The Things I Never Said

Finding this card tucked away in a box felt like receiving a love letter from “the other side.” I’ve kept it in the box for so long without reading the message that I’d forgotten its origin, and even the fact it was used. A couple of days ago I opened it, thinking maybe I’d send to someone, and discovered anew that it is a birthday card from my long-gone mother, sent in 1985. It is full of questions about how things were going for me on various projects I’d long since forgotten, and the reminder of her level of interest in my life was touching. Since we lived in the same town during the years I was raising children, I never had letters from her as evidence of this.

But the most amazing thing was the message on the cover. “The things I never said...” I was flabbergasted that I’d never noticed or “got” that message before, that she was aware there were some “things she never said” and maybe this was her way of saying them. I did not grow up in a family that openly expressed caring, concern, and support. I don’t recall ever hearing the words, “I love you” from my parents. I don’t feel deprived for that — I knew I was loved and cared for. We just didn’t talk about it. So, now I find this message about those words that were never said ... I think they are still waiting somewhere, and I think I just realized what they are. Perhaps that card finally said the things for her.

Perhaps the card is most poignant because of its ambiguity. I have no way of knowing what was on her mind when she selected it. Shucks, if I found the card on the rack at the store today, I may think of all the stories I have not yet gotten around to writing, and that if I wrote non-stop for the rest of my life, I’d never be able to cover even half of what I’ve already experienced and thought. Or that conversations always branch and there are always “roads not taken.”

That’s pretty much how I understood it at the time. Just as I always have at least half a dozen writing projects underway, she always had stacks and piles of paintings, glass, sewing and other arts and crafts projects underway, so she could also have meant it that way.

But she sent that card a generation ago when she was about the age I am now. Perhaps she was a generation ahead of me in understanding and understood it then as I do now. Perhaps I have caught up?

The card will remain an enigma, but I’m going to hang onto my fresh view of it, because it is so satisfying and enriching.

Meanwhile, it can also serve as a reminder that because readers bring their own experience and needs to the page, even the most carefully crafted story will be understood differently by each one, and perhaps understood quite differently from what we had in mind as we wrote. And that story may be understood one way today and quite differently a generation from now. Our job is to write the words, the stories, the “things,” then release them to serve whatever purpose they will.

Who knows? Perhaps a card, letter or story you’ve already written is tucked away somewhere, waiting for a time many years hence when it will be rediscovered and mean way more than it did at the time. Maybe more than you realized you meant at the time.

Write now: about some of the things you never said that are waiting somewhere. Pu them in a letter and mail them, or write them in a journal. Or write them down and shred or burn them. But write them down.

It Really Is All About You

It’s easy to forget that a lifestory or memoir really is all about you. “I didn’t want to say too much about that, because I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging,” is a common response to the urging to the question “Why didn’t you say more about that?”

Most of us learned early that bragging was to be avoided, and those who were fortunate enough to achieve unusual success in life or receive rich blessings often hesitate to elaborate on them in lifestories. The inverse is just as true: nobody wants to sound like a whiner! And yet, to give nothing but fleeting mention of triumph or tragedy is a form of insincerity and leaves readers wondering what the real story was.

It boils down to a matter of telling rather than showing. The problem arises when you are “reporting” on your life, focusing on facts to the general exclusion of feelings and insights. The solution is to put more of yourself in the story. Tell your readers what you thought and felt at the time. What did this event mean to you? Why was it important? How did it affect your life?

I’m reminded of an occasion my senior year in college when a friend I’d met in a small, intimate psychology class received notice that she had not only been admitted to Columbia for grad school, but had received a full fellowship. I happened to call her within minutes after she received the letter, and she couldn’t contain her joy. I was genuinely thrilled for her, but when she missed the next class meeting, I decided to keep silent, to allow her the added joy of seeing their faces light up with delight as they heard.

When she did see the class and realized they didn’t know, she turned to me. “Didn’t you tell them?” she asked. “No. I wanted to let you tell them yourself,” I replied. She looked crestfallen and her report had an edge of disappointment.

This is a great example of how things not said may loom larger than what is, resulting in misunderstanding. I personally valued the joy of sharing my own good news and in that close-knit group didn’t think of it as bragging. How would I know that she didn’t see it the same way? I also sensed that she thought my reticence was due to jealousy on my part — further proof of the danger of bragging. In fact, nothing could have been further from the truth. Sure, we would all have liked to have been in her shoes, but that didn’t diminish the joy I felt for her.

Circling back to writing, the same potential for confusion exists for unwritten details. If you just report that you won the Pulitzer Prize and move on to something else in the next sentence, I’m going to feel shortchanged, and maybe a little angry when I read that. I may feel like you didn’t trust me, the reader, to understand.

If you elaborate with something like, “When I hung up the phone, I could hardly breathe. I sat there with tears streaming down my face as I realized that all those weeks, months, and years of pounding away on my Underwood had finally paid off. The ultimate critics had bestowed the ultimate honor. As contradictory as it sounds, I was overwhelmed by a mixture of humility and tumultuous joy. I simultaneously sank with grief that my mother had not lived long enough to share this joy and felt my spirit rise like a hot air balloon, soaring through the sunny sky. I wanted to run and shout, stop strangers on the street. I wanted to crash down the solid walnut door and storm unannounced into the Publisher's office. Instead, I took a deep breath and strolled into the press room with wicked anticipation and glee.”

Just remember, whether triumph or tragedy, if readers think it is a big deal, they are not going to believe you if you say it wasn’t. Let us know how it was a big deal to you, or if it really wasn’t tell why not.

You don’t likely have anything as dramatic as a Pulitzer to report, but small things that brought elation or devastation matter too. Don’t hesitate to “brag.” Just be sure to package it in context and let us feel your response. Remember, this is your story, and it really is all about you!

Write now: a few paragraphs about a great victory or joy and/or devastating event. Recreate the whole scene as you heard, and and describe what you thought and felt and how you reacted.

Inner Critic — Guide, Guard, or Enabler?

You will never, ever, in a million years be that creative and write that well!

With nuclear force, Gretchen (my Inner Critic) burst onto the scene shouting these words and a stream of related ones as I began reading Three Bites, a 675 word life story by Leslie F. Miller, found on the most excellent Brevity28 website. Leslie’s imaginative description totally blew me away and seemingly raised the bar out of reach. I knew what was happening; still, I was stunned by Gretchen’s outburst. What was this all about?

Two days later, still reeling from that attack's aftershocks, I journaled about it, using the technique I’ve evolved of posing questions — to myself or whatever source of inspiration may be floating around — and then just writing without further thought. I’ve found many powerful answers that way.

The answer that morning seemed ambiguous. It didn't address Gretchen's outburst at all. Within a sentence or two, my words turned to the day my hubby and I set out to climb Cathedral Rock near Sedona. We both wanted the heady experience of scaling the sheer slopes. He wanted to take pictures. I was curious about the vortex energy Native Americans and mystics associate with the site. I wanted to experience it myself — or not.

The first half of the trail wound gradually up and around the base. Then we had to scramble up a fairly steep rocky area. Did I really want to do this? Was it worth it? “Come on. This is nothing. Keep moving!” Hubby urged. I kept going. Sure enough, in minutes we were on the next level and moving along a fairly level path.

Finally we came to the last ascent, and it seemed to go straight up to heaven, figuratively if not literally. Well, maybe only maybe a couple of hundred feet, but still ... In truth, my fear was not about climbing up. I knew I could make it up with no problem. Getting down again was another matter. Heights make me queasy, and I’m more aware of them going down.

“I don’t think it’s worth it. I don’t need to go clear to the top. This is good enough,” I whined. “You go on up if you want, I’ll poke around down here.”

“You’ll always regret it and hate yourself if you quit. Come on.” His voice was gentle, encouraging, and I knew he was right. I would hate myself later if I wimped out. Up I went.

The view from the top was spectacular, and he got some great photos. I sat for about half an hour gazing out, and I wish I could say I was transported somehow, but if the energy is there, my receiver was not tuned into that frequency. All too soon we headed down again, hoping to also make it up Bell Rock several miles away. The slopes I’d feared descending turned out to be no big deal, and the exhilaration I felt from having overcome my reluctance surely equaled anything The Force could have offered.

Recalling this adventure reminded me that Gretchen could be doing any of several things. She could be posting trail markers to help my stay on the path that makes the best use of my talents. She could be guarding me from danger. Or, she could be giving me the excuse I need to wimp out and avoid the challenge and exhilaration of scaling new heights of achievement.

In the final analysis, I decided that this time Gretchen was functioning as an enabler for my Inner Wimp. Guides and Guards give reasons.
Enablers use fear and intimidation. I won’t be deterred by stories that seem to eclipse my humble efforts. I shall continue to approach reading as a source of inspiration and use it as a springboard for expanding my vision rather than lapsing into meaningless comparisons. And I’ll keep writing, revising, and writing some more, honing my skills with practice.

Regardless of the whines of my Inner Wimp, I’ll take the next steps, writing and revising, slowly scaling my way to that peak, strengthening my writing muscles in the process. Climbing that rock is a robust metaphor for writing. I’d hate myself if I quit trying to improve. My work will never sound like Leslie Miller's because I’m not Leslie Miller. But I can do a fine job of telling my stories my way, and what more could anyone hope for?

Afterward: Perhaps the joke was on me. I recently learned that the Cathedral Rock vortex is not at the top of the rock as I thought, but down at the bottom, across Oak Creek, nearly a mile away. We actually did hike there another day, passing the site without realizing it. But I’m still glad I climbed the rock, and now I know that the most powerful results may not come from the most strenuous effort.

Write now: have a freewriting conversation in your journal or on scrap paper with your Inner Critic about (her?) motivations. Explore previous times, perhaps unrelated to writing, when you have overcome your fears and consider how that relates to your writing. Did you have coach or cheerleader urging you on? Where can you find that sort of support for your writing?

I Had a Dream

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Refuse to Accept Limits!

“WOO HOO! I DID IT!” Even though I was home alone when the last piece of my "impossible" puzzle clicked into place, I sprang from my chair and dashed wildly around the circuit of kitchen, dining room and living room a couple of times in a wild victory lap, waving my hands and yelling. Although I wasn’t sure my aging spine would take it well, I jumped for joy. Oh, sweet, sweet success. YES! YES!

My success was discovering a way to create flawless PDF (Adobe reader format) files for digital scrapbooks made from software you already have or can get for free. There are some pricey programs out there to help you lay out scrapbooks onscreen, but as far as I’m aware, they are all geared toward selling print services that will convert any cash in your estate into a legacy of glossy pages encased in premium bindings. I’m talking about eBooks that can be viewed on a computer and require an investment of nothing more than your time and maybe a blank disk.

The puzzle sprang from a discovery that any object with slight transparency acquired a nasty set of grid lines when converted to PDF format. By a convenient quirk of fate, I made this discovery as a cold and sore throat set in. Not feeling up to doing much else, I camped in my recliner with my laptop and delved into the matter.

For over two days, I Googled, I downloaded and test drove fifteen free or low-cost PDF writer programs. I put together a comparison chart to keep track of the results. Ultimately I discovered that not even the gold standard Adobe Acrobat was up to this challenge. I despaired. I almost gave up. But I was cornered. I’ve committed to demonstrating this magic at the Digital Imagers meeting on January 4, and cringed at the thought of having to back off in any respect.

I REFUSE TO ACCEPT LIMITS!

There had to be a way, and I determined to find it! I joined a couple of user forums to ask for advice. While I waited, I decided to try the built-in PDF function in OpenOffice. I’d been using Word, because most people use Word, and I wanted to share the results of my discoveries. Well! OO does a stellar job. The problem lies not in the PDF programs, it lies in Microsoft’s software structure.

But my search was not over. OpenOffice was not perfect. On pages where I had a stack of objects (think of glass over a mat over a picture that’s mounted on floral background paper inside the mat) the bottom layer did not show in the PDF version if it had a patterned fill. Solid colors were fine. That ribbon at the end of the course was so close, but still out of reach! At that point both PrimoPDF and BullzipPDF, the two freeware programs that otherwise passed my testing, worked perfectly. My problem was solved. I burst through that ribbon and into song.

But the good news doesn’t end there. Later in the day I downloaded and installed the brand new OpenOffice version 3.0. Oh, my, Santa came early. I’m dazzled. It’s so hard to believe that such a polished software package is just sitting there for the taking. It has so many splendid new features, it’s hard to tear myself away to do real writing. And ... icing on the cake ... the upgraded PDF writer now catches all the layers.

Lest this all sound like nothing but crowing, bragging and crowing are good for the soul, in the right time and place, and this crowing ultimately relates back to life writing. It’s more about the packaging than the writing, but it does all fit together.

Write now: a story about some huge personal accomplishment that set your inner world on fire. It only has to matter to you, not be something anyone "out there" would even notice. And help Santa out by giving yourself the gift of a stunning new Office Suite that anyone can afford.

The Best of Intentions . . .

Before the crack of dawn this morning I woke up, glowing with excitement about a essay idea that probably came from a dream. The vision was luminous and the concept was crystal clear. I knew that the minute I sat down at the keyboard, print-ready copy would pour forth in minutes. How could I risk drifting back to sleep and forgetting? Sarabelle is a ferocious taskmaster.

I slid from between my warm covers out into the cold, dark room, reaching for robe and slippers. I came down to my computer and ... I had fifteen e-mails. And ... I answered a couple. And ... here I sit, looking at a puddle of story that melted in the heat of the thought required to respond to those e-mails. Turning my mental energies to the thought required to craft those replies was blowing a strong wind across the surface of the previously mirror-still pond reflecting my idea.

Rats! I know better! How could I let this happen when I left my cozy bed for the specific purpose of recording it before it went poof?

Well, no point in beating myself up about it. I could pull out my journal and do some freewriting to see I can recapture the thought. But it's way more tempting to slip back between those warm covers and see if Sarabelle might be compassionate enough to give me a second chance. In any event, next time I have an epiphany (in the early morning or later in the day), I will not allow e-mail or anything else to distract me from recording it! I’ll at least get enough of it onto my story idea list to make sure I can recapture the moment.

Write now: start a story idea list if you don't already have one. That might be a piece of paper that you add to and check things off of. It might be a cigar or file box for collecting random scraps of paper, or a document on your computer. However you manage it, be sure you have one!

A Gift That Keeps On Giving

Now that Thanksgiving is out of the way, most of us will soon be swept up in a rush of holiday activity, whether that’s Christmas, Hannukah, or something else. It’s gift-giving time for nearly everyone, and many are looking for creative ways to trim costs this year without making it obvious. Here’s a thrifty idea for parents, grandparents, and other family members (or friends!) you’d like to encourage to get started on writing their lifestories — create a lifestory gift box. This is a gift that can reap dividends lasting for generations. You can keep it basic, or get as elaborate as you like.

Suggested contents for a basic box include:

• The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, by Sharon Lippincott
• One or more packs of blank index cards for capturing story ideas
• A new pen
• A pad of writing paper (not a fancy book — such things are intimidating to write in)
• A blank printed timeline (you could enter basic information to get them started)
• A neatly written or typed list of stories you hope they may start with
• A binder or file folders for holding finished stories. Decorate an insert for the cover and spine if you use a binder.

The following optional items are listed as suggestions, but none are essential. Let your budget, knowledge of the recipient’s tastes and preferences, and your imagination by your guide.

• Photos of memorable events to jog their memory
• Records, tapes, CDs, or mp3 files with favorite memory-jogging songs and music
• Hole punch (for adding printed pages to binder)
• A gift certificate for typing up hand-written stories (depending on need. You can offer your own services, draft a friend or relative or offer to pay for this)
• Mementos
• Chocolate
• Gourmet coffee, tea or other beverage of their choice
• Scented candle
• Lap desk

If this idea appeals to you, click over to Amazon right now and order the book. Order one for yourself while you’re at it if you haven’t already, and save on shipping.

While you wait for the book to arrive, choose a box that’s big enough to hold paper, pen, the book, and related items. The kind with the lid that has tuck-in flaps to hold it closed works especially well. Cover it with lovely, durable paper and include a note to let the recipient know it’s intended to be used for storing writing supplies and maybe using as a lap desk. Then click here to download a blank Heart and Craft Timeline and follow the instructions at the end to customize it before printing. (A version for filling out on the computer is also available there.)

This gift from your heart is sure to open theirs and result in lots of stories that will keep people reading for generations and keep them aware of family history and ancestors.

Write now: about your memories of holidays past and memorable gifts you’ve given and received.

Turkey Day

Turkey Day is nearly here. The radio is my head playing “Over the River and Through the Woods,” that old Thanksgiving classic I learned in second or third grade. I love that song, even though I never have seen that much snow as early as Thanksgiving. The other traditional Thanksgiving tune that stick in mind is the hymn, “Come Ye Thankful People, Come,” which I just discovered was written in 1844, the same year as “Over the River.”

Thinking back over my personal Thanksgiving history, I find a lot of variation. Childhood Thanksgivings in New Mexico varied. Some years we visited my mother’s family in Las Cruces, where most of my cousins lived. Those years enough food for a small army filled my aunt’s kitchen table, and tables for eating were set up in the living room for adults and an enclosed porch for the kids. Other years we went to visit my father’s parents in Clovis where things were a little quieter. Or we stayed home in Los Alamos, enjoying the meal with various combinations of friends and/or visiting relatives.

When Mother fixed the dinner, we always had turkey stuffed with my mother’s cornbread dressing. She left the seasoning of that dressing to my father, which baffled me at the time. Aside from making pancakes on weekends, seasoning the stuffing was his only contribution to cooking. We always had mashed potatoes with giblet gravy, candied sweet potatoes with toasty marshmallow topping, green beans (plain ones, not the soupy casserole version), 24-hour salad and fresh cranberry-orange relish. Dessert always included both pumpkin and mince pies, with lots of whipped cream.

During the years our children were growing up, Thanksgiving was always at our house, with my parents and brother joining us. In later years my brother's growing family was added. The menu remained stable, though the dressing was never quite the same without my father’s deft touch to season it. The last twenty-some years, the feast has changed. The distance between most family members has multiplied by a factor of ten. We alternate between staying home, often including assorted friends whose families are also far away, or going to visit my mother-in-law, who lives just east of Philadelphia.

Although this is not a tradition in our family, many families center the food preparation and meal around television with the Macy’s parade in the morning and football later in the day.

Isn’t it ironic how most of us primarily connect this holiday with turkey, travel, and television, followed by Black Friday shopping sprees? The holiday was instituted to remind us to be thankful for the many blessings we enjoy in this land of plenty. Even this year as the economy is melting like ice cream on hot pie, there is plenty to be thankful for, and I hope you’ll join me in recording some of those many blessings in stories. Encourage family members to share stories as you gather. Keep a recorder running, and/or make notes. In future years, your family will have a collection of stories to add to their Gratitude lists on Thanksgiving.

Among the many things I’m thankful for is the technology that allows me to create this blog, and for all my many readers. I wish each and every one of you the very best Thanksgiving ever, and another year of blessings.

Write now: a list of things you are thankful for, and then go on to write about your memories of Thanksgivings, past and present. Gather a collection of your family’s traditional recipes. Do you always stick to the same ones or vary the menu? What other traditions do you have? Do you recall unusual events or circumstances? How were people arranged for eating — all around one table, or a separate one for children? Keep those fingers moving and get it all down!

Sisterhood Is Powerful

Those who've seen us
know that not a thing could come between us.
Many men have tried to split us up, but no one can.
Lord help the mister who comes between me and my sister,
and Lord help the sister who comes between me and my man.

I remember hearing this song on the radio as a very young girl, and again in junior high, sung in a school talent show by two cheerleaders who were best friends, as close as sisters. These lyrics, excerpted from a song originally written by Irving Berlin, have been adapted and recorded by a long line of singers, and they express the ideal of sisterhood: women bonded by birth, presenting a united front against all odds — yet sometimes turning against each other.

Memoirs about the mother-daughter relationship would fill several shelves, but none that I’m aware of focus on the sisterly one. My thoughts have ranged in that direction the last few days, and I’m surprised that this niche seems to have been overlooked.

Thinking back through stories told by friends through the years about their sisters, I recall countless accounts of love and support, but I also recall tales of sisters left in the cold, sisters who sat in the shadow of a dominant sibling, women who bear a variety of emotional scars inflicted on purpose or otherwise by their sisters. This is the dark side of sisterhood.

The concept of sisterhood ranges beyond biological bounds. Convents have been full of “sisters” since the early years of Christianity. Sorority members are considered to be sisters. Especially in the 1960s and 70s, as the feminist movement gained momentum, sisterhood was a rallying theme. Sisterhood Is Powerful, the “bible” of the movement, was carried at all times by enlightened coeds on many campuses across the USA. Here again, stories of love and light predominate, but dark ones are not unknown as power is wielded for various forms of control. In addition to its inner dynamics, this sort of sisterhood uses circles of inclusion to exclude others, creating elaborate forms of tension and intrigue.

Lastly I thought of another form of sisterhood — soul sisters, best friends who may be closer than those born into the same family. These are the friends who are always there for us, who listen to our hopes and dreams as well as our fears and pains, with the tenderest of encouragement and care. They are balm for our souls. These friends are the richest sort of blessing one could hope for.

Sisterhood is powerful in so many ways, and a juicy topic for life writers of all sorts. Whatever the nature of your relationships with sisters of various sorts, they are sure to generate plenty of tales and insights, and writing your truth about some of the darker elements may bring unexpected closure and healing.

Write now: a story full of tension about the darker side of sisterhood as you have experienced it, a time when you were excluded, jeered at, bullied, betrayed, or otherwise tormented by a birth sister or members of a collective sisterhood. Follow this with a tribute to a beloved sister, whether bonded by birth or acquired later in life. Include details of what happened and how you felt. You may choose to share your tribute story with the person you write about. Make your own decision about sharing the darker one. Men, you can write about brothers, or anyone could expand this to siblings and friends in general

National Day of Listening: an Adventure in Multimedia

Have you ever wished you could watch movies of your ancestors and how they lived, or at least hear their voices? Although it's too late to capture your ancestors on video StoryCorp is doing something about that for future generations. They recognize the value of hearing voices from the past and are dedicated to preserving them. They are an independent nonprofit project whose mission is “to honor and celebrate one another’s lives through listening.” Jerry Waxler wrote an inspiring blog post on Memory Writers Network about his heartwarming experience with StoryCorp.

Realizing that a very small percentage of the world’s population will ever be able to visit a StoryCorp studio, they have begun urging people to use their own equipment to record interviews with family members and others they care about. This Thanksgiving, “StoryCorps asks you to start a new holiday tradition—set aside one hour on Friday, November 28th, to record a conversation with someone important to you. You can interview anyone you choose: an older relative, a friend, a teacher, or a familiar face from the neighborhood.” You can learn more about this and find detailed guidelines to help by visiting their National Day of Listening website.

This StoryCorp request and nudge toward multi-media lifestory and family history projects seems timely. I still advocate print and written stories as the basic medium, because it is the most durable and accessible, but sound recordings, video, digital scrapbooks and photo albums definitely add impact to your stories by involving more channels of sensory input, and younger generations are becoming increasingly used to multi-media, even if they are avid readers.

If all you have available is a tape recorder or an older video camera that records on tape, don’t hesitate to use it. Just keep in mind that both audio and video tapes tend to deteriorate over time, and it’s becoming difficult to purchase players for them, so as soon as possible, get any tapes you have, new or old, transferred to digital format and burned to CD or DVD disks for storage. You can convert audio tapes yourself with a tape player that has a port for connecting to an external speaker, an audio cable (available for a few dollars at any electronics department), and the free open source Audacity sound capture program. If you ask around, you probably know someone with a combination VCR/DVD recorder to use for playing the tape and simultaneously recording it to a DVD disk, or you can purchase such a device for as little as $59 online (check reviews!).

If and when if your budget allows, prices for digital recorders and camcorders are plummeting. If you already have an iPod or other mp3 player, it may have a voice recorder function that will do the trick. My Creative Zen V Plus mp3 player that I spent $79 for a year ago isn’t quite studio quality, but it’s as good as most tape recorders and quite adequate for the purpose. Cnet.com offers excellent product reviews along with buying guides such as this one for mp3 players to help you choose.

Most digital cameras today have a video mode. It may produce a rather small image, but it’s better than nothing, and you won’t be able to turn the clock back later when you get a better one. Even if the video is less than the best, you'll have the audio. Start with an empty card, the largest you have, and set the camera on a tripod or prop it on a solid surface while you do your interview.

A scanner is the only equipment you need to take old photos and pop them into PowerPoint (or the free OpenOffice equivalent, Impress). Add captions, and get as creative as you want with special effects. You can even record a voice track and add music if you feel adventurous and dig around in Help to figure out how.

Think out of the box and use the toys you already have to create something wonderful. Your imagination will be stretched, you’ll form lots of new neural connections to keep your brain healthy as you learn new tricks to use the software involved, and your family will love the results.

Write now: inventory your gear and use the guidelines on the National Day of Listening site to make plans for recording an audio and/or video interview on the National Day of Listening this year. Find half a dozen old photos, scan them into the computer if you haven’t already done so, and make a simple PowerPoint slide show.

November is National Life Writing Month

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Ultimate Oak Leaf

I occasionally use the following two paragraphs in a PowerPoint presentation during writing classes to illustrate the point that stripping words to their bare essence is one of the most effective ways to emphasize the power of your message:

I look up at the gnarled oak tree, starkly outlined against the sky and see a single dry leaf clinging tenaciously to the largest limb. Every other leaf in the woods fell to the ground weeks ago when we had that last fierce wind, but this leaf may still be there until the tree buds in the spring. The leaf reminds me of my mother, clinging stubbornly to life long past the time when it seemed her body was ready to let go. (83 words)

Lifeless oak leaves cling tenaciously to skeletal branches. Well into winter, they stubbornly resist gales, unwilling to separate from the reality they've known. My mother was the ultimate oak leaf. (30 words)

The most common response after several seconds of silence is “How do you get from number one to number two?

I can answer with assurance, because I wrote those two paragraphs several years ago in response to a writing group challenge to pare a paragraph by at least fifty percent to expose the key message. I rose to the challenge. The process was similar to stripping layers of paint from a flea market find to expose the beautiful wood underneath. This second paragraph is only thirty- six percent of the original, and the uncluttered point is in sharp focus. I assure you that getting it to that point took more than ten minutes! I nipped, tucked, rearranged, and reworded. I kept pecking away, leaving and coming back over the course of nearly a week. I probably revised it thirty-seven times before I got it to the point where I’m no longer tempted to change anything.

Even those of us who know that stories are much like infants (emerging from the womb pliable and bloody) tend to forget the amount of work polished writers put into their creations. Keep that in mind as you do battle with that inner critic lashing out at you with statements like “You’ll never be able to write like that!” or “You aren’t creative enough to come up with such stunning images.”

Talk back to your critic. Firmly insist that you can do anything if you practice and learn. You need time and patience, and you are entitled to as many drafts as it takes. Add words where they are needed to flesh out a description, and then get out the pruning shears. Remember that less is more.

Write now: take a first draft paragraph and remove at least twenty-five percent of the words to strengthen the message. Rewording is allowed. The focus is on thought and word count, not the specific words. Post a comment and let us know how you did.

Joy Writing

Photo by Jurvetson

You know the image of the writer as a starving, tortured soul, each agonized word blurred on the page by sweat beads dripping from his brow. He writes in longhand, on a hand-hewn log desk, by candlelight, wrapped in rags against the wintry blast, with only a crust of bread to sustain his unworthy efforts, and page after page of tormented efforts are wadded into balls and tossed into the fireplace for a bit of added warmth. He makes frequent stops to sharpen the quill with which he writes or to fill the inkwell into which he dips that plume. He may occasionally resort to chopping kindling to gather his erratic thoughts, mind churning in sync with his stomach. In the depths of his heart, he knows these efforts will pay off. His words will be pressed upon millions of pages and stir the hearts of readers with passion second only to his.

You know the image. You may even relate to that image and fear to write because of it. I say to you now, forget it! It’s only a myth. Writing doesn’t have to be this way. Listen to your muse. Loosen up. Write for the sheer fun of it.

“Fun?” Your unspoken question reverberates even unto my heart and ears. Yes! I said fun. Joy. Pick up your pencil and take a joy break.

Maybe before you take write for joy, a little physical action is in order. When was the last time you zoomed around your yard, arms dipping and rising like an airplane? I admit this is not one of my daily activities, but I did try it last summer. I swooped around, dipping and diving, making airplane sounds. I marched like a majorette with knees rising high. I whirled and twirled, stopping just short of falling in a heap on the asphalt. After six or seven minutes, I felt loose as a goose, both mentally and physically. I felt young at heart, and considerably younger in body.

You can do the same thing indoors, moving wildly to magic music, something with a strong beat and lots of energy. For now, try it alone. Or blow some bubbles if you have a bottle around. Catch a few on your hand.

Now, you are ready to write. Start a story with “Once upon a time there was a little (girl or boy, your pick). S/he lived in ...” You take it from there. Make it wild. Transcend gravity. Fly. Swim under the sea. Leap tall buildings with a single bound. Be totally outrageous. Nobody is going to read this, unless you decide to share.

How did that feel? Why don’t you write this way all the time? Because your inner critic won’t let you, that’s why. Talk back to your critic (in my case, Gretchen). Say something like, “Gretchen, I know you have my best interests at heart, but I need a break. I need some joy. Please sit back, have some milk and cookies while I write. You can check it over later.”

By the way, your words will surely flow most freely if you write by hand, on paper, but that’s only one option. Do what feels write to you. Write it your way, with joy.

Start out with easy, childlike topics, and as you grow more comfortable, you’ll find it ever easier to write joy-fully, even about dark topics, knowing that your playful spirit will find the hidden blessing within. You’ll have a fresher attitude, less stress, brighter descriptions. You’ll knock away your blocks with a writer’s rush, and generally juice up your writing. Your writer’s voice will sing. But best of all, it’s fun!

Just in case you were wondering, this child-like joy writing originates on the creative, write side of your brain, not the reasonable, rational, linear left.

Write now: with joy. Follow the directions above and write something fun, like blowing bubbles and hopping inside one to travel away to a magical place.

Light At the End of the Tunnel?

In one more week, 168 hours, we’ll be watching the early returns. This awful election will finally be over, and we’ll begin to have a sense of what direction things may go in the next four years. But I can't help wondering, is the light at the end of the tunnel a train?

Each presidential election for the last couple of decades has grown more distressing to me. I can’t recall the last time I voted for a candidate because I thought he or she was well-suited for the job rather than voting for the lesser of two evils. That is more true this year than ever.

As I contemplate this election and the state of the nation, I feel a strong urge to record these thoughts and my general political history for posterity. I want future generations to know how troubling this campaign has been for me and why I don’t trust or believe either candidate; why each one scares me, for different reasons. I want them to know my views of the issues of the times.

I also want them to know about our family political history. As a child I learned to take politics quite seriously, and was excited about turning 21 and being old enough to vote. (Yes, I’m so old I couldn’t vote until I was old enough to drink!) My maternal grandmother was the first state president of the New Mexico Republican Women’s Club, and she served as a delegate to the National Convention in 1952 and 1956. I remember listening to all the sessions of the 1956 convention on the radio, hoping to hear her name if not her voice.

I aspired to follow in her footsteps, joining the Republican Women in Richland, Wash. in time for the 1972 campaign. Those were also turbulent years, as much on the local and state level as national. That was the year we were voting on the Equal Rights Amendment in Washington, and I was in the thick of that campaign. I stayed active in the Republican party for several years, but thenI overheard the county chairwoman confide to someone that although she attended services and occasionally donated money to one of the churches in town, “the Republican Party is my real church!” My hair stood on end, and that was the end of my active party involvement.

I prefer not to look too closely at the way the government runs today; the way deals are made, ears marked, barrels filled with pork, and “walking around money” buys votes for members of the double-size Pennsylvania legislature. When I think of those things, I am filled with despair. What can one person do?

One person can vote. I can vote for the least of the evils. I can talk to the incumbents between elections and make my views known. I can send e-mails. I can talk to friends, and I can stay informed. Yes, there is a lot I can do, and will be doing more of in coming years than past, and I want to leave a record of that, perhaps in story, certainly in my journal. And when I record these thoughts, I will be sure to note that although I may sound pessimistic, I am convinced that the future will indeed be brighter than it looks right now. Whichever candidate wins will surely make sweeping changes, and ultimately that can make way for good things to happen down the road.

Write now: grab your journal or sit down at your keyboard and write down your feelings about the 2008 presidential election. Who will you vote for? Why? How do you feel about this candidate? Have your political leanings changed over the years? Do you make an effort to stay informed, or make your choices based on headlines and friend’s recommendations?

Living Color

I’m a great fan of Natalie Goldberg. Not long ago I read her book, Living Color. The book is filled with Natalie’s glorious art, in all its aberrant color. Natalie explains her color choices on page 3:

I was delighted one day to paint an adobe house blue. Stepping through the belief that I must paint mud brown, I experienced an explosion of energy and freedom. It was as though that blue paint were a sword slashing through illusion, bringing me into direct connection with the house’s essence. Objects began to dance unhinged from their proper pigment. That man is green, those sheep are maroon, that horse is scarlet, I suddenly wanted to shout with a new-found freedom as I gazed around me from the hilltop where I had drawn the blue house.

Her explanation about using color to learn metaphor is hazy, but I was intrigued with the idea of playing with color that way. It reminded me of a post I wrote in September about the origins of the Inner Critic. I felt bold. I wanted to play with color, and I wanted to do it the easy way, so I Googled my way to The Coloring Spot and found ready-to-color pictures. In the interests of full disclosure and truth, I’ll admit that I did my coloring on a fresh layer in Photoshop® with a virtual felt-tip pens. It would have been easier to print the pictures and color with crayons!

I began with the Great Wall of China. I didn’t give specific thought to choosing color. I just picked orange for the sky and went from there. I did add a big yellow sun, because the picture told me it needed a sun, and I didn’t want to mess with the sun. The sun is what it is. Everything else is negotiable. I also added a person (me) walking on the wall. I didn’t bother to add the other thousands of people who were there with me. I feel lonely without them, so next time I’ll draw more people. 

The Great Wall was so much fun I turned to Mt. Rushmore. As I began scribbling, my inner child grew tired. My Brat started arguing with my Good Girl. Mommy had to put the colors away.So, I had fun. I had lots and lots of fun. Did I learn anything about writing? Sort of. I did some writing practice and discovered that I can write nutty, bizarre descriptions, wild as you can imagine. I wrote about a man who needed to have his lawn mowed to keep it out of his eyes, and a walking flower garden (a woman in a wild floral print dress. I can crumple these up and toss them into the trash when I'm done if I want. My mind grows a little wider this way. I’ve put out a few feeder roots out of my thought ruts toward more colorful descriptions.

In a few days I’m going to get out my crayons and color with my three-year-old granddaughter. I want her to know it’s okay to make the sky orange if she wants to (just in case she hasn't figured this out). I’ll invite Natalie to sit with us, in spirit if not body, since she has no children or grandchildren of her own. I know she’d have fun.

Write now: take a break with your box of crayons or marking pens, or Photoshop. Dare to color outside the lines and use unexpected colors. Be brave. Be bold. Have fun. Then go back to your writing and write something utterly ridiculous and audacious. See how it feels to use big juicy words for tiny topics.

Secrets

Secrets! We all have them. Many will go with us to our graves, perhaps because they are so trivial we forget them.

Ybonesy reminded me of a couple with her RedRavine post about a minor mishap she had as a newly licensed driver that she and her passengers attempted to cover up with a Secret. I wrote a comment about early driving secrets my sister blackmailed me with for ages.

This type of secret is bush league compared to the Secrets discussed by Polly Kahl in a blog interview with Howard Dully, co-author of the NYT best-selling memoir My Lobotomy. In Part 2 of the interview, Polly explains her early life, the subject of a memoir she recently finished and is shopping around.

For me, the meat in her material is her description of the interviews she had with people in her past as she researched and wrote her story. She interviewed family members, neighbors, all sorts of people, and got varying responses. Of one man who was twice her age of 14 when he had sex with her, she says, “...when I interviewed him, he offered to me that it was sexual abuse, and he offered to me an apology, so it wasn’t like I was confronting him, it was like he offered me the gift of apology, and because of that it was a very healing experience for me.”

In both her case and Dully’s, their parents “just don’t get it.” That’s okay, they claim. It’s enough that they had the discussion. Coerced apologies or psuedo confessions and understanding are meaningless. What matters, as I understand their accounts, is that they brought it up, gave people a chance to explain, and their consciences are clear with respect to writing about the memories. They did not wait until the people were dead and no longer had a chance to explain or defend themselves.

Whatever the outcome, disclosing these secrets and writing about them has been profoundly healing for both. Legions of other memoirists have had the same healing experience, and readers often experience vicarious healing through reading these accounts.

Still, most people are as unlikely to publicly bare their emotional scars and shame in print as they are to parade down Main Street in their birthday suits. That’s okay. The good news is that you can experience the same degree of healing if you write for an audience of one. You don’t need to write a polished memoir or even an organized story, so weak writing skills are not an impediment. Journals are a profound way of writing to heal emotional wounds and weaknesses.

I’ve begun exploring the wonderful world of journaling in depth. Stay tuned for more on this important aspect of life writing and the role it can play in lifestory writing.

Write now: find a secluded spot and make a list of secrets you keep closely hidden. You’ll be amazed at the power of seeing these words in print, on paper, in the light of day. When you have finished, burn or shred your list if you have any fears that it may be found.

The Turkey Farm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Write-It-Yourself Gifts

The holiday season is approaching approaching like a freight train, and legions of people are looking for inexpensive gift ideas this year. Here’s an idea for you: Give the gift of yourself.

If you have already been writing life stories, this may be the perfect year to compile an anthology of your stories, lay them out nicely in a single document, and upload them to Lulu.com or Amazon’s CreateSpace for printing. You can produce a fully professional volume in your choice of hard or soft cover for a fraction of what it used to cost. For example, a 220 page paperback in the standard “trade” size of 6" x 9" lists right now for $6.25 base price on Lulu.com.

I used Lulu.com last year to publish The Albuquerque Years, a memoir of my life as a preschooler. It is 88 pages, full of photos, a slightly larger, wider page size (7.44" x 9.68") to accommodate the pictures and it sells (without any markup) for $6.29 on the Lulu website. You can also download a free eBook version there.

If you are primarily interested in creating books for your own use as gifts, or for order at cost by family members and friends, I recommend that you work with Lulu. They will convert your file to pdf format for you (although you can easily do this yourself with the free, downloadable pdf conversion utility, PrimoPDF), they have on online cover creation utility if you need help with that, and they allow you to list the book in their catalog without adding a markup for royalties if you wish. You can even allow people to download your book as a eBook for free from their website.

CreateSpace also allows you to obtain copies of your book with no set-up fee, and they may be even less expensive than Lulu. I say may be, because quite frankly, I find CreateSpace confusing and a bit intimidating. I set up an account, but did not easily find information on pricing and related matters. Even though it is confusing, I do recommend CreateSpace for projects you want to sell commercially with a royalty. The direct link into Amazon is probably worth the hassle, and I have heard good things about the quality.

There are other Print-On-Demand services, but these are the only two I know enough about to comment on.

If you don’t have a pile of stories ready to be compiled, you may prefer to do a cookbook with favorite family recipes. Write a short story with a quick memory associated with each recipe, and include Cooks Notes about menus using the recipe, special modifications you make, who especially likes it, and that sort of thing. I haven’t checked this on CreateSpace, but on Lulu you can order your book bound with a comb binding, a nice option for cookbooks. The advantage of using Lulu is that you can select page sizes other than letter-size as you’d get at a local copy shop.

Since you can include an unlimited quantity of photos and other artwork in a Print-On-Demand book, you could also create an annotated photo album. Lulu can print in color as well as black-and-white, though the cost per page is significantly higher.

If you need help with layout to get your manuscript ready for conversion to a pdf file, I give step-by-step instructions for everything you need to know in the final chapter of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing.

So, there you have it — ideas for write-it-yourself gifts, and a referral to a production partners to make it happen. Get those fingers flying while there's still time, and delight the people on your list with a one-of-a-kind, write-it-yourself gift.

Write now: an outline of contents for a gift book for one or more people. But don’t stop with the outline. Keep your momentum going and create the file.

To Post, or Not to Post

For various reasons, I have not actively encouraged people to post lifestories on the Internet. Today I heard a chance remark that sent my thoughts around a corner. As I talked about lifestory writing with a Senior Center program director, she mentioned how much she wishes she had stories about her grandparents, who are all deceased.

“With the Internet, it is so easy to find out facts about people, and who your ancestors were, but there aren’t any stories,” she lamented.

“Wow!” I replied. “You are so right. If people put stories, even general ones, on a website, maybe in forty years one of their descendants would find it after everyone had lost and forgotten about paper copies.”

The idea of thinking forty years or more into the future about something changing as fast as the Internet taxes my imagination, but it’s worth a shot. I would not post anything highly personal, and I wouldn’t post anything with enough specific information (like birth date and place, address, phone number, and so forth) that could make you a target of identity thieves, but posting a few general stories about your life and times could strengthen your place in history. If the website fades into oblivion, you haven’t lost much.

A growing number of websites encourage people to post life stories at no charge. Not surprisingly most are subsidized by the various services they offer to help you collect your stories, lay them out, organize them and publish them. I have no personal experience with any of these fee-based services, but they look like solid places to post stories. In addition to the sites on listed in my Post Your Stories links, I have found several more. I have not explored these in any depth, but they look interesting.

• Life's Story Travel stories requested.

• Tokoni A new story posting site founded by Skype and eBay executives.

• Dandelife A place for your multi-media urges. A one-stop shop mash-up of photos, video and blog-type story entries. Most are just story.

• Our Story Save photos, videos and stories on your own personal timeline.

• Real Life Stories of Inspiration A place to post your inspiring real life success stories.

• Archive X Submit stories about your paranormal experiences.

• Story of My Life Sign up for free and post your stories “forever.” There seem to be lots of ways to organize and link your stories to those of family members and others.

I don’t know if any of these sites will last for decades, but it’s fun to have people read your work and comment on it, and I recently learned that this is a great way to flesh out a Writer’s Resume for those who may seek paying publication opportunities.

Write now: pick a site and post one of your favorite stories. See you Out There.

Clearing the Dead Would

In his essay, Politics and the English Language , George Orwell shared a list of five Writing Tips. Rule #4 is  

Never use the passive where you can use the active.

This may be the single most valuable tip for improving your writing that you’ll every hear. A search for “passive tense” turns up more than a million links to advice urging you to reword your work and frame it in active tense.>
I’m not going to dwell on that advice. I’m going to share the second most important tip:

Get rid of the dead would. 

An example of dead would follows:

In the summer my friend Annie and I would often pack a picnic lunch. Then we’d head for the beach where we would set up our umbrellas. We would rub Coppertone suntan lotion on each others backs and settled onto our towels. Sooner or later the guys would show up and ....

Compare that passage with this revised version that does nothing more than eliminate would:

In the summer my friend Annie and I often packed a picnic lunch. Then we headed for the beach where we set up our umbrellas. We rubbed Coppertone suntan lotion on each others backs and settled onto our towels. Sooner or later the guys showed up and ...

Doesn’t that just brighten the passage right away?
 
The word would does have a legitimate place in the language. For example, it’s appropriate to say, “I would do it if he gave me $50,” or “I would do it for $50.” In both these cases, would is properly used in its conditional sense, not as a verb modifier.

Most of the time would serves only to muddy the voice of your writing. Read through your stories and scrub it clean of any would not directly paired with a condition.

Write now: read through several old stories to see if they have a “woulden” frame and edit as needed.

Attitude of Gratitude

I’m grateful to Blogster for this blog site, and for everyone who reads it. I’m grateful for a huge long list of other things. I’m a great believer in the power of gratitude — the attitude of gratitude, that is, not just the word.

I didn’t always understand gratitude. In fact, although I’ve known the word forever, it’s a relatively new concept to me, as a state of mind anyway. Sure, I always knew the importance of being thankful, but for me, being thankful doesn’t have the same ring to it, the same gut feel, as gratitude, and it's not nearly as powerful. I’m grateful that I learned about gratitude, and have come to understand the importance of this simple emotion in enhancing both mental and physical health.

I first began to focus on Gratitude as a specific mindset three or so years ago when an invitation to join the first 42 Day GoGratitude experiment arrived in my e-mail. Each day for 42 days, I received a zany thought-prompt about gratitude. The founders chose 42 days, because experts say it take 21 days to cement a new habit, so they doubled it to ensure that Gratitude became a habit.

About the same time I read about Gratitude as one of the keys to stress reduction in The HeartMath Solution, by Doc Childre and Howard Martin, and I found it as part of the Journey to Wild Divine biofeedback game I gave myself as a 60th birthday present.

The concept has grown, and the Internet is awash with Gratitude sites, including instructions on how to keep a Gratitude Journal, (for example, the Simple Abundance site, SleepyDust, and eHow). WebMD offers a video on Gratitude and links to articles on Gratitude and Health such as this one by Joan Borysenko.

Today my Gratitude Adventure has come full circle. GoGratitude has begun a second 42 series. This time the focus is the whole world. I derived so much personal benefit from the first round that I’m definitely in for the second. You can find out more about it and get involved yourself by clicking over to their new World Gratitude site to view a video and sign up if you wish.

Write now: a list of things you are grateful for. Or start a gratitude journal. Or write a story about an experience or person you are grateful for. And sign up for the 42 day journey.