, and explain details in it. Tell when it was taken, explain the occasion, and elaborate on details in the picture.

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

More Than Just a Table

It already had a lot of history before it came into our family. I found the old table in the stairwell near the garbage chute in our first apartment in Boston. People put large things there for the janitor to dispose of, and anything you found was fair game. I thought carefully before adopting the table. I knew it would be a life-long relationship.

Forty-some years later, this appears to be the case. It still sits in my kitchen. It’s evolved considerably in the interim. For the first couple of years, a blotchy, peeling coat of colored varnish deepened the shade of the cherry wood. In the late sixties I painted it a lovely turquoise, accented with then fashionable antiquing, perfect for the spindled, early American legs. In the seventies, it acquired a coat of lime green paint to coordinate with the next house.

Eventually it was too small for our growing family and moved to the basement, where it served a variety of passive purposes. When we moved to Pittsburgh, it obligingly returned to active duty in the kitchen, while its successor occupied the dining room.

The lime green paint was jolting in the new location, so I stripped the table bare. It remained naked for more than a dozen years before I gave it a chic, sheer paprika-red glaze and a couple of coats of varathane, leaving the legs natural.

The story of the table’s surface doesn’t begin to tell what it’s meant to our family. It has been with us through infants, toddlers, teens and grandchildren. It has participated in celebrations, turmoil, tedium, and joy. It has hosted friends, held homework, collected piles of dirty dishes, served as a bread kneading surface ... .

As I consider this table, I think of all the stories it has witnessed, the stories it could tell. It's more than just a table — we have no secrets from it. An idea strikes me: I could write a collection of stories about our family with this table as the organizing thread. Will I write this series? I can’t tell you today, but it is a doable and exciting idea. The concept resembles memoirs people like Ruth Reichl write that use adventures with food as the organizing principle.

This idea is worth remembering. I just wrote it on a card and stuck it in my file box. I recently expanded my card filing system to include a section for theme ideas. Others include cars I have known and loved, special people in my life, vacation stories and many others.

Write now: about a treasured piece of furniture in your life. Be very specific in your description of the item, using all your senses. How did it smell? What was the texture as you ran your fingers over the surface? What sounds did you hear as you used it? Was this item comforting? Does it remind you of anything special? What memories are connected with it?

Write on,

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal