What Does It Look, Sound, and Feel Like?

This graphic featured on Rosemary D’Amato Karas’s Pinterest site caught my eye. It looks like this list originated as a brainstorming exercise to teach students what respect is and how to show it. I’m sure it worked well for that purpose.

I saw something else too – a dandy exercise to prepare to “show” respect in your writing rather than “telling” about it.

For example, a first draft may include the line, “He didn’t show me any respect” without going into any detail or telling you what that means in this particular situation.

Perhaps on the second draft you might write, “He kept interrupting me and answered his phone three times while I was trying to talk to him. I finally asked him if he was listening, and he snarled ‘What do you think?’ He had no respect at all!”  

You may notice that I turned the list inside out in that example and wrote about the lack of respect. That’s the neat thing about exploring a concept like respect. You can use opposites. For example, interrupting is the opposite of people waiting their turn, and snarling is the opposite of being kind.

This list is similar to sensory awareness exercises I use with students in my class, Writing With Seven Senses. In addition to asking what something looks like and sounds like, you ask what it feels like – tactually and/or emotionally, what it tastes and smells like, and what general sense you have of it. Perhaps you’ll even explore what it reminds you of as you search for metaphors.

It’s rare that you make a list that includes elements of each and every sense. I admit that I’m drawing a blank for the literal taste and smell of respect, but my sense of it is that it’s sweet, rather like success. Likewise, I can’t think what it would feel like to rub my hands over respect. It’s probably smooth, maybe satiny. Emotionally respect feels warm and fuzzy, to use the vernacular of the seventies. When I receive respect I feel slightly larger, stronger, wiser and it’s easier to be my own best self.

These steps will help you enliven your stories with more showing and less telling:

• Look for sentences like the one in the first example where you use one-size-fits-all words like respect.

• Use the list of senses: looks like, sounds like, feels like (tactually and/or emotionally), smells like, tastes like, and general sense of. Jot down thoughts about how each of these dimensions fits that concept or thing.

• Ponder what this concept or thing reminds you of.

• Use your expanded awareness to flesh out the bone of your draft and convey your memory and sense of the situation to your reader.

These suggestions will jumpstart your creativity, and pull your reader into the scene with you. Your writing will take on the pungency of wild roses in May.

Write now: write a new draft or pull out an old one. Find a concept or two like “respect” and jot down an analysis similar to the one in the illustration, but add the additional senses. Use these thoughts to expand your description, transforming “telling” into “showing.”

Alpacas Are Mom Enough

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Journal: a Treasure Chest of Memories

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mother Memoir

Lynn Henriksen, aka The Story Woman, is a woman with a mission. As she explains in a blog post on Telltale Souls.com, since her mother’s death over a decade ago, she has been collecting “Mother Memoir” stories. She publishes collections of these stories, and teaches people how to write them. Although I have not yet read it, her newly released how-to book, TellTale Souls Writing the Mother Memoir, is said to be a comprehensive guide to remembering and capturing the essence of your mother’s story – and probably your own in the process.

Memoirs about mothers abound. Since nobody came into this life without a mother, it’s hard to imagine writing a book-length memoir that didn’t mention the author’s mother at least in passing, but some dwell on the mother-child relationship in more depth than others. Flavorwire.com recently posted a list of “10 of the Best Memoirs About Mothers.” Many titles may be new to you, but chances are you’ve read (or at least heard of) The Glass Castle, by Jeannette Walls. The Flavorwire list barely scratches the surface. Carol O’Dell’s memoir, Mothering Mother, is a heart-rending read, and Linda Joy Myer's’ volume, Don’t Call Me Mother (soon to be re-released with additional chapters) is a fine example of writing about a darker type of maternal relationship.

While the volumes I just mentioned are book-length, even single-page memories and stories are a worthy tribute to the woman who brought you into the world and shaped your life. When I say tribute, I don’t necessarily mean accolade. Whether rosy or dark, your stories should reflect the truth of your mother as you knew her.

The fact is, stories without shadows and shape tend to be flat and uninteresting. Ann Lamott explains this in one of her books – I don’t remember which. Her novel Rosie is modeled on her family, with twists. She explained some of them. The mother in Rosie has one nostril larger than the other. She did this to give her more interest and character. Ann did similar things with behavioral and emotional quirks. Your mother may not have unbalanced nostrils, but she will have distinctive traits and quirks. Use these to add interest and color to your story. Don’t just tell how loving she was. Include a little conflict and tension, thus showing her as real and human.

And definitely include snippets of daily life. That which you took for granted back then has already changed dramatically and will continue to do so. Let future generations know what ordinary life was like “back then.”

Whether your mother sported a halo or horns, hopefully you’ll show her foibles with compassion and understanding, as Jonna Ivin does in Will Love For Crumbs and Linda Joy Myers does in Don’t Call Me Mother.

If you have accolades, what better time to record them than this Mother’s Day season? If your memories are more tender and sore, writing about them may help you shift your perspective and find the understanding and compassion that can sooth many of those raw memories. Whatever the case, your story or stories will make an important contribution to your legacy of personal and family history for future generations.

Write now: make a list of key memories involving you and your mother. Select one and write about it. Include details of the scene where it takes place. Include some dialogue and show what your mother looked like. Give a sense of her emotional state – and yours as you interacted in this scene.

Photo: Marjorie Melton. Happy Mother’s Day Mom, your memory lives on.

Snippets

This guest post is reprinted by permission from Fresh Views, a monthly newsletter published  by Sharon Eakes, an internationally acclaimed  personal and executive coach and a treasured personal friend. Her focus this month on “snippets” is reminiscent of terms like watershed moments, turning points, or shimmering images used as story prompts and memoir organizers. You’ll be hearing more about snippets in an upcoming post or two based on epiphanies I experienced during a recent trip to Peru. 

Snippet: a small piece of something, a bit, a scrap, or fragment

THOUGHTS

I recently visited my daughter, Lisa, in California. Driving to the coast, we passed the Lagunitas Deli. I had a vivid memory of going there over twenty years ago on the way to a picnic. I asked the clerk, “Do you sell single rolls?” and he handed me a roll of toilet paper. “No, no, a sandwich roll,” I laughed. And he gave me the other kind of roll. Nothing worth remembering about that encounter, but I remember who I was with, the face of the clerk, our laughing together.

It seems to me that life is made up of snippets: scraps of time, memory, experience. It doesn’t surprise me that I remember the big highs and lows…the time I was climbing rocks on the beach and nearly got swept into the ocean when the tide came in faster than anticipated. The moments after giving birth. Of course, one would remember those. But it’s the small things, the snippets of memory or experience that entertain me on a daily basis.

• When my son Gordon was two, he asked me to remove a “crumb of light” from his crib. It changed light for me and I’ll never forget the phrase. It may also have been the first clue that he would be a consummate wordsmith.
  
• While on my morning walk last Thursday, a squirrel walked next to me along the top of a fence. At the end of the block we stopped and looked each other in the eye for what seemed like a long time before he skedaddled up a tree. For just a moment I felt genuinely connected to him. That reminded me of a time many years ago when a dolphin played peek-a-boo with me at the mouth of the Kiawah River for 3 mornings in a row!

This morning I was with friends who were sharing snippets. No complaining. No boasting. Just sharing. And being touched and tickled in turn.

I’m thinking we should write down some of our snippets, our stories. My grandfather did this, and I am so grateful. He lived in such a different time. Because I only knew him as a somewhat sedate older gentleman, it is delightful to know about the time he and his friends played a trick on their teacher by moving his buggy out of the garage and lodging it between two trees. Imagine their consternation when Mr. Brown turned out to be in the buggy they’d just moved, and said, “Thank you boys, I would have had to hitch the horses to move the buggy.”

COACHING QUESTIONS AND A SUGGESTION

1. How can you become aware of and treasure your snippets of experience as you live them?
   
2. What snippet in memory can you share to entertain both yourself and some friend or family member?
   
3. Write your snippets down or record them. Your family and friends will be glad you did.

Write now: think of a snippet or two of your own and share them in a comment on this post.

Visit Sharon Eakes on the web. Read previous edition and subscribe to Fresh Views here.

Photo credit:  Bert Heymans