Start the New Year Write

What do you plan to write in 2017? Are you setting writing resolutions for the year?

I gave up setting formal New Year’s Resolutions decades ago, but I still do spend some time thinking about what the year may hold and what I’d like to get done. My intentions for 2016 were to get settled in a new home and new community. That included finding local writing community.

The year unfolded just as I’d intended. As 2017 rolls in, I do feel settled. I still have a few embellishments to complete, but my previously adobe-colored office is now a cheery pale lemon ice with yards of white shelves on the walls. It has become the comfortable, creativity enhancing “room of my own” that I’ve always dreamed of having, and I no longer share space with the laundry.

Sure enough, community roots are spreading. I found a wonderful book club at my local library branch. We’ve connected with several neighbors in our larger community. We’re enjoying family events.

Starting to teach again…
I was unsure whether I wanted to return to teaching after our move, but Olga Wise, a writer friend I made at the 2008 Story Circle conference, insisted I get involved with Austin’s Lifetime Learning Institute (LLI), the rough equivalent of the Osher programs I was involved with in Pittsburgh. I’m forever grateful to Olga. That energizing experience reminded me why I love teaching lifestory writing.

You know how sometimes things seem preordained? I began mentioning to people I met in random places that I was teaching a lifestory writing class. “When are you doing it again? I’ve been looking for something like that!” I told them about LLI and took their names. I already knew demand is high. LLI offered three classes on some aspect of life writing last fall, and all were filled to capacity. Mine had 19 sign up with a limit of 18, and nobody here knew who I was.

That obvious enthusiasm nudged me to contact the program manager for Austin Public Libraries to explore possibilities for setting up library sponsored lifestory writing groups in branches. We concurred that starting small makes sense. Valentine’s week I’ll begin leading free, six-week classes in two library locations, with the stated goal that they’ll transform into self-sufficient, self-sustaining, ongoing writing groups when the classes end. We’ll see how that goes.

Meanwhile, about half the fall LLI class decided to keep meeting and they have become an officially sanctioned library group in a third location.

New book project …
My biggest writing project for the year is a new book, yet to be titled, to take the place of the now out-of-print Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. This book will cover the basics of writing piles of short stories that can later be incorporated into anthologies, memoirs, autobiographies, or some form of informal lifestory. You’ll be hearing a lot more about that project.

So, my writing vision for 2017 is a finished book by the end of the year, and at least fifty people engaged with lifestory writing groups here in Austin. If anyone feels inclined to begin teaching or starting groups in your community, please send me an email. I’ll be happy to help, however I can.

What about you?
What writing projects do you envision starting and/or completing in 2017? If you leave a brief comment about your hopes or committed plans, you’ll strengthen the likelihood you’ll actually  get them done.

If you don’t already have a project in mind, I have a suggestion: Finish an anthology of two dozen stories and use CreateSpace to print copies for family holiday gifts next year.

What have you accomplished in 2016? Toot your horn in a comment!

Punch Up Your Stories with Active Verbs

How exciting is it to read a story full of “it was” or “there were” phrases? Yes, you’ve heard it before – phrases like these are a variation of passive voice, and they put readers to sleep. Let’s explore alternatives.

As an example of the difference it can make to switch out dull, boring verbs with punchier active ones, Randall McKee agreed to let me use part of a documentary type story he recently read to our newly formed lifestory writing group. Randall read the “after” version, but confirmed that his first draft was indeed full of the dull form. Since he continued to save improvements over his initial draft, I took the liberty of reverse engineering the passage, especially the verbs, back to what they might have been. The clip below was excerpted from his opening paragraph:

… Blake's Barber Shop was next to the Brownfield Hotel on North 6th Street just off Broadway. Outside the shop was a traditional red, white and blue banded barber pole. A hat tree was next to the door. It was full of silver-belly Stetsons, neatly creased fedoras and soiled blue-striped railroad engineer's caps, head coverings for gentlemen from all walks of life. There was dark paneling halfway up the wall from a white tiled floor. Behind the barbers was a long wooden breakfront. Its shelf was piled with clippers, shaving mugs, brushes, bottles of hair tonic, aftershave and jars of Barbacide with scissors, straight razors and combs soaking in it. The breakfront had a mirror along it that looked like it doubled the number of items on the shelf. …

Now compare with the final version he read to the group:

… Blake's Barber Shop was next to the Brownfield Hotel on North 6th Street, just off Broadway. Outside the shop a traditional red, white and blue banded barber pole beckoned menfolk to enter. A hat tree stood next to the door, a harbor for silver-belly Stetsons, neatly creased fedoras and soiled blue-striped railroad engineer's caps, head coverings for gentlemen from all walks of life. Dark paneling rose halfway up the wall from a white tiled floor. Behind the barbers stood a long wooden breakfront, its shelf piled with clippers, shaving mugs, brushes, bottles of hair tonic, aftershave and jars of Barbacide in which scissors, straight razors and combs soaked. A mirror stretched the breakfront length. Its reflection appeared to double the number of items on the shelf. …

Notice how the second version is laced with action verbs: beckoned, stood, rose up,  piled, soaked, stretched, appeared to double. Doesn’t that second version just jump off the page compared to the first?

You aren’t likely to get that second result on your first draft, at least not right away. Randall explained that he wrote the first draft quickly to get it down on the page. Then he worked on polishing that first pass. “I looked at each sentence to consider how I might make it better.” I think you’ll agree that he did.

Use these tips to find and replace your ho-hum verbs:

1) Read through a story with a highlighter in hand. Mark each instance you use any form of a pronoun together with a form of the verb to be. Some variations include “it is,” “there were,” and “they were.” Please note: not all forms of being verbs are banned – just clichéd phrases with pronouns.

2) Ponder each sentence to determine what’s happening in it. What’s the message?

3) Exercise your creativity to find a suitable action verb to replace the “being” verb.

You may find this a challenge at first, and I guarantee they’ll invade your first drafts. My first draft of the previous sentence, “This may be … ,” got tossed. This is a vague pronoun and “may be” is a conditional form of to be. As you gain experience, you’ll find these being phrases popping out at you everywhere. Alternate phrasings will come more easily to mind.

Who knows? You may form the habit of thinking in active phrases, punching up conversations and becoming a more compelling story teller.

Start Your Story with a Hook

If you spend time worrying about the best way to start a story, you may never write it. Your first challenge is to get it on the page in any form at all. But before you release it to readers, give your opening some thought so you sink a hook firmly into readers’ brains and guts.

I offer these Before and After opening excerpts of a story titled Missing Neighbor that’s based on a personal experience.

Before

You would not believe the adventure I had with my friend Ellie. We were scheduled to take her to the airport at ten. I texted her around nine-thirty, and she didn't reply. I tried calling a few minutes later. She didn't answer, but I assumed she was on the phone with her daughter. Her voice mail was full. Hmm. Shall I go over there now just to check? No ... she's a big girl ... I muted my ESP.

At ten I rang the bell. No answer. I rang again. And again. I pounded on the door. She's expecting us now. What the heck? I decided to call her husband, who flew east four days ago. Maybe he’d heard something.

“Bring me my phone!” I hollered to Ed, who was standing by our car watching.

Suddenly it occurred to me to try the door. She does often leave it unlocked when she's expecting people. Huh! It opened! I went in. The house was dark. And silent. I saw no evidence of life. Very creepy!

“Ellie? Ellie!” I made my way toward the back of the long everything room, noticing the door on the sun porch was closed. At the end, I saw her bedroom door was closed. What will I find if I open it? Is she sick Or worse? What if she's ... dead? I feel like I’m living the opening chapter of a thriller novel! ….

After

Something is dreadfully wrong! This thought roils through my head after I punch the doorbell five more times and pound on the door and get no response. I see no light behind the frosted door glass. She has to be up. Her plane leaves in two hours. What am I going to do?

“Bring me my phone!” I holler across the yard to Ed, who stands waiting at our car. I’ll call Chuck. Maybe he’s heard from her. No matter that Chuck is already in Boston, her destination today.

My eye lands on the doorknob. Of course! She often leaves it unlocked when she’s expecting someone. I press the lever and the door swings open into their huge, dark, empty everything room. Aside from a fan whispering on the ceiling, I hear no sound except my pounding heart.

“Ellie? Ellie!” My skin crawls as I creep slowly toward the end of the room. “Ellie! Are you here?” I call out over and over, but hear no response. My heart beats even louder.

Ellie can be ditzy, but this is way out of character. She’s been planning this trip for months, and I’ve been booked for the airport run from the start. Yesterday she was excited about the weekend wedding she’s heading for. I should have followed my hunch and come over thirty minutes ago when she didn’t answer my text or her phone. But hey, she was probably talking to her daughter. She doesn’t interrupt those calls. She’s a big girl. I’m not her mommy. I’d muted my ESP.

The door to the sunroom is closed. I reach the hall to her room. It’s also closed. Maybe she’s in the shower. But what if she’s sick? What if she’s gone? What if she’s … dead? I feel like I’m living the opening chapter of a thriller novel!”

“Ellie? Are you up?”

I hold my breath as I approach the door, reaching for the knob ….

~ ~ ~

You may not be surprised to learn that the Before version began life as an email, which is a great way to discover and develop a story draft. In fact, it’s just fine to send it as an email. Whether you send it or not, you may want to copy it out and develop it further. I decided to hold onto mine before sending it off and exercise a little creativity.

I realized that the creepy, horrified feeling I had as I crept through her house was the perfect beginning for a compelling mystery novel. Taking all the advice I’ve read from both fiction authors and experts like Lisa Cron in Wired for Story, I cut right to the emotion-filled point where my stomach began churning and let it build from there, looping briefly back to tell who Ellie is.

Are you curious about what I found? Was Ellie hurt or … dead? Mission accomplished.

Writing tip: write a new story or pull out an old one and find the juicy part. Rewrite the story starting with that.

Things Happen When It’s Time

Things happen when it’s time. The longer I live, the more strongly I believe that. I know this sounds like a cop-out to lots of people, and I don’t mean it in the sense that we shouldn’t set goals and target dates and all that good stuff. But sometimes life intervenes with the best-laid plans, and sometimes we don’t know what we don’t know until … suddenly we do.

My latest example is my car keys. I take them with me when I leave the house, even when I know my husband will be driving. Such was the case last Monday. Tuesday I reached for them to head for a meeting, and they were nowhere to be found. We both turned my purse inside out and searched every nook and cranny in the car. I checked pockets. I folded laundry and reorganized our closet. I cleaned my desk and the catch-all drawer. I retraced our steps the previous day. Those keys had disappeared.

I was stuck! I had nowhere else to look. I lived in limbo for days, dreading the cost of a replacement key.

Six days later, some spirit moved me to look in my purse again. Happy Dance time! The keys were in a side pocket I never use and we’d both overlooked. I found them when they were ready to be found. (Go ahead and laugh — or scoff. I'm not offended.)

In my last post, "Getting Traction," I wrote about being stuck. I was stuck because I was working with the wrong concept and didn’t know it yet. I was, as Ruth Pennebaker puts in her recent book title, a "woman on the edge of a nervous breakthrough." Last week, reading a guest post written by Janet Givens’ dog and riffing with Ian Mathie in the comments pushed me over the edge and that breakthrough occurred. A totally new concept struck me like a bolt of lightning. I’d been writing the wrong book! I was writing more of the same, and it’s time for a radical new approach. Of course!

This was not a fuzzy concept I had to wrestle to the ground. It was delivered complete in all detail. All I have to do is write. Which is what I’ve been doing for several days now. I’m out of the sand and have traction again.  It’s going well.

But it won’t be finished right away. Life is still intervening. As I knew it would, a large editing and manuscript preparation assignment arrived in my inbox today. That job has top priority. Even without the interruption, my project would take a few months. But that’s okay. It will be done when it’s time. If I try to hurry the writing, on this book or any project, I’m likely to miss something crucial, like finding out I’m on the wrong path.

I’m not the only one who’s been stuck on a wrong writing path. I know several others whose projects floundered until they realize they had some hidden issues about content that were unresolved. Once they realized this, things snapped into focus and their stories took a much better shape.They weren't ready to understand the needed shift in focus until it happened. It wasn't time.

By the way, I’m more than a little convinced that the playfulness of Janet’s post, combined with the banter with Ian, was a magic key that unlocked the new concept. We’re never too old to laugh and play.

I’m adding three new items to my checklist for things to do when I’m stuck.

• Go back and read the map again to make sure I’m on the right path.
• Take time out to play. Have fun. Get wild and crazy and laugh a lot.
• Keep sight of the goal and have faith that I will get there. When it’s time.

Points to ponder: What do you do when you feel stuck? What is your favorite, most powerful form of play?

My Brain on Story

An ongoing, passionate, urge to write is upon me. Primarily I’m engrossed in creating a second edition of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. I began writing that book ten years ago. All print runs have sold out, and I told the publisher I did not want it to continue as a Print On Demand volume. I feel compelled to freshen it up with new insights rather than perpetuating what seems like a stale version. 

As I finally found the energy to rip into the guts, I found the courage to question everything I said, and I’m ripping it apart with abandon. I’d forgotten how energizing it can be to smash into things with a sledge hammer. Many years ago I literally hammered out tile and sawed out fiberglass in two bathroom renovations. What fun! This book may also be stripped to studs, and it may take way longer than the four to six weeks I’d intended. 

Or maybe not. Story has me by the brain. I’m dreaming about how to express things. Is that sleeping or writing? Mostly the latter. If I don’t get up and get it on the page, I’ll lie awake, afraid I’ll forget. Nothing will do but to hit the keyboard while it’s clear in mind. Keep a notepad by my bed? Great idea, but I don’t sleep alone, so I’d get up anyway to write the note. Then I’m awake. 

In the wee hours this morning my essay, Mayhem at Camp RYLA (download from the Free Stuff tab) came to mind. A couple of weeks ago my son-in-law and daughter and I got into a hammer and tongs discussion about the nature of Truth. I used the example from my essay of the water pistol being misinterpreted as a real gun. Sally Johnson had an extreme response to what she perceived as gun fire. The gun produced as evidence was a water pistol. Nobody knew until later that Sally worked as a bank teller and had been involved less than three months earlier in an armed robbery where a bystander was hit by a stray bullet. The mere glint of sunshine on a gun was enough to trigger a traumatic flashback. That young woman was suffering from PTSD. Nobody knew. Not even her. 

My point at dinner was that to Sally, that object in Mary’s hand was indisputably a pistol full of bullets. That was absolute truth to her, and from her point or view, absolute truth to me. 

“No. There is no way that is true. She may have thought it was true, but the fact is that gun was a water pistol and she was wrong!” Passions were running high, but I stood my ground, realizing that the best I could hope for was for us to agree to disagree. I was tired after three days attending a conference and not on my toes. I may pursue the matter again, because I feel strongly that it’s important for people, especially opinion leaders such as they are, to recognize that Truth comes in fifty shades of white, and I’m not sure that they do. The empirically documentable fact remains that Mary was carrying a water pistol.

But that doesn’t make Sally’s instant perception wrong or untrue. To her, that was a pistol loaded with bullets. Reconciling her instant perception with the reality of the water pistol was almost as traumatic for her as the original assault had been. I wish now I’d stayed in touch with her. Traumatic or not, it seems like a good thing that she recognized the effect of the trauma as soon as she did. 

But what if the junior staff had roared back out of camp and disposed of the evidence like they would have on television? Life is seldom so simple. In that case, we would not have had empirical truth. Sally’s perception would stand. Would that make it more true? I submit that it would. 

Furthermore, each camper saw and experienced the event in a unique way and left with different interpretations. It probably had the most dramatic and lasting impact on Sally and me. As noted in the essay, I was conducting workshops on communication skills at the time, with an emphasis on active listening and the filters involved. I’ve used this event as am example in classes and workshops countless times over the years. 

This morning I woke to see that event as worthy of much deeper exploration, and it may play a large role in the introductory material in the Second Edition. Now I can go back to sleep. Maybe. Stay tuned!

Points to Ponder: How often have you been in a situation where you were sure of something that turned out otherwise? How did this discovery affect you? How did it affect your “story” about what happened? Did you try looking at the situation from other eyes? How could shifting perspectives change a story you’re writing or thinking about writing? Considering alternate points of view can dramatically change a story, even your view of life. 

Writing by Hand versus Keyboard

“Is it better to write by hand or on the keyboard?” 

This question comes up at the beginning of every class I teach.

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell them. Today I expand with a bit of advice. “Do whatever you’re most comfortable with. But even if you prefer a keyboard, writing by hand at least part of the time can prime your creative pump.” This advice comes from a combination of personal experience and science.

In my experience teaching, I’ve noticed that a few students routinely write terse, dry little stories that do little beyond stating a few facts. Unlike most in the class, their skill level does not seem to improve.

A woman I’ll call Alice is typical of these students. While most students are challenged to stick to one-and-a-half page limit for assigned stories, Alice’s stories were never longer than half a page. Although this was technically against the rules, she always spent longer explaining the story in class than reading it. In contrast to written versions, her oral stories were rich and intriguing and we encouraged her to include all those extra elements in the written story.

Alice was not discouraged. Though her stories never expanded, she did keep coming to class and plodding along with her writing. In that respect she was a fine example of my strong belief that any bit of personal history that you write and share will eventually be treasured by family members, though perhaps not right away.

One day as I looked at her typos and awkward formatting, I had an idea. “Alice, do you type easily and well?” I asked her privately after class. Sure enough, she was a hunt-and-peck typist. “Do you write your stories by hand first, or start them on the computer?”

“Oh, I start out right away on the computer. I don’t want to have to do all that extra work to type them later.”

I asked her to write her story by hand the next week. She could bring the hand-written copy to class, or type it in when she was finished. Sure enough, the next week her tantalizing story thrilled the class. Alice floated out of class that day on a cloud of praise for her new writing style, and her skills continued to progress from there.

My hunch had been that she was so focused on finding letters on the keyboard that she lost track of her story as she wrote, and most of it got lost until she came to class when it began flooding in again. She agreed that was the case. From then on, she wrote by hand first and typed the stories in later.

A couple of years later I learned the science that explains this difference, and it should give all of us an incentive to pick up pen and paper now and then. Generally speaking, you use different brain centers when sliding pen over paper compared to tapping away on the keyboard. Muscle control is different. Tactile sensations vary. Keyboards make sounds, and visual input is different.

As I recall, brain researchers have found that writing on paper uses a wider array of brain centers, engaging differently with memory and visions. Keyboard input may be more focused, coming from a single center, perhaps the frontal lobe.

Back to personal experience, I’ve found that I’m almost unable to make lists on a keyboard. I need pencil and paper for that. Likewise, if I’m having trouble starting a story, I can always start writing on paper. Soon enough the story concept starts to clear and I grow impatient with paper, so I switch to a keyboard. If I get stuck in the middle of a story, I stop, ask myself what am I trying to say and answer that question. Then the story flows again.

So which is better, writing by hand or keyboard? Both and neither.

Points to Ponder: How comfortable are you on the keyboard? If you still think of each letter as you type, definitely try writing by hand. Even if you do write well on the keyboard, try writing by hand. You may access different points of view or memories.

Triumph at the End of a Rocky Road

The note above shows one of a rapidly growing list that Carol B has received from family members after privately publishing a volume of family history laced together with relevant aspects of her personal story. She swells with happiness at each one. These notes are more than usually rewarding. The road to this outcome has been rocky. Her stories sizzle with intrigue. That eventually presented a problem.

Carol, her parents, and a family friend (I omit her full name at her request to protect her family’s privacy), spent decades gathering stories and documents from county records and other sources, documenting purchase and sale of property, births, deaths and marriages, police and jail records, newspaper articles and pictures. Piles and piles of pictures. She took careful notes as relatives chewed the fat at family events.  She even sought out help from her local historical society to gather added information.

Eventually she wove memories and facts into stories. Lifestory writing group members pointed out unclear areas, missing material and more. Her strong writing grew polished in both content and structure. Then forces of darkness emerged.

Her family’s history includes mayhem, madness and murder. It’s all a matter of public record, and mostly forgotten, though ripples remain in family attitudes and traits. Still, she was loathe to publish it all without warning the family. She told everyone whose names appeared in the book what she was up to and asked their permission to share stories relevant to their immediate family members. With the exception of one person within her family, she was offered nothing but support and encouragement.  She did not have anyone else read her book, as she was not willing to write a book by committee.  As it turned out, the faith that family members had in her was almost unanimous. Others showed their trust by giving full permission to use their names and their particular family stories.

However, there was one family member who, without even reading the book, objected on principle. “There is no reason to dig all that stuff up again.”  Said Person would not discuss it with Carol and did not respond to numerous requests to be named in the book, then cut off  direct communication.

Carol’s inner critic went nuts. What if I’m sued?  Maybe I’m too critical. Maybe my book is too negative.  Even if I do expose the people in my book to public scrutiny, these are the stories of my family. What should I do?

Her voice had the sound of defeat as she told me, “That person has gobs of money and can afford to sue me on a whim. Maybe that will happen. Maybe I should just drop it. Maybe I should just share the Word file with anyone who wants to read it.”

“You’ve told dozens of people you’re doing this, and they all want to see it finished. What about them? Will you be letting them down? You’ve set aside funds to see it through. How can we work around this?”

Note to readers: don’t try to handle this alone. Get plenty of perspectives. 

“Do you think I’ve been too critical?  Is my book too negative?”

“NO! But I’m not always the best judge of emotional tone. Let’s get one more opinion.” I recommended another writer I know who excels in this area. Her response was supportive. Carol regained her grip.

She decided she would proceed with the project with these caveats:

• She omitted all references to Said Person beyond a couple of picture captions where she cites the relationship without a name.  She decides to include a vintage photo of Said Person, but includes only a first initial and maiden last name.  To do otherwise would have made her uncomfortable, since she did not want to purposefully leave anyone out of the family history.  She also decided to mail Said Person a copy of the family history book. To date, there has been no acknowledgement of receipt though communication on other subjects has been resumed. 

• In the Acknowledgments she states: “I have remained faithful to the stories that were passed down through the family and relied on my own memories and those of other family members for additional tales. Throughout the process, I maintained my belief and intention to cause no harm.”

• The back cover includes a disclaimer of sorts: “… For decades she has collected stories from relatives and public records. She compiles those stories with personal reflections to tell the family’s story with truth and honesty to the best of her understanding.” 

She also firmed up her decision to keep publication as private as possible.

This last step required thinking out of the box. Carol is facing serious health problems and wants to ensure that her extended family will be able to independently order additional copies for years to come.

In line with her decision to keep the book private, she vowed to avoid all promotion and publicity. She is eager, however, for others to know of her experience, even though they won’t be reading the book. Buoyed by the outpouring of gratitude from family members, such as the note above, she has asked me to share that story, hoping to inspire others who battled doubts about sensitive disclosure to persist and find their own way around obstacles.

I’m happy to oblige, emphasizing to readers that publishing privately with limited distribution can be a strong and rewarding option for those who shy away from telling all to the world at large.

As the fan letter notes, Carol is hard at work on a second volume, a personal memoir. Will this one also be kept under wraps? Who knows? If she opts for open publication, you’ll be among the first to know.

Points to Ponder: What tense material might slow down your writing project? What creative workarounds can you come up with? Who can you turn to for support and fresh ideas?

Points to Ponder: What tense material might slow down your writing project? What creative workarounds can you come up with? Who can you turn to for support and fresh ideas?

Continuous Creative Improvement

Creative people in any field share the goal of continuous skill development. Bear with me as I loop into photography to make a point about writing.

This photo of gulls perched on the southern shore of Lake Pukaki with Mt. Cook in the distance looks great to most people. It looked great to me when I took it in 2005 en route from Christchurch to Queenstown on New Zealand's South Island. It's got most of the elements of a great picture: item of interest in foreground, sweeping vistas afar, sharp focus, clear color, contrasting tones, life contrasting with barren expanse, level horizon.

When I look at this picture, I’m brought back to the moment of crystal-clear air, vast silence broken only by screeching gulls, whispering breeze, shoes on gravel, clicking shutters, and awed murmurs from tour group friends.

It looked good when I took it, and it serves the purpose of preserving and evoking memories. But something has always bothered me about this picture. It has never seemed quite right. It lacks a clear message. Which matters most, the birds or the mountain? I’ve learned quite a bit about photo composition since I snapped this shot. I now see how to frame it better. As much as I’d like to, I can’t loop back to New Zealand for a do-over today, so I’m faking it with Photoshop.

By virtually moving to my right a few feet, I  position that rock so its left slope and the lines of the gulls lead your eye up toward Mt. Cook. The rock echoes slope shapes, lending symmetry to the shot.

That's better, but I still don't feel finished.

Using magic again, I  kneel down, holding the camera at a lower angle, narrowing the gap between birds and slopes. My sense of the scene is wide. Cropping the image enhances that effect. Less is often more. I could keep playing with this shot, but for now I've made my point.

I sometimes open a file or pull out a paper with a story I wrote a dozen or twenty years ago. I read the story and recall the moment and realize I’ve learned better ways to tell it. My fingers twitch as I read, reaching for the keyboard. I may add detail, subtract focus blurring fluff, tighten wording or add dialogue. I turn simple narrative into sizzling scene.

Another lesson from photography comes into play here. Not only has my technique improved, technology keeps improving both cameras and editing tools. Photos I edited fifteen years ago may look garish and clumsy compared to what I’m able to do today. Even today I may over-edit, ending with gaudy results. Saving edits as a new file can save the day, allowing me to start over with the original material.

The same thing can happen with stories. More than once I’ve been called out for gaudy drama in stories. Starting fresh with that earlier draft calmed things down. Earlier drafts can help flesh out related stories, and reading them again reassures me that I am continously improving.

I continuously improve my photo skills by taking classes and hanging out with photographers who know more than I do. I study the work of experts and take thousands of pictures. I improve my writing skills by reading books and blogs about writing, by reading the work of acclaimed authors, by attending workshops and conferences, by reading voraciously, and by writing, over and over, until it works.

Would I take this photo right the first time if I did go back again? Maybe. If I had time I’d take it from many angles to increase the odds. And I often write stories several ways to find the one that suits me best.

Points to Ponder: Can you look back at early stories and see how your work has progressed? What steps do you take to ensure your writing continues to improve?

Shifting Rhythms

It’s too soon to draft a  memoir about our move, but it’s not too soon to begin reflecting on my sense of things. As I sat is a glorious state of almost forgotten peace and relaxation earlier today, I realized that (speaking only for myself) we’ve entered a new phase, and not a minute too soon.

That corner was actually turned the day we were told that the photographer who would make our house look amazing on the web needed to arrive three days early. Before that I’d been in a total panicked frenzy, wondering how on earth we would ever possibly meet our self-imposed deadline for listing. But right on schedule, birds sang, bells rang, and angels descended. Only one room remained out of bounds for the photographer.

Tension drained.

Then, a few hours before we were scheduled to fly to Austin to find a house, that last room clicked into alignment, ready for showing. We flew off to Austin a few hours later. For three days we looked, well-prepared with seven months of web research. We did find a home, holding our breath until a previous negotiation fell through at exactly the right time. So we never needed our backup choices.
Once that contract was signed, life became large, calm and amazing. Pondering the shift, I noticed some similarity to a symphony. Each movement has a different rhythm and tone. So it has been with us. Our transition symphony seems to have :

Deciding to do it. This was the beginning. We’ve talked for years about relocating. Our three children are widely scattered. We can only be near one. Which one? Or maybe suit ourselves and go somewhere else? We lived in a state of paralysis by analysis for a few years. Slowly, a decision emerged from the fog.

Public announcement. We “came out” in Austin last winter at a huge party at our daughter's home. Through the course of the evening, “We’re thinking about moving here” morphed into “We’re planning to move here.” We called a real estate agent and began our search.

Big shift!

Delaying phase. We both had commitments in Pittsburgh that had to be completed. Although listing around the first of April would have been ideal, it did not work out that way. I stayed mellow and loose through this time. 

Big shift!

Pressure phase. When not much had happened around the first of May, I got nervous. I got tense, fretful, even bitchy. I lived in a state of chronic fear and anxiety, dreading the thought of yet another winter here, and even more, the loss of time to dig in down there. As much as I’ve loved the time we’ve spent here and all our friends, it’s time to go! My clock is ticking louder every day. Productive years could possibly be counted on fingers. No time to waste! Committing to a listing date amplified that pressure several fold. Then, Ta Dah! We were done.

Big shift.

Transition. From the time that final room was vacuumed through the time when we signed our offer, was an intense transition, packed into a very few days. As I said earlier, signing the contract was an enormous relief. Time to kick back for a day or two. Intense or not, it was different from the previous phase.

Packing up. That’s where we are right now. Things may not stay mellow. Pressure is sure to increase.

Projected big shift.

Moving. Driving two cars from here to there and getting all the loose ends in place at our new house is bound to be intense.

Projected big shift.

Settling in. I’m hoping that after the first few days,  settling in will be a relaxed affair. No need to rush. This will be the end of this story.

I can’t tell the story yet, but I can see the plot. I see tension arcs within each of these phases, or movements. I think I see the thread holding it all together, but that’s another post for another day.

Write now: Think of a period of time when you went through a transition. Jot down some thoughts about turning points or Big Shifts as the transition evolved. Can you map out a story along that path? It may be a large story or a shorter one. Give it a try.

A Delicious Way to Eat Your Words

Thanks to the efforts of his creative wife Vivian, on May 9 this year, about thirty people helped Don Duncan eat his words.

We were all gathered at the Whitehall Public Library in Whitehall, Pennsylvania to celebrate the conclusion of The Power of Memoir, an eight-week series of classes  that I had the pleasure of leading. Each week a dozen eager students gathered for two hours to learn a few pointers from The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. During the class, they read stories based on their assignment for the week.

Each week we had a predictably wide spectrum of stories. Some, like the one about a woman’s first date with the undertaker who became her husband, had us howling with laughter. Stories about growing up in foster care touched our hearts. We shared memories of growing up around the South Hills region of metropolitan Pittsburgh, holidays, and other aspects of life.

At the conclusion of the class, students brought their favorite stories to a Saturday morning event at the library and read them to friends, family and library patrons. Mary Kay Moran, the librarian who arranged for the class, provided a magnificent continental breakfast, and the crown jewel of the occasion was the cake you see above.

Don Duncan had read a story, “Singing Brings Joy.” His wife, Vivian, surprised everyone with the cake you see above. She knew which story he planned to read. She took the story file to her favorite grocery store’s bakery and had them print the first and last pages on special edible rice paper with edible ink. She explained that this is the same process they use to print pictures and other messages not formed with the traditional piped icing.

“You put the icing on the cake and immediately put the printed rice paper on top. If you order a cake, they’ll do this for you. I bake my own. It’s important to put the paper on as soon as you finish spreading the icing so the oils in it ‘melt’ the rice paper right into the surface. If you wait too long, it won’t react correctly, and the paper just sits on top.” She told us they’ll print anything and just charge you for the printed page, as long as you assure them no copyright violation is involved.

We enjoyed each story we heard that morning, and then we enjoyed eating Don’s.

As predictably happens with such a class, the group wanted to keep meeting to write and read together. The library agreed to provide space and Mary Kay has taken the lead to facilitate the group. I look forward to stopping by for a visit once in awhile.

I was excited to hear last week that a similar group is underway at the Community Library of Allegheny Valley in Natrona Heights north of Pittsburgh, led by Caitlin Bauer, one of the librarians there. I was especially thrilled to learn that Caitlin is using a leaders manual I prepared a couple of years ago to help libraries around the county start these groups.

I published that manual under a Creative Commons license, making it available for free for anyone who wants to start a group. I put no restrictions on its use, though I hope all groups will be open to anyone who wants to participate without restriction based on gender, etc. I do realize that organizations like Senior Centers may have age restrictions, but beyond that, in my opinion, diversity is the key to the success of these groups. So far more than a dozen groups have validated that it works.

You don’t have to be a strong or experienced writer to lead a group. The manual includes an outline for a six week workshop to get people started. Beyond that, people learn from each other. The leader’s main role is making initial arrangements and keeping people focused on their written stories rather than reminiscing during meetings.

If you are interested in starting a group, send me an email and I’ll be happy to send you the pdf file and answer any questions you may have.

Write now:  1) Be adventurous. Send for the Leaders Manual and use the suggestions for finding a location and group members. This will be one of the most rewarding things you’ll do this year. Start planning now to start a group this fall.

2) Bake a cake and let somebody eat his or her words – or yours.

Clear the Haze from Pictures and Memory

The pictures above have deep meaning for me, and I think they are likely to strike a chord with most viewers, evoking memories of their own. I want my stories to have that effect. I want readers to see themselves in my words, finding new ways to see old situations and become more fully themselves.

I recently found this left-hand picture from 1973 in a pile I was sorting through. Something in it stirred me, though haziness dimmed my response. I decided to try restoring it.

I scanned it with my Epson V600 scanner using Professional mode on the scanner interface. I used the Color Restoration tool and the Unsharp Mask tool set to high. That produced over 90% of the result you see on the right, but I wanted more. I cloned out spots on the pillow and sharpened the picture a bit more. Then I added a warming yellowish tone to approximate the wall color I recall.

The crisp, haze-free result makes me feel like I’m “back in the picture,” especially when I view it full size and zoom in on details.

I used an ancient version of Photoshop for this, but Paint.net does almost as much as Photoshop and it’s free. Picasa, another popular free choice, is easy to use. Most scanners should have some semblance of the  Epson’s capability. My husband’s 12-year-old Epson can do this, just not as fast.

Once I got a clear view of the photo, I sat with it until I sank into the feeling of having those tots around full time, and gratitude I felt. I thought about how different they were from each other. I looked at our clothing and recalled the joy of sewing. George is on the left. I made his jeans. I made Susan’s to match one I made for myself. I made John’s trendy fake vest shirt. Sewing with knits was big in the seventies. I’m surprised to realize that my shirt and pants both came from stores. Nearly everything in my closet was my own creation.

I remembered the challenge of reupholstering the tattered Goodwill sectional my mom was tired of. Fake animal fur was affordable and trendy. It was a perfect fit for the shag rug in our brand-new home. When we bought new living room furniture, this old stuff went down to the family room. On the right side you see the crewel embroidery project I was working on. That huge picture perfectly matched the carpeting. I put it away years ago. I may rehang it yet.

Oh, the hair – where did it all go? This was my Involved Earth Mother phase: PTO, League of Women Voters, Republican Women, bridge club and more.  I also recalled feeling overwhelmed at times, and wondering just where I fit into the larger scheme of things. Mostly it was a time of settling into house and community and keeping those lively youngsters and their daddy fed, clothed and happy.

I made a list of memories I can use in stories spawned by that picture:

• Shag rug: hard to live with! Vacuuming flattened it, and I used a garden rake to restore it to fluffiness. Needless to say, I did not do that on a daily basis.
• Bare feet. I lived in bare feet in the house. I still do in the summer.
• Making things. I loved crafting enhancements for our home. Repurposing “found objects” was my specialty. I hope to get back to that soon when we move into another new-to-us home.
• Informality: Our life style was and still is informal. What you see there is no formal pose. It’s typical.

The list goes on, but you get the idea.

My final thought is that stories are like that these pictures. I liken the left one to an early draft. A robust round of editing clears the haze, letting the story shine through. A few more tweaks enhance detail. The final version conveys the sense of the situation so well that readers feel “in the picture,” much as I do with the finished version on the right.

Write now: Find an old picture that’s hazy and indistinct. Play with settings on your scanner and use Paint.net or Picasa to touch it up. Zoom in on details in the finished result and look for stories everywhere.

Seven Secrets about Writing

Ian Mathie, my Scottish/African writing buddy, recently tagged me on Facebook to share seven secrets about writing. I accept this challenge as great sport, and following Janet Givens’ example in her response to Ian, I’m  posting my reply here as the path to Facebook.

Secret #1: Writing is fun!
That is, it’s fun if you write about happy memories and ideas and send your inner critic to her room. Write with color. Write outside your usual boundaries. Write with attitude and guts. More guidelines here.

Secret #2: Writing can be painful.
Dark memories can be searing to write about when they cause you to relive past pain. You may wonder why anyone subjects themselves to this torture. They do it because …

Secret #3: Writing can be healing.
The simple process of dumping that cauldron of trauma onto the page lets you see things in new light and from new perspectives. Memory fragments coalesce into coherent story. Making sense of chaos settles your mind and paves the way for healing your heart. More about this here and here.

Secret #4: Writing builds bonds
in so many ways. Sharing stories around campfires built strong tribal bonds in ancient times. Today our campfire may be blogs and Facebook or email, but the well-written tale still builds bonds of friendship and support. Sharing your lifestory with friends and family builds bonds between generations. Participating in a writing group or class builds bonds of understanding and empathy among members. The more you share, the easier it gets and the more you want to continue.

Secret #5: Writing great imagery adds color and spice to your world.
"His voice is low and soft, a piece of silk you might keep in a drawer and pull out only on rare occasions, just to feel it between your fingers. She reaches into space, and a cool bird-boned hand takes hers."

When I read that rich imagery in Anthony Doerr’s novel All the Light We Cannot See, I quivered with delight. Doerr inspires me to stretch even further to find new ways to express what I experience and imagine. My experience of my world becomes a bit larger. My creativity is enhanced by his, and will hopefully inspire others in turn.

Secret #6: Writing is 90% editing.
It doesn’t have to be. Spontaneous outpourings serve a purpose, but even text messages might be more effective with another few seconds of thought. Witness the fun on DamnYouAutoCorrect.com. Writing like Anthony Doerr’s cited above takes years of practice and perceptual growth as well as hundreds of hours of editing. I find the time I spend editing and imagining new ways of expressing my thoughts a source of deep pleasure. 

Secret #7: Writing doesn’t always involve moving your fingers.
I practice writing much of the time. I search for metaphors for sunset. I look for imagery to describe the dinner table daffodil. I consider what I really want to say in a blog post while I’m raking leaves. Some of my best writing comes to me while I’m in the shower or driving down the road.

Write now: Take up this challenge yourself and jot down seven of your own discoveries or secrets about writing. Post one or more in a comment.

How and Why to Write about JOY

This advice to talk about our joys struck home with me when I saw it the other day. Not surprisingly, I immediately thought how it applies to writing – specifically to life writing – and how happy stories spread joy.

In The Heart and Craft of Lifewriting, I discuss the way many people tend to shy away from discussing success and joy.

“I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging,” some people say. “I don’t people to envy me,” or “I don’t want them to think I think I’m better than they are,” or “I don’t want to make people sad because they missed out.”

These are valid concerns. Compassion for the feelings of others is important. But let’s look at the flip side, at what is lost if you soft-peddle success and happiness:

You are only writing part of your truth. If you are writing for posterity, or for the world at large right now, your success is part of who you are. Surely it’s something you’re proud of. Let them know.

Happiness keeps your story authentic. People who know you’ve achieved something, financial or business success, a happy marriage, or some other positive state will know something’s missing if you downplay the sunshine in your story. It tends to come across as false humility and lack of trust. This is, of course, assuming you were happy. Not all stories are, though we do hope for a glimmer of happiness by the end. Add it where you can.

Reading about how you achieved success, happiness and joy inspires others. We hear and read about gloom, doom and suffering constantly in the media. We need to hear good news. It gives us hope!

People can learn from your example. Explaining in more detail or less how you managed to achieve your fortunate condition may provide a clue for others to follow your example.

Writing about happy things is good for YOU! A quick web search will verify that simple lists in gratitude journals help dispel or fend off depression (in at least some cases) and generally improve your state of mind. They help you stay positive and foster creativity. You don’t even have to share the contents or turn them into story to get these benefits.

Have I convinced you to write some joy? Hopefully into your story? Follow these guidelines:

Include shadows with the sunshine. Everything brilliant emerges from some sort of struggle or stretch. Tell of the tribulations and challenges you encountered along the way. Report feelings of fear, doubt, or dismay. Don’t leave out your concern about not wanting to brag.

Be honest about jubiliation. Who would believe you weren’t popping champagne corks, real or figurative, when you got that big promotion?

Give credit where credit is due. Nobody scales Mt. Everest without a team of Sherpas. Give your Sherpas credit.

Use humor. Poke fun at yourself. This doesn’t mean putting yourself down, but keep both heart and fingers light.

My latest book, Adventures of a  Chilehead, is the story of my life-long love affair with hot chile. It’s full of humor and joy, and I had a ball writing it. The capsaicin in chile releases endorphins. Writing about those happy memories released more. So remember some joy, write yourself happy, and share that good stuff with the world.

Write now: write about a happy experience you shared with at least one other person and write that story in an email or letter. Send it to that person. You’ll both feel happy you did.

New Years Resolutions

Happy New Year!

I spent considerable time crafting general writing resolutions (in no particular order) that I feel able to keep, but will also push me a bit. I invite you to shamelessly steal any or all that appeal to you.

Some of my underlying thoughts:

PRIMARY INTENTION: I want the concept of lighting a candle in the darkness to underlie everything I write. This is the first year I’ve stated a primary intention. It feels right write.

Write what I want when I am ready. The emphasis here is on when. 2015 promises to be a challenging year of transition, and more than ever, I shall follow whatever schedule works, for writing in general and for writing blog posts. You may see large gaps this year, but no problem. I don’t flatter myself that you can’t face a week without reading a post from me.

Take as long as it takes to write it right. I’ve seen too many people make themselves crazy and produce less than their best work because they set an unrealistic deadline to publish, whether for the public or private distribution. I have that t-shirt in my drawer. Honor your writing and don’t do this to yourself.

Write something every day. No, grocery lists do not count, but a carefully crafted email with more than a paragraph does. Speaking of which, email is a good chance to practice being articulate and organized in presenting your thoughts. While it’s true that urgency may rule at times, take care that you’ve made yourself clear and fix egregious errors, especially those introduced by autocorrect.

Play with words. I’ve written so much about this. Write yourself out of your rut. Constantly think of new and fun ways to express yourself. This resolution links to Write it colorful and considering every angle.

Gorge on rich reading. Let everything you read serve as a self-directed writing workshop. Read once for the story and review to explore structure behind the magic. Make notes to nail those insights, then review the book, for your benefit as well as the author’s.

Share lots of stories informally. Gather a group of people who appreciate your writing and send stories around. Encourage their comments, good, bad and indifferent. You’ll learn a lot and they’ll enjoy the reads. Don’t limit yourself to just writers. All readers count.

Write it real. This thought goes beyond sticking to the facts. I’m reminding myself to include sensory detail, character quirks, self-talk, and those other elements that breathe life into scenes, real or imagined.

Check everything five times. This advice goes beyond checking spelling and grammar. My inbox overflows with emails describing sign bloopers, i.e. “Persons are prevented from picking flowers from any but their own graves.”

 Consider every angle. This advice is especially helpful for lifestory writers. You may be amazed when you consider how others may have viewed a situation or why they may have done what they did. These insights can be life changers.

Sign your name! to cement ownership and intention.

I wish for you a year filled with gratifying results from your writing, whenever, however you do it, with whomever you share.

Write now: make your own list of writing resolutions if you haven’t yet done so. I strongly urge you to do this on paper – pixels are okay if you use a stylus as I did. I’m partial to the Papyrus android app for such projects, partly because my markers have dried up and I like to use lots of color. The idea is to involve brain centers and muscles that add personal value to the writing process.

Kumi What?

Kumihimo is a Japanese form of braid-making. Cords and ribbons are made by interlacing strands. Kumi himo is Japanese for "gathered threads". – Wikipedia.

I first learned of kumihimo when I stopped to visit a craft-klatch group that met each morning in a lounge on the ship while I was crossing the Atlantic last month. I had no idea at the time that those few minutes started me on a loop leading to deeper insight into writing and creativity in general.

One woman in that group held a circular foam disk with strings of beads hanging around it and a thick beaded cord emerging below from a hole in the center. As she methodically moved strands back and forth across the disk, the cord grew longer. I was fascinated. I want to do this! It looks so simple!

As soon as I got home, I plunged into a sea of YouTube tutorials and was instantly hooked. I made a disk from a stray scrap of foam board, snipped off eight lengths of red cord, and began braiding. Sure enough, basic kumihimo is simple. My first project was a cord to replace the tacky ribbon holding a beautiful glass pendant I bought from a street vendor in Rome. Then I returned to YouTube for further inspiration.

YouTube videos are mental popcorn. Sidebar suggestions are addictive, and so is creative action. One video led to another, from Kumihimo projects to soda straw weaving, to paper tube baskets, to paper beads, to hammered wire craft.... Oh my! So many beautiful things to make! That mental popcorn was exploding. Where should I start? Transform worn storage boxes with fake forged metal finish? Braid another necklace? Make paper beads? Dig out denim scraps for a jacket? Maybe stop and clean house? I was paralyzed by possibility.

After a good night’s sleep, I realized that I’d gotten more than project ideas from those hours on YouTube. I picked up new understanding and skills. They showed me how I could decorated those aging storage boxes more durably. I didn’t know to base coat the cardboard. I didn’t know about using old credit cards to spread glue smoothly or about sealers for the paper I used. When I do tackle those new projects, I’ll be better prepared.

In the dawn’s early light I realized that creativity knows no bounds, and changing channels can recharge energy all around. After switching from writing to creative channels with more physical involvement and nonverbal imagery, I see writing with fresh eyes. I see a connection between the tutorials I just binged on and all the writing-related blogs posts and books I’ve read, podcasts I’ve listened to and classes I’ve taken. Just as I discovered new ways to braid and make jewelry, use the tools I already have, durably decorate boxes and more crafty tips, over time I’ve accumulated piles of writing tools and learned to use them.

Now I see that my YouTube journey into crafting has been a perfect sidetrack, jolting me out of mental ruts, exposing me to new ideas, and showing me new skills and tools. Best of all, these videos reminded me of a part of The Story of Me I’ve neglected and miss. Last post I suggested we all make Happiness lists. I’d forgotten how happy I feel when I’m making things. Finally, it all circles back to writing. This post is a trip journal of sorts, adding more depth and meaning to my crafty discoveries.

Write now: If you are distracted this month with holiday preparations, relax into them. Savor them. Enjoy the season. Make a few notes and process it all on the page in a few weeks. Hopefully you too will find fresh perspectives and inspiration. If you have time, do something unusual and creative. Bake Christmas cookies. Make a couple of gifts or decorations. Let this creativity fuel your writing later.

Memoir as Training Wheels

Mary Gottschalk has proven her versatility as a writer by crafting a highly acclaimed  memoir, Sailing Down the Moonbeam, followed by a novel, A Fitting Place. Both volumes are gutsy stories, and in this guest post Mary explains how writing the memoir prepared her for the challenge of switching to fiction.

Memoir as Training Wheels

Writerly skills are for naught unless you have something you want to write about.

The story behind my memoir—a mid-life coming-of-age experience after I left a successful career to sail around the world at age 40—had steeped in my brain for two decades before I put pen to paper. Not once, in all those years, did the possibility of writing a novel ever occur to me.

But as the memoir evolved and my writing skills improved, I began to see that “the story” was much bigger than “my story.” Sailing across the Pacific Ocean struck me a metaphor for life: you can’t control your environment, the route is not well marked, and you often end up someplace other than where you set out to go. The core lesson of that voyage was that you learn the most when you step outside your comfort zone.

Suddenly I had a story with almost infinite variations. I itched to explore them. Voilà, my first novel about a woman who never leaves home, but is thrust out of her comfort zone when she is betrayed by those she trusts most. It is my first novel, but it will not be my last.

Learning the Writerly Craft

I often think of my memoir as the literary equivalent of training wheels.

With a memoir, the task is far more manageable than with a novel, where every element—story arc, characters, plot points, scenes, point of view—is in flux until “THE END.” With an infinite number of possible events and characters from which to choose, even an experienced writer can have trouble discerning whether a problem lies in the writing, in the story arc and structure, in the pace, in the mix of characters, or some combination of them all. For an inexperienced writer, sorting it out can seem all but impossible.

By contrast, the outer boundaries of my memoir were established long before the first word hit the page. I knew where the story began and ended, who the players were and what role they played. The plot points and scenes were constrained by reality. My job, as author was to connect the dots, not make them up.

Connecting the dots was certainly not enough to guarantee a good memoir. If you believe, as I do, that a well-written memoir should read like fiction, I needed to have much the same set of writerly skills as a novelist. As a neophyte, I was missing many of them when I started out. In retrospect, one of the great advantages of starting out with a memoir was that when things weren’t going right, there were fewer things to be fixed.

As a memoirist, I couldn’t change the trajectory of events, so I had to focus on doing a better job of building tension and establishing cause and effect within the existing storyline. I learned, by trial and error, to recognize which events moved the story forward. I discovered how it felt when my story began to unfold organically. I learned that ruthlessly cutting out events that serve no plot purpose could heighten the emotional truth of the story, with little damage to factual accuracy.

Similarly, I couldn’t create new scenes or new characters out of whole cloth. All I could do was focus on re-writing those that were flat, on learning how to make them come alive, on using them more effectively to carry the plot forward. My focus was on mastering the art of showing vs. telling, on finding the right balance between dialogue and narrative. I learned that what I didn’t say often had as much dramatic potential as what I did say.

Throughout the often painful process of repairing crippled parts of the story, it was easier to push forward, knowing that I had a clear idea of what I wanted the story to look like when it was complete. By the time I began my novel, I had developed solid skills in constructing a story arc, both for the book as a whole and for each chapter along the way. I knew how to use dialogue and develop my characters through judicious use of scenes. I still had a lot to learn, but completing the memoir gave me the confidence to attack one problem at a time, to avoid being overwhelmed by the enormity of the task.

The memoir served as my training wheels. Without it, there never could have been a novel.

Bio

Mary has made a career out of changing careers. After finishing graduate school, she spent nearly thirty years in the financial markets, first in New York, then in New Zealand and Australia, eventually returning to the U.S.

Along the way, she dropped out several times. In the mid-80's, at age 40, Mary and her husband Tom embarked on the three-year sailing voyage that is the subject of her memoir, Sailing Down the Moonbeam. When the voyage ended, she returned to her career in finance, but dropped out again to provide financial and strategic planning services to the nonprofit community. In her latest incarnation, she is a full time writer. Her first novel, A Fitting Place, was released May 1, 2014.

Find A Fitting Place on Amazon and iBooks.

Social Media Links

http://marycgottschalk.comhttp://twitter.com/marycgottschalk
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http://www.facebook.com/MaryGottschalkWriter
http://www.linkedin.com/in/marygottschalk/
https://plus.google.com/u/0/105973496280247274228/posts

Writing Lessons from Photography

Last winter I had the privilege of participating in a Road Scholar nature photography program in Costa Rica. Although I was raised in a family of photographers, I never wanted to make the effort to learn about f-stops, shutter speeds and all that good stuff. That didn’t change with the advent of digital a dozen years ago. I’ve been happy with my point-and-shoot pictures, often augmented by Photoshop enhancement later. So my plan was to tag along, see Costa Rica, meet some new friends, and fly under the radar as far as learning was concerned.

What a surprise when our brilliant photography coach, Mónica Quesada, presented some simple concepts so clearly that she hooked me in. This is easy enough. I might as well try this. Who knows? By the end of the trip, between Monica’s encouragement and supportive group members, I’d made a breakthrough. I was by-passing the auto setting and flipping through various combinations of aperture, shutter speed and ISO settings like I knew what I was doing (and I sort of did), .

As the week progressed, I realized how many similarities there are between photography and writing. For whatever it may be worth, I share them with you here, and invite you to click through my favorite shots in my Costa Rica Flickr collection for further visual illustration.

Focus on the main topic. Keep background information vague for sharp contrast so the main topic stands out. In the photo above, the golden orb spider and her web are crisply focused. If the background was in focus, that web would be lost in the detail. Give plenty of crisp detail about the main topic and character, minimizing detail about less important elements.

Background serves a purpose. That blurry background plays an important role. Indistinct as it is, the swirls of color set off both spider and web. In a story, background information gives your story context and gives readers a sense of connection. You’ll know you need to add more if early readers ask questions like “Who was he?” or “What was your uncle’s name.” “When did you go there?” And so forth.

Compose the shot carefully. That spider is the central focus, but offset just a bit for interest. The lines of the web draw the eye toward the spider, and the white dots add a bit of sub-theme, also leading to the spider.

Include contrast. That sharply focused, somewhat darker spider contrasts clearly with the background, making it stand out. Shadows in the blurry background add depth and pattern. Stories without a bit of darkness seem flat and dull. 

That early thought about being happy with my point-and-shoot camera also relates to writing. For years my sit down and write a story the way I’d write a letter seemed entirely satisfactory to me. And it is. For most purposes. I still urge people to focus on quantity rather than quality if their purpose is documentary writing. In my case, over time, I began learning new ways to organize stories and tweak them. I’m hooked. I hope I’ll always keep learning new techniques, new ways of looking at story and refining it. The end result may be more pleasing to readers and convey my points more crisply, but for me, the pleasure is in the process and craft. I love the challenge.

Photography isn’t the only way to expand creativity and perspective and learn more about writing. Scads of writers also paint. Natalie Goldberg’s newest book, Living Color: Painting, Writing and the Bones of Seeing is all about the relationship between visual expression and writing. Do yourself a favor and try some alternate modes yourself.

Write now: Read at least the “Look Inside” part of Living Color, then find paper and pen (pencil is too tempting to erase) and use her concepts to make a few sketches. Consider how you look at your surroundings differently when you consider drawing them. How does this relate to the way you look and see when you plan to write.

Thoughts on the Writing Process

Today’s post is part of a group effort. Last week in a guest post on Linda Austin's blog, Moonbridgebooks.com, I was invited by Mary Gottschalk, author of the memoir, Sailing Down the Moonbeam and a forthcoming novel to join a collective discussion on personal aspects of the writing processes. I found the questions useful in clarifying my thoughts on this matter and urge all writers to do likewise.

1) What am I working on?

I’m dabbling in flash memoir. I’ve spent the last few months intensively studying techniques for evoking emotion in readers, and one key concept that snapped sharply into focus is the need for laser precision in determining what details to include in any story. Flash memoir is a perfect vehicle for practicing focus. Soon I plan to write more about my experience as a square peg in a round hole world.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?

My most recent published project, Adventures of a Chilehead, differs in one significant way: it’s a mini-memoir, far shorter than most published memoirs, and it includes a slew of recipes that explain process rather than relying on set formulas. I kept the memoir part purposely short because I wanted to focus exclusively on my life-long love affair with hot chile, showing its origins and the evolution of this evolving relationship. I did not want to dilute that focus by including “padding” material. I said what there was to say and called it a book.

I write more instructional material than memoir, distinguished by combining a bit of humor and conversational tone with clearly defined, step-by-step instructions with more information on technology than others include.

3) Why do I write what I do?

I write memoir primarily for family and friends. I write these stories as a legacy of personal history, to entertain my  readers, and to clarify my thoughts about the past and what it means.

I write instructional material because learning is more rewarding when shared with others. My main metaphor for  life is that of a wilderness explorer who later leads others on a tour. Few things are as rewarding to me as helping others become stronger writers.

4) How does my wiring process work?

Different ways on different days! In the first chapter of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing I emphasize the importance of finding your own best work style for writing. In her fantastically helpful book, The Plot Whisperer, Martha Alderson uses the terms "plotters and pantsers." Plotters plan everything out before writing. Pantsers write intuitively, "by the seat of their pants."

I'm primarily a pantser, forming a rough idea what I have to say, dumping my thoughts onto paper and organizing them later. Sometimes I'll begin jotting key concepts on paper, but always turn to the keyboard before finishing half my list. Writing by hand works well to unjam my thoughts, but need keyboard speed to let them run free.

Once I get that draft on the page, I edit like a fiend, questioning every word. Typical questions I ask myself include:

• How can I streamline this?
• How else can I describe or say this?
• Does this detail add to the story or do I just love it?
• What else does the reader need to know?
• Is this the best place to say that/

If I plan to publish it, the story (or book) goes out to beta readers. After I get their input, I start editing again. Usually life intervenes and two or three months pass before I get to final publication. By then the material is cold enough it seems new again, and I do another round of tough edits. Last week I shared a flash memoir with an online writing group. I kept track of the number of times I resaved the pdf version: 43 at last count. The story has 482 words. That's pretty typical

Write now: take some time and answer these four questions for yourself. You may be surprised what you learn. If you have a blog and decide to post your responses on it, please link back.

Memoir with Recipes

Although few things bond people like food and sharing recipes, I didn’t intend to include recipes in my mini-memoir, Adventures of a Chilehead, for several reasons:

1) Some of the stories are set in restaurants and I couldn’t include recipes for those.
2) Recipes for things like frijoles, chile con carne and enchiladas are easily found on the web.
3) When I cook, I use recipes as mere suggestions and cook by the seat of my pants based mostly on what’s in the kitchen at any given time. How do you write recipes for that?
4) Some ingredients, like chile powder, are unreliable in strength.

The finished book bears the subtitle “A Mini-Memoir with Recipes.” Obviously I changed my mind, primarily because most people who read early versions of the manuscript told me they wanted recipes. Since I value their input, I accepted their inspiration and set about writing creative recipes for food the way I make it. The way I make it varies from one time to the next so in addition to the standard list of ingredients and preparation steps, I had to include variations.

That resulted in long, involved instructions that explain a process rather than serving as a formula, but once I got started, thinking through all the factors involved turned out to be fun. In fact, it gave me a reason to make those dishes a time or two to be sure I had not missed anything, so we had lots of yummy dinners.

I explained things like where to buy good chile powder (perhaps online). Chile quality and potency is fickle, so I had to explain how to test the heat level of a new batch, and how to adjust recipes to individual tolerance levels. The recipe for homemade corn tortillas is over three pages long and gives guidelines for when it’s not worth making them as well as what brand of masa you’ll do well to avoid, and how to use grocery bags to simplify rolling or pressing them flat.

Most memoirs that include recipes put a single recipe at the end of each chapter. For example, Ruth Reichl’s Tender at the Bone and Judith Newton’s Tasting Home follow this pattern. Since some of my stories take place in restaurants or feature hot pepper sauce, and some stories spin off three or four recipes, it didn’t make sense to put them with the chapters. Besides, the length of the recipes would interrupt the flow of the stories.

Once I got rolling with the first few, I was having so much fun that I added many more favorites. Over half the recipes in the final list are not mentioned in the memoir section.

I’ve received a pile of emails from happy readers who have tried recipes with good success, and my family is delighted to have those recipes they grew up with documented for all time.

You don’t have to write an entire memoir, mini or full-length, to write about recipes. Next time you share a recipe, take the time to tell the history of the recipe, including some favorite memories, to go with it. Sharing its story builds the sort of bond I write about in the last chapter of Chilehead when I tell of feeling a link with centuries of women who have prepared chile for their families.

Write now: select one of your favorite recipes, perhaps one that has been handed down in your family, and write a story about how you came to have the recipe and memorable occasions when it has been served by you or others.

The Book I Wish I’d Written (and May Yet)

What greater praise can an author give a book than to say “This is the book I wish I’d written!”? That’s the praise I heap onto Marion Roach Smith’s book, The Memoir Project: A Thoroughly Non-standardized Text for Writing & Life. How can I count the ways I admire this book? I’ll list a few:

1) She had me laughing the whole way through. Her rainbow of material covers the tragi-comic spectrum, but even the tragic has an amusing twist. I adore her off-the-wall humor and perspective. She nudges me to look at life from even more corners.

2) She walks her talk. She constantly illustrates her key point of writing with intention (that being focus at the closest range) by using short annotated clips of her own material. Many of these are items that have never fit anywhere else and finally found a home in this volume. Quite amazingly, she sticks to the point so tightly that she covers her material a mere 112 power-packed pages.

She also holds to a a primary tenet of memoir by closely framing her material and not attempting to cover the full gamut of all aspects of the writing process. She sticks to finding your story and framing it sparely, making every word count.

3) She brings fresh perspective to key points I hold dear. We both urge people to use small cards to collect story ideas. We both urge all writers to carry writer’s notebooks to record those ephemeral observations, thoughts and other gifts of the muse that are fragile and fleeting as soap bubbles. We both firmly hold the belief that there is no right way to write, although she’s a bit firmer on urging people to stay in one place and I tend to wander.

4) She has cleverly disguised a memoir. In my opinion, this book is at least as much memoir as instruction. It’s an ideal combination of using snips of life experience to illustrate writing principles. Her entire approach simply oozes with creativity.

5) She eschews writing prompts. I always read and admire them in other books, but use them only when they ring my bell to write something real. But wait. I do benefit from briefly considering whether they work for me. So I’ll stick with Write now: prompts on at the end of each post on this blog. I’m quite sure most readers use them as thought ticklers and suggestions and seldom actually write.

6) “What’s this about?” I can’t cite a page or copy in a quote, but this key question seems to permeate the material and is a key take-away focus for me. It’s not a new idea. I’ve included some version of this concept in a pile of previous posts. But the fresh emphasis is timely and the key to the tight focus she propounds.

I initially waited months after requesting a copy of this book from the county library system. When it finally arrived, I read a couple of chapters, then returned it and ordered my own print copy. This is a book I want to refer back to. It’s a book I want to wave in front of groups and quote from. It’s soft and feels good in my hands.

In the final analysis, I realize our two books complement one another well. We take rather different perspectives and cover different ranges of material. On balance, hers has more heart focus, mine more craft. So I suggest that if you already have a copy of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, you absolutely want to place The Memoir Project on the shelf right next to it. If you don’t have either one, order both!

Meanwhile, visit her website and subscribe to her excellent weekly blog.

Write now: leave a comment if you’ve read this book and tell us what you especially like about it. Or write a comment about how you use scraps and snippets of memory that don’t fit longer stories. Write a vignette about such a memory.