Getting Traction

Anyone can lose traction on a writing project. Anyone. Maybe a few ancient veterans of the writing world have developed immunity, but the other 99% of us, yes, that includes me, can lose our way (a version of that dreaded malady writer's block).

I’m surprised to find myself in this state right now. In mid-April I attended the Story Circle writing conference held here in Austin every two years and came home wired to write. Unavoidable distractions kept me away from my keyboard for several days and that flame began to wane.

My main, get-it-done-ASAP project was and is a rewrite of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, which sold out three print runs and has been left to rest in peace (you can still order used copies via Amazon). I did make a strong start on the new version for a couple of weeks.

Then a fantastic series of webinars on hosting online courses intervened. More than a dozen compelling videos were posted, but only for several days, so that soared to the top of my list. Each session or replay lasted nearly two hours not counting time for making notes and checking things out. More distraction. New ideas on courses (I hope you’ll be able to benefit from one of those late this year or early next) and additional ideas for the rewrite gushed forth as I watched. I felt highly creative. But ...

I was not writing!

So here I am today ...

• Weeding my garden. 
• Talking to neighbors.
• Folding piles of laundry. 
• Making salad for a family celebration. 
• Answering email. 
• Cleaning the shower.
• Writing this long-overdue blog post.
• Looking longingly at a tall stack of books to be read.
• Stopping to wrap and freeze yesterday’s chicken parts.
• Making fresh coffee.
• Contemplating my mending pile. 
• Rethinking shelf design for my office. 
• Feeling lost and overwhelmed!

I can fix this. I can get out of this sand trap and regain traction. Here’s my thumbnail plan for getting my wheels moving down a solid road:

• Spend ten minutes free writing about why I’m avoiding my project. Yes, I know the reasons, but writing makes thinking visible and seeing it on the page makes it real. Those obstacles become more manageable when I actually see them. (I just checked that off. You see the resulting list).
• Keep my Work In Progress (WIP) document open when I leave my computer and make sure it’s the only window visible  to minimize distractions.
• Create a prioritized ToDo list, including at least half an hour of writing every day! I can get a lot done in half an hour — if I know that’s enough.
• Apply the Swiss Cheese technique to write manageable chunks in those 30 minute windows. I slid into that sand trap when I allowed a much larger project concept to overwhelm me.
• Make and hang a small poster behind my computer to remind myself to write now, edit later. (Uhm, is this another distraction? More avoidance behavior? Perhaps ...)
• Make a separate list of random thoughts about all phases of my WIP.
• Keep a notepad handy for capturing thoughts while I fold laundry, weed, etc.
• Keep selected people posted about my progress. They'll keep my feet to the fire and help me stay on track. 

None of these are new ideas. All are included in the original book, and I've blogged about each many times. You may know and use several yourself, but sometimes we all need a whack on the side of the head to get back to basics, use what we know, and

WRITE ON! 

I must also mention that other things surfaced in that freewrite involving my Inner Critic and other dark things. But that's another story for another post. Points I included here are enough to hold the others at bay.

Now, I feel so much better for (a) having written this post and (b) having a plan. I’m inching ahead. This book revision has turned into a total rewrite, not just an edit, so it’s different only in content from a lifestory or memoir project. The process is the same. My tips will work for you. Give them a try and let me know how it goes. Send me an email or leave a comment. That will help you stay on track once you get those wheels moving.

Thoughts to ponder: What is keeping you from steaming strongly ahead on your WIP? Or from starting one? Which if the tips above might help you? 

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?

In Defense of Surface Writing

In her new book, The Art of Memoir, author Mary Karr repeatedly urges readers to dig deep to discover their true story. As a disclaimer, I’m not digging back into the volume to discuss it. This post is based on what I perceived, understood, and remember, not her specific words. My perception is my reality, my truth. If that varies from literal words in the book, that’s how memory works, and that’s part of my point.

Karr, along with countless others, myself included, have continually made the point that as you begin to edit and refine your initial story and reflect about what really did happen, how else you might look at the past, how else might you tell it, your story changes. In fact, you reconstruct history. Some give the impression that this reconstruction conveys our true essence and is truer than our initial understanding or viewpoint, no matter how long we held it.

As I read Karr’s thoughts on this reconstruction, I was overwhelmed with the certainty that these “deeper truths” are no truer than the ones we’ve lived with, perhaps for decades. Our lives may be richer for reaching them, but they NOT MORE TRUE.

What you remember on the surface is your story, the story that made you who you are. You may derive enormous personal benefit and change your life by digging, archeologist-style, into your past, but that does not diminish the personal validity of your original insights and belief, your original truth.

Early drafts of your story convey a sense of who you have been. When you begin crafting and editing that story, it remains true, but continues to develop. You continue to develop and grow. Deep reflection and insight can shape and reflect who you become. New information can change how we view the past, but it can’t change how we thought and felt before we turned that corner. We are, after all, works in progress, continually evolving as we travel life’s path, and stories change even for those who never write.

Memories do tend to morph over time. Read an old journal if you need examples. Just keep in mind that their initial form is as true and valid as whatever form they eventually take.

I bring this up in the hope that nobody will be deterred from writing or sharing stories for fear they have not dug deeply enough or their story may not be true enough on the first or second draft to be deemed “worthy” of writing or being read. I hope nobody will be deterred from writing at least a few stories from the certainty they’ll never have the time, skill or motivation to polish it to perfection.

Enough of that Inner Critic talk! All stories are worthy of writing and sharing. Furthermore, no matter how well-developed and polished, or how loudly your supporters cheer, not all will appeal to a million people. So whatever your level of skill, motivation and resources, don’t hesitate to write yours.

Do you find this concept startling, that truth can be defined on multiple levels? Do you agree? What are your thoughts and experiences? I welcome and encourage comments on all facets of this topic. Please join the discussion.

What Is TRUTH?

Nine years ago as I pulled together the material that became The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, I thought I knew the answer to that question, what is truth: It's what really happened, or what you really think. It's basic honesty, plain and simple. Everybody knows that, right?

That's a good starting point, but as I've learned since then, that's both incomplete and misleading. Some of my increased understanding is old news, things I knew that had not integrated into my cluster of life writing neurons. Meanwhile, advances in the study of memory continue to deepen understanding. These discoveries have profound  relevance for life writers. Here's a list of a few evolving insights worth sharing:

Memory is fallible. Contrary to what you probably heard in psychology class, self-help seminars, and various other places, you do not remember every minute detail of every sensation that ever entered your brain. Recent evidence shows that incoming data is filtered, scrubbed and consolidated. Irrelevant material is unlikely to be retained. Furthermore, our brains often mistake vivid mental images for fact, embedding them as memory.

Memory morphs. Research shows that each time you recall an event or thought, current circumstances and thought become enmeshed in the memory, and the initial memory may become buried in debris over time. Compare this to your story files on disk. You may save your initial draft. Then you edit and save again. You may repeat that process twenty times, perhaps changing only a word or two each time you read. Five years later, if you had a copy of that original draft, you may not recognize it as the same story. But you didn't save the original, so there's now way to know.

Perception is personal and situational. In 1978 I grew sick of my long, hippie hair. I was enrolled in an off-campus graduate program at Central Washington U at the time, and made the hundred mile drive to the Ellensburg campus every couple of weeks. One day I left early and stopped at a hair salon before a lunch date with my mentor. Although I felt foxy as heck with my sleek new bob, I could barely see beyond a new fringe of bangs invading my view. My next stop was the library. When I stepped up to the checkout desk, I heard a man say, "Oh, my GOD!" A bomb exploded in my self-absorbed brain. Could my hair be that bad? I swung around and saw him gaping at a document.

Truth is relative. This perspective is based on the one above. In my essay, Mayhem at Camp RYLA, I cite the example of a young woman who worked as a bank teller and was held up at gunpoint a few months earlier. Shots were fired, though not at her. During a simulated crime at Camp RYLA, she saw an object held at arms' length, pointed in her direction. Not only did she tearfully swear under oath at the mock trial that a gun had been pointed at her, but that she'd heard a shot. That belief was so strong and true for her that she went into near meltdown at the revelation the "gun" had been a plastic water pistol.

Truth is situational and sometimes inconsistent. Victims of abuse often testify to this. "I loved him," they claim, years after they got brave enough to leave. "I really loved him. And I hated him when he beat me. Sometimes I wished he was dead." Those feelings, those truths, can exist side-by-side for decades.

So, you see, although I don't deny the existence of universal truths like the power of love, story truth is fuzzy, fleeting and personal.Write your story the way you see it, the way it's real and true to you. If you find truth changing as you write, consider yourself blessed.

Write now: Make a list of beliefs about what you hold true. Jot down a few examples of each. Then ask yourself Byron Katie's question, "Is this really, really true?" and "How do I know it's true?" You may be surprised by what you learn.

Monkeys, Jackasses and Wispy Mist

In her blog post, “Jackasses & Monkeys – Inner demons of writing,” Carol Bodensteiner reveals that her inner writing demons take the form of monkeys. She expresses relief on learning that others, such as Kimberly  Brock, have similar problems. In my opinion, Kimberly’s challenge is worse. She is beset by Jackasses.

Carol invited readers to share their experiences. I also have demons, as I believe we all do. Like Carol, I battle monkeys, described by Zen masters as Monkey Mind. My monkeys are different from Carol’s. Mine swing through the trees at random, taking my thoughts along with them, rendering me incapable of staying focused. They dangle distractions, and they're a hindrance all the time, not just while writing.

Look this up NOW! Right NOW! one shouts while I'm unloading the dishwasher or chopping celery for salad. When the monkey shouts, I enter a state of paralyzing need to obey. I crave the closure of filling that gap. Sometimes I return to chopping celery, but laundry may remain unfolded for days, a blog post unfinished for ... maybe ever.

Jackasses? I’ve known a few of those, but they don’t live in my head. For me the voices Kimberly attributes to jackasses are more subtle and indirect. Much harder to quantify. Mine are formless entities. They whisper from wisps of mist. "It's not good enough. It's shallow," they whisper. But wait. I reread my work and it is shallow. It isn’t ready for print. Those critical voices protect me. They drive me to more research on craft, to yet another round of edits. My whispering wisps protect me. I cherish them.

Tips for silencing monkeys, jackasses and wispy mist

1. Talk to them – ask them for their advice. If they tell you to work on your craft, they speak true. Heed them. If they tell you you’ll never succeed, you’ll never be good enough … tell them firmly to zip their lips and stuff them into their crates.
2. Talk to others – like Carol Bodensteiner, you may find it a huge relief to compare notes with fellow writers and learn that they battle the same demons. Compare notes on coping strategies.
3. Write stories about them – especially stories that poke fun at them. Write yourself as the shero of your own story (or hero, as the case may be). Have fun with these stories. Be silly, be bold, be outrageous. Smash and bash away.
4. Feed them cookies and make friends – because they can be helpful, as mine have turned out to be. Just don’t eat the cookies yourself. It is not true that writing success is directly proportional to body mass.
5. Call their bluffs – by succeeding in spite of them and yourself. Just write. And edit. And get lots of feedback. And then publish or share your work with legions of others. Those critters will get the message.

Write now: write a story about your inner demons. What form do they take? What do they sound like? How have you dealt with them? If you haven’t yet neutralized or harnessed their power, imagine that you have and write about that. Post your story in a comment or email me a copy. I’d love to read it.

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.

When You Are Not Writing

“What are we both doing right now?” asked a friend during a Skype session the other day.

“Holding a conversation…”

“We are talking about writing. We are NOT WRITING!”

Oh! Yeah. I got the message. In our defense, the logistics we were discussing were important, but indeed, we were not writing. We continued to talk a few more minutes about all the things we do that aren’t writing, such as:

• Run to the grocery store to buy last-minute items for the dinner we just decided to fix.
• Finally remember to put in (or take out or fold) that load of laundry.
• Finally remember to call and make a dentist appointment.
• Send out publicity for an event.
• Vacuum the floor.
• Clean the car windshield – inside and out – and then vacuum the car interior.
• Meet a friend for coffee.
• Check Facebook.
• Scan the news.
• Work a Sudoku, play “one game!” of FreeCell, etc.

That’s a very short list. Then we logged off of Skype with the promise that we’d touch bases in two hours with reports of how much writing we had gotten done.

That’s a glance at my life, and I claim that I write all the time. Usually I’d rather be writing than doing laundry, fixing dinner or any of those things on the list. But sometimes things just jam up.

So what’s a person to do when things jam up?

In a word, JUST DO IT. Sit down and write! Here are a few other ideas, in no particular order, to help you power through when you jam up:

• Make a list. Maybe it’s a To Do list that you can go back to after you write. The list will set your mind at rest, knowing you won’t forget anything. Maybe it’s a Story Idea List, or a list of topics or concepts you want to cover as you write.
• Set a timer. Some of my best writing has happened when I know I only have ten or fifteen minutes. It’s easier to stay focused when you know the duration is short.
• Switch modes. If you usually write on a keyboard, pick up a pen or pencil and a piece of paper. Writing with one hand on paper involves more areas of your brain. Each mode has advantages. Draw on them both.
• Check your Story Idea List for inspiration.
• Join a writing group. I actively participate in one group and mentor many more. Nearly all members agree that the group gives them a deadline that keeps them on track.
• Start a writing group. This isn’t as hard as it seems. Send me an email if you want a how-to kit.
• Take a writing class. This may seem like another delaying technique, but most classes encourage your to write and new ideas from class can jump-start motivation.
• Find a writing partner. Online partners work equally as well as local ones. Make a contract with each other agreeing to hold each other accountable and cheer each other on. This doesn’t mean you have to write five hours a day. Even once a week can be enough.
• Sit down and write. Sit in your chair. Open a new document or find a fresh sheet of paper. Start moving your fingers and do some free writing or writing practice.
• Start a new story. If the story, chapter or scene you’ve been working on has stalled you out, put it in the stable to rest and ride forth on a fresh horse. You can come back and tend the tired one later, after you’ve both rested.
• Make a mind-map. Use online software if you like, but I still like paper.

You can learn more about all of these and other tips in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing.

Now, with all of these tips at your disposal, you have no excuse. Get those fingers moving.

Write now: sit down and WRITE! Add to a current story, start a new one, edit an old one, do writing practice. It doesn’t matter what you do or how long you spend, for ten times, ten hours or ten days, just WRITE!

Spreading Ripples

I crawled into my cave, pulled a rock over the entrance, and binged on memoirs for the past week or so. I got caught up in a ripple effect and made a few unexpected discoveries in the process.

In the previous post, guest blogger Samantha White explained how writing her memoir changed her life. This theme of writing as a transformational process is becoming a hot topic, and an increasing number of people are turning to writing specifically for its ability to heal, change and transform lives.

What I’ve rediscovered during my reading orgy is that this transformational power is contagious. When I read a story that changed the author’s life, by the time I close the covers, I’ve experienced some changes myself. I learn and grow right along with that author.

For example, one of the books I read is Mark Matousek’s memoir, Sex, Death, Enlightenment: A True Story. Reading this book was an adventure. In spite of the fact that lots of elements of our lives are black and white different, many of his insights and truths set off fireworks of recognition.

When I finished reading, I began to ponder a recent “conversation” with my Inner Critic about the memoir I’ve been working on for a couple of years. In that conversation, after IC finished ripping my work to shreds, he surprised me by giving me a bizarre instruction: I should “dive into the circle” of an ocular migraine I was experiencing at the time. This shimmering ring of light would lead me to the answers I need, he claimed. I thought I heard him mutter “I dare you!” as he faded from the scene.

Yeah, right. Woo woo! But hey – stuck writers are game for all sorts of weird tricks, no matter who suggests them. The time seemed right, so based on reverberations from Mark’s book, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and visualized that shimmering ring, then slid through it like a playful porpoise.

I surfaced in the middle of a situation that occurred early in my first year of school. At least a decade ago I had recognized that memory as a watershed moment. As with most other key girlhood memories, I’ve written all the juice out of that experience, I thought down to gray gristle. How could this be the answer to unblocking the stuck project that IC rightly deemed “bo-o-oring!”?

To my amazement, ripples generated by the stone of Mark’s story did their work and washed up an additional layer of discovery. The meaning of that event was even more profoundly significant than I’d yet realized. This is unexplored turf. That event is once more juicy and tantalizing, and the insight drips with timely promise.

Further details are beyond the scope of this post, but I mention it to show the value of shared insights. Regardless of how we go about clearing debris from our soul, writing about the experience can comprise a double blessing. Writing is a path to insight for many. Writing can strengthen and deepen it for those who follow other paths. When those stories are shared, they may spark further insight in readers. Mark’s story lit a candle in my life, and I have no doubt it has done so for tens of thousands of others over the years.

Write now: find a good memoir, perhaps one of Mark’s or Samantha Whites, or Cheryl Strayed’s Wild. Read it with a notepad at hand to record any insights it sparks. Journal or write stories based on those insights, or your thoughts about the book in general and how it might apply to you.

Writing With All Your Senses — A Learnable Skill

When beginning writers read flowing prose full of dazzling descriptions, they may think, “I’ll never in a thousand years be able to write like that!” They may grow depressed and consider throwing their computer off a bridge. None of us are immune, as I pointed out in a past post, Inner Critic — Guide, Guard, or Enabler? 

When you hear that voice, rest assured that your Inner Critic is the source, and those words are both true and false. They are true because our writing voices are as personal and unique as our speaking voices. You could study and practice for fifty years and be equal in skill and reader impact, but you’ll never write exactly “like that.”

They are false because writing dazzling descriptions is a learnable skill. It takes practice and dedication and seeps into remote corners of life, but the results are worth the effort. In my experience, a three-pronged approach has worked well to hone description skills to a keen edge. One prong involves reading, another involves awareness of surroundings, and the third is deliberation.

I’m a deliberately slow reader. I savor words as a gourmet savors flavors. I always have a pad of sticky flags at hand when I’m reading a novel or memoir so I can flag words and phrases I admire. Some books may have only a couple; others bristle with them. When I read an innovative description, I roll it around, saying it out loud to practice the sound and feel of it, letting it sink deeply into my mind. I imagine how that author may have come up with it.

After I finish the book, I head for my computer and type the flagged passages into a Word document I’ve set up like a primitive database. I have over three dozen books logged there, perhaps half the number I’ve read since beginning the log. I review the file now and then when I need inspiration.

Turning to awareness of environment, when I see something unusual in my surroundings, I ponder ways to describe it. I consider its color, texture, shape -- anything unusual about it. I think about things it may remind me of as I search for metaphors and similes. I try to think out of the box and stretch to find new ideas, relying on the exercise I just mentioned — thinking about how other authors come up with the phrases I admire.

Finally, as I edit, I deliberate and seek fresh ways of stating things and artful ways of arranging the words I use. Free association and visualization are helpful.

This is art, and it has a musical component. You hear a lot about a writer’s voice. This is something we each develop. I may admire Rosamund Pilcher from daybreak to dusk, but my writing will never sound like hers. It won’t sound like Sue Grafton’s either, and certainly not like Steven King’s, or William Zinsser’s. My writing will sound like Sharon Lippincott’s, as it should. My challenge is to continually strive to stay on pitch and in rhythm to keep my voice as crisp and clear as it can be.

I will be sharing description writing secrets and strategies in an online class, Writing With All Your Senses, offered by Story Circle Network in January and February. Click for class and registration details.

Write now: scan the room around you and find one specific item that catches your eye, then write about it. Describe it in an unusual way, and strive to involve all your senses.

Photo credit: Rochelle

Write Like Nobody Will Read

Dance like nobody’s watching,
Write like nobody will read.

These words darted into my monkey mind as I gazed at Christmas lights, thinking back to high school days when folk dancing was a favorite activity. A motley mixture of adults and teenagers gathered each week at the Rec Hall for a medley of line and couples’ dances from many nations. College kids home for Christmas made holiday dances especially festive.

There were never any lessons – you just picked the dances up as you went, with occasional pointers from old-timers. Any athletic ability in our family went to my sister and brother. I was one of those kids always picked last for whatever team was forming in P.E., so, although I loved the music and the dancing, I was never a picture of grace. On some level I knew this, but put it out of  mind. I was having fun. At least until the night Kelly gave me some startling advice.

“Quit trying to make like a ballerina,” she said with a sneer. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?”

Ouch! Where’s the nearest hole? I fled to the ladies’ room to do battle with my Inner Critic.

Kelly was a couple of years older than I and home on break from college. She had studied ballet practically all her life, and she was good enough to turn pro. Undoubtedly watching my awkward attempts was painful for her, and tact had never been her strong suit. Perhaps she meant well, but her words stung. Fortunately she disappeared back to school, and I soon got over the humiliation and enjoyed dancing as much as ever, perhaps more.

I didn’t discount her message. After thinking it through, I did begin to relax into the music more, and seemed to move a bit more fluidly. If I was still a little awkward, so what? It didn’t seem to bother anyone but Kelly. We were there for the joy of dancing, not to put on a performance, and in general we were an accepting group.

Today as I recalled that horrific moment, I made the obvious connection to writing. There was a time when my writing was almost as awkward as my dancing. I have drafts of two short stories I wrote in 1978. They are utterly dreadful! I keep them as benchmarks for measuring progress. When I went to college I fell away from folk dancing, so I’ve had little opportunity to refine those skills. But I have continued writing for over thirty years now, and with lots of feedback, study and practice, I’ve made progress.

Today I often dance at home alone. I dance because I love to dance. I dance like nobody is watching, which is easy, because they aren’t. I write the same way. I write thousands of words nobody will ever see for every hundred I share. Maybe if I took up folk dancing again, I’d do better at it for all the private practice.

My advice for you: Forget the Kelly’s in life. Dance like nobody’s watching and write like nobody will read. If a Kelly wanders in, look for what you can learn and forget the rest.

Write now: about a Kelly experience in your life. How did you react? Did you shut down or keep slogging away? What did you learn then? What can you learn now for revisiting the event?

Image credit: Brendan Lally

Giving Helpful Feedback

Kathy Pooler’s Memoir Writer’s Journey blog post, “The Art of Constructive Feedback in Writing and in Life”, blew me away. Everyone who works with children in any capacity should read her account of the way her grandson’s soccer coach interacts with his team. Everyone who works with people should read the post and pay close attention to the juxtaposition of that style with the feedback she got on an early writing assignment that shut her down for decades.

Her post especially hit the spot because I’ve been deeply reminded lately that strong writing – deep, meaningful writing – generally benefits from feedback of one sort or another, and yet awkwardly given feedback can do more harm than good. In an attempt to prevent such a negative outcome, writing classes I teach, I always give each student a copy of the follow  Feedback Ground Rules:

• Stories you hear in this room stay in this room! This is crucially important for classes and writing groups to ensure people feel safe enough to share honestly and openly. This caution is not just about story content, it’s about writing skills. Who wants to run the risk that a fellow writer or student might blab to others the sort of thing your own Inner Critic is screaming? You need to respect everything about the writing process. If you want to share an amazing story, ask the author. Most likely the answer will be yes.
• Be care-fully honest. Don’t white wash your feedback, but strive for compassion and tenderness when you point out aspects of a story that don’t work for you.
• State at least two or three strong points for each piece. This may include memorable (velcro) words and phrases, a feature of the story structure, great description, moving content, anything at all.
• Limit comments about needed improvements to the two or three most compelling ones. Respect each person’s need to grow writing skills gradually.
• Avoid opinion — I like it, I didn’t like it, that was a great story. Opinion isn’t inherently bad, it’s just too easy to fall back on opinion rather than exert the mental effort to quantify why you liked or disliked a piece.
• Tell how you felt about it — how it affected you. Were you inspired, amused, touched, saddened … ?
• What worked especially well?
• Did the story seem to be missing anything?
• What one or two things can you suggest to make it even better?
• Avoid the temptation to start telling related stories — make a note of them on your story idea list.

That last item is not specifically related to feedback, but it is a frequent sidetrack in classes and writing groups. I encourage people to keep paper handy to write these ideas down while they’re fresh so they can go home and write the stories.These same rules work with one-on-one critiquing, although in this case, you may do more line-editing. Find out from the author just what information he or she needs and wants. If it’s an early draft, there’s no point in pointing out every missing comma. Stick with conceptual and structural comments.

Should you find yourself in an unenlightened group and be subjected to a barrage of negativity, have a firm talk with your Inner Critic. Tell her something like “Consider the source. Some of those comments were valid, but I’m not going to throw the baby out with the bathwater, and I’m' not going to assume their mean spirits meant anything other than that they don’t know much about how to be helpful. I’ll keep writing.” You may bring this up with the group and suggest some ground rules (you are welcome to copy the ones above), or you may just find a new group.

Be kind with yourself and others, be patient with all concerned, and remember that neither writing nor feedback skills are mastered in a single sitting.

Write now: jot down some thoughts about feedback experiences you’ve had. Were they negative or positive? If they were negative, use the “Is it true” technique to explore the implications.

Accessing Intuition

I recently wrote a review of Someone to Talk To,  Samantha M. White’s compelling memoir of her long process of building a life of serenity, love and happiness after falling into a pit despair when her young daughter died in a fatal car crash after a string of traumatic events. Since writing the review, Samantha and I have exchanged a number of emails about writing and memoir, and I’m delighted that she agreed to share the following thoughts as a guest post.

My rule for intuitive writing: While writing, don’t edit. Editing is the job of the brain; writing is the job of the heart. The heart knows no rules. Intuitive writing is what comes from the heart.

I believe the voice of my intuition has always been there, that we are probably all born with it. Parents, teachers, friends, and the media, in the process of “civilizing” us, overlay it with “rules” – lots of “don’ts” (”Don’t waste paper, don’t talk about others, don’t talk about sex,”) “always” (“Always stand up straight, always start a sentence with a noun phrase, always keep your prepositional phrases short,”) “never” (“Never wear white after Labor Day, never use an exclamation point at the end of a complete sentence”) and “shoulds” (A chapter should have a structure, contain action, a lady shouldn’t wear trousers in public,” etc.). I learned when I was still a teen-ager that cocktails were before dinner drinks, cordials were served after the meal. Red wine went with meat, white wines with chicken and fish. Those rules were as important as using the correct fork at the banquet table and sticking to the correct subjects in my speech and my writing. It was all part of the same very long list of Rights and Wrongs.

The rules were good to know, in order to not appear clumsy, gauche, or ignorant. But rules can pile up and eventually become so numerous that they hold the door to our intuition shut by their sheer weight. They become a barrier between us and our intuition, which is the free expression of our inner voice, our heart voice.

So accessing intuition, for me, was about judiciously discarding rules. In violation of what I had been taught, I wrote in incomplete sentences and about forbidden topics, and revealed my true self, weaknesses and strengths alike.

Does that suggest we would have better access to our intuition if we were not conscientiously “civilized” by our elders? Probably. But intuition without thought wouldn’t make for skill. I needed to know the rules AND to give myself permission to break them, first knowing, in every case, the reason why I was doing it, and measuring whether my action would cause anyone harm, and if it supported or violated my ethics and purpose.

So I guess my take on intuition is: know the rules of good writing, and then consciously put them aside and write from the heart. Write the initial drafts with confidence that they will never be seen by the reading public. Journal writing is especially valuable practice for accessing intuition, especially when we finally learn to trust that no one else is going to read it. Then we write as if we were talking to ourselves, telling ourselves only what is true and important, without regard for anyone else’s opinion of it. It helps open the door previously held shut by concerns of what others will think of us.

If writing for publication, go back afterward and check whether the writing conforms to good grammar, etc. Allow violations, but know the reason why. Always have an editor you can trust to both know the rules and respect your heart. The first step in writing a good paper, article, story, or book is to first write a “bad” one. It’s not really bad, of course, just probably in need of lots of good editing. Know the difference between editing and writing. Start with the writing.

Samantha M. WHite, MSW, LICSW, is a psychotherapist and life coach in private practice. She has earned college degrees in Pre-Med, Chemistry, Computer Science, and Social Work, achieving her most recent degree, the MSW, at the age of fifty-five. Her career has spanned the fields of medical research, education, health care administration, business and medical, hospice, and clinical social work, and she is a writer, educator, and public speaker. She lives in New England with her jazz musician husband, plays folk harp and percussion instruments, and enjoys kayaking on quiet rivers and ponds. Visit her website at http://www.samanthawhite.com/

Write Now: make a list of as many “rules” as you can think of that were uploaded into your head to govern your life. Then write a story about one of them, and how it has influenced you. Let intuition be your guide as you write, real and raw.

Hemingway Speaks to Life Writers

I’ve never been a huge Hemmingway fan, finding the couple of novels I read dull and dissipated. How could anyone possibly drink as much as his characters and still manage to walk around? Besides, the action seemed to move slowly. Maybe it was a guy thing, I decided, determining to abandon this dissolute literary icon.

But my opinion has changed. To pass the time on a recent road trip, my husband and I listened to a recording of The Snows of Kilimanjaro and I reached for my Moleskine to jot some notes. Hemmingway may have been writing fiction, but that story has a lot to say to those who write memoir. Intrigued by the recording, I found a book of his short stories at the library, and found more passages of specific relevance in other stories.

I admit it. I plan to finish the book, The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Short Stories. Who knows? I may even try another of his novels. Here are three clips I especially liked:

Now he would never write the things that he had saved to write until he knew enough to write them well. Well, he would not have to fail at trying to write them either. Maybe you could never write them,and that was why you put them off and delayed the starting. Well he would never know, now.

The Snows of Kilimanjaro

Who would dare to delay writing after reading that passage? Who knows which day the bell will toll for us?

It was not so much that he lied as that there was no truth to tell.

The Snows of Kilimanjaro

The subject of Truth is always a topic of interest and conversation among groups of life writers. Hemmingway has much to say about Truth in this particular story.

The major, who had been the great fencer, did not believe in bravery and spent much time while we sat on the machines correcting my grammar. He had complimented me on how I spoke Italian, and we talked together very easily. One day I had said that Italian seemed such an easy language to me that I could not take a great interest in it; everything was so easy to say. "Ah, yes," the major said. "Why, then, do you not take up the use of grammar?" So we took up the use of grammar, and soon Italian was such a difficult language that I was afraid to talk to him, until I had the grammar straight in my mind.

 In Another Country

This passage seems especially relevant to those who fear the Grammar Police, whether that be the one resident in your head or the one in your writing group. Note that the two men talked together easily before the main character acceded to the major’s coercion and began to learn grammar. While I don’t downplay the importance of grammar and the value of learning correct usage, I suggest that you not lose sight off the primary importance of writing the story. Let grammar cleanup be secondary. And be gentle with others lest you have the effect of the major and destroy their joy or stifle their urge to write.

Write now: pull out your Story Idea List and add a few new entries. Then pick one and write that story. Now. Before your leg begins to rot and it’s too late.

Photo credit: Stig Nygaard

Where Should I Start?

The single most frequent question I’m asked by people who are thinking about writing their life story, or those who recently began, is “Where do I start?” Variations of this are “How do I start?” and “How do I go about it?”

My answer has two parts and is echoed by everyone I know who teaches life story writing:

1. There is no right way to go about this. You think of one specific memory you want people to know about and start writing. Then you write another and another. Eventually they’ll start clustering in your mind and you’ll know what to do next.

2. You can jump start the process by taking time to make a Story Idea List. Essentially you just make a list and then write a story about each of the items on the list, in whatever order you wish. Some people write an orderly river of story; others write like time-traveling grasshoppers.

I cover the complex relationship between planning and writing in considerable detail in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing. At the end of that section, the concluding wisdom remains: there is no right way to write. You have to find a way that works for you. You’ll only find that way if you pick up a pen or sit down at the keyboard and get those fingers moving.

The other key thing to remember is that almost nobody produces a final copy the first time they write a story. While it is true that anything you write is better than writing nothing, and that your descendants would rather have a hastily scribbled draft written on a discarded lunch bag than not have a story at all, most people realize this work is their legacy, and they want to make it the best they can, within the bounds of time, ability, and motivation.

So don’t be daunted by thoughts like I’m not good at writing ... I don’t know how to say what I want to say ... People will read this and think I was an ignorant dope. Those thoughts come from your Inner Critic. Send him to his room. Start writing and let the words pour out however they do. You may be surprised to read things you had forgotten or never realized you knew.

For the first draft, it’s enough to just get the story down on paper. Later you can add details, refine descriptions and structure, expand the concept, and get as creative as you wish. Maybe branch out into another story. Edit  the best you can. Ask a literate friend for help. Read a book — of course I recommend my own at the top of the list, and you can find other fine titles on my website. Take a class. Join a writing group. You could even hire a coach.

Circling back around, it doesn’t matter where you start. It matters that you do.

Write now: make a list of 100 story ideas. Even if you are an experienced writer, you’ll benefit from this exercise to inject a dose of freshness into your writing. Make the list as broad or specific as you wish. When you finish the list, pick one idea and write the story.

Expert Advice: The Pro’s and the Con’s

If you haven’t discovered the TED Lecture series, I suggest you waste no time exploring their phenomenal videos about leading edge ideas, presented in TED sponsored programs.  I’ve embedded one of my favorites for your viewing pleasure. Noreena Hertz is an expert speaking on the dangers of becoming addicted to the advice of experts.

Her words appealed to me on just about every level, perhaps because I was raised in a family of die-hard do-it-yourselfers who lacked the resources of Google to solve every problem. We didn’t even go to the library. We just figured things out and did them! That’s a hard mental habit to shake.

Over the years I’ve come to have a healthy respect for those who know more than I do about any given topic, and I’m eager to benefit from their experience. But I’ve learned the hard way to listen to those skeptical whispers.

Those lessons are part of my Story. But the real tie-in for this video in this blog is an inferred message for writers in any genre. We can and should study the work of others. We’ll benefit from reading books about the craft of writing and taking classes to get more guidance. We’ll benefit from participating in writing and critique groups, forums, and writing organizations. We may even benefit from hiring editors and coaches.

BUT, when all the books, classes, and feedback are finished, regardless of the source, we need to listen to that little voice within reminding us, “This is my story.  This is what I need to say, and this is how I need to say it.” When it comes to your life, your Truth, YOU are the expert!

Speaking of experts, I modestly proclaim that I’m developing more than average expertise on the topic of the health benefits of expressive writing. Earlier this week “Writing With Feeling Feels Good,” my first post of a monthly series on this topic, debuted on the Women’s Memoirs site. The content is relevant to anyone, so you fellows are warmly invited to click over and take a look too. Don’t be deterred by the name. Matilda and Kendra assure me everyone is welcome.

Write now: do some journaling or free writing and conduct a written dialogue with your Inner Critic. Explore the whispers you hear urging you to defer to expert opinion. You may want to make this a round table and include your Inner Cheerleader to remind you of your own wisdom, power, voice and skill. Write about following the experts in your writing life and life in general. You may want to expand some “expert stories” into story form to share with others.

The Power of a Question

“She hears voices.”

“He talks to himself.”

Until recent years such observations conveyed suspicion of ... insanity! Or maybe the dazzling brilliance of an eccentric genius. Few people want to be thought of as the first or qualify for the second. Could that be why so few people know about this powerful journaling technique?

Posing questions in your journal and then writing down the answers may be the single most powerful tool available for insight, healing and problem-solving. The more you use it, the stronger it grows. This technique is recommended by all leading journal experts for developing insight, solving problems, enhancing creativity and more. Let’s take a quick look at a few Power Questions and how to use them. Later posts will explore specific questions in more depth.

The first step of the simple process is to describe a troubling or puzzling situation, then follow it up with a question like one of these:

What can I learn from this?

An ideal question to pose after recording anger, hurt or fear arousing incidents and events.

Is this true?

This simple question is an offshoot of The Work of Byron Katie. Whether you are writing or obsessing, it’s a great way to break your chain of blame and negativity. It’s also a way to protect yourself from overoptimism.

What would (insert name) say about this?

Some variation of this question opens the door to understanding other points of view that may provide the key to resolving differences, or removing thorns from sticky situations.

What would I rather be doing? 

What gives me the most pleasure? 

What’s my payoff for continuing down this path?

How do I really feel about this?

The more often you pose questions to yourself, the more easily they will come to you. The second step is to start writing answers without any conscious effort to find them. Set your Inner Critic aside and just write. Let the words flow. You may be surprised at some of the answers that appear on the page. Don’t settle for the first answer that pops out of your pen. There may be many, and the most productive may lurk at the bottom of the bottle.

Where do these answers come from? Some say the creative subconscious. Others may claim they come from Spirit in whatever form you understand it. Maybe imply The Universe. Who cares? They work. Do yourself a favor and give them a try.

Write now: briefly describe a puzzling or emotionally draining situation. Begin a new paragraph with the question, “What can I learn from this?” Spend at least five minutes freewriting answers without conscious thought on your part. Read the answers and continue to drill down with more questions about juicy answers. Finish with a simple “Thank you.”

Photo: Wikimedia

Q & A About Keeping a Journal

Photo by Julie Jordan Scott

Journaling is one of the most intensely personal activities you can indulge in and one of the most powerful self-care ones, plus it's a gold mine of material for memoirists. Because it is so personal, there is no right way to do it, but many beginners still have questions. Below are a few of the most common.

Do I have to write by hand?
No. There is some evidence that writing by hand slows your thinking to an orderly pace, giving meditative-like benefits, but the edge is slight. If you are able to catch the gush of your thoughts better on a keyboard, go for it.

How should I choose a journal?
It doesn’t matter if you use a hand-bound volume covered in Italian leather, a composition book from the Dollar Store, a folder full of loose paper, software like LifeJournal. or a basic text editor. What does matter is that you choose something you feel comfortable with, and then use it.

When is the best time to write?
Many people prefer to write first thing in the morning, but that doesn’t work for everyone. Write when you can — during coffee or lunch breaks at work, on the bus, after dinner ...

How often should I write?​
To get the most meaningful results, you should write at least several times a week. In her multi-million copy best-seller The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron advises writing three pages, first thing, every day, and millions of people around the world follow this advise. She does not specify page size. If you skip a day or few for whatever reason, Just pick it back up and keep going as soon as you can.

How much time should I spend?
As stated above, Julia recommends three pages. That may take ten minutes or an hour. Write for as long as you feel the urge and have the time.

What should I write about?
Anything at all. You can keep a log of the weather, record your comings and goings, rant and rave. You can keep a gratitude journal. One key to using it for enhanced health and enlightenment is to focus on feelings, emotions and reactions. The more you get your inner thoughts on paper, the more self-aware you become, the more alternate perspectives you’ll find, and the more stress you are likely to relieve.

Should I share my journal?
That’s a personal choice. If you think others might read it, you’ll filter what you write. You’ll gain the most insight if you keep it private. Hide it or keep it elsewhere if you don’t trust people you live with. Then always write the Truth as you know it, and watch that Truth transform.

What other tips should I know?
Two key questions have generated huge pay-offs of insight for me: “Is this true?” and “What can I learn from this?” After I write one of those questions on the page, I just write down the answer without serious thought. Writing dialogue with people from the past — or even imaginary people — is also powerful for surfacing hidden thoughts and wisdom.

Another tip is to write as fast as you can without concern for punctuation, grammar or even making sense. Just get it on the page and don't let your inner critic stop you!

Do I need lists of topics to write about?
No. But using them can seed some amazing essay material.

What if I lapse?
My advice about writing in your journal is the same as writing life stories: Anything you write, anything at all, is better than writing nothing. Even if it is just a few paragraphs a couple of times a year.

Where can I find more information?
My favorite websites about journaling:
     International Association for Journal Writing
     Writing Through Life
     Center for Journal Therapy

My favorite books about journaling:
     One to One, Christina Baldwin
     Journal to the Self, Kathleen Adams.

Write Now: if you don’t have a journal, find some paper or open a new file and start one. If you do have one. pull it out and write an entry.

Our Own Worst Enemy

An ailing friend was moaning to me the other day about the fact that having flu the week before Christmas means that she may not get all her baking done.

“So what? Just forget it. Life goes on. Everyone will understand. Besides, how many of you really need desert anyway?”

“Oh, yes, they do need it on Christmas. I’ll really hear about it I don’t come through.”

Later on I thought about that conversation. It’s so easy to hear other angles to someone else’s thoughts. I had an evil idea and sent her a tongue-in-cheek email detailing several possible journal entries that might wreck her karma if she doesn’t leap out of bed and whip up a figgy pudding, along with 80 dozen cookies.

Here’s a hypothetical journal entry from her adult son:

I know I should spend more time worrying about Mom. She's really trying to do so much, and the fact that she didn't manage to rise from her sickbed and do her usual baking is a terrible sign. Well, she's obviously starting to slip. That just isn't like her. In the past, it didn't matter what was going on, or how sick she got, she always came through for us. But hey, she'll be one hundred in a few decades, so I guess it's normal that she's slowing down. Still, why couldn't she wait and get sick some other week, and not when it was Christmas. The whole dinner was pretty much a wreck because we didn't have pudding and cookies to fill in around the edges.

“You are wicked,” she informed me after she read it. “Wicked, and right on target. I can be my own worst enemy.” She went on to tell me she had already come to the conclusion that a new waistline-friendly tradition may begin this year. “But if I hadn’t already decided, you might have convinced me, which is surely what you had on your devious little mind.”

Guilty as charged.

The next morning I paused while writing in my journal, remembering that email. It occurred to me that if wildly burlesque treatment of someone else’s foibles works so well to unmask them, perhaps it would work to use it on myself. I thought of a particular rock wall I’ve been beating my head against the past few days and turned my pen over to the control of a couple of inner “life” critics. They really let loose.

It worked. I ended up laughing at myself and the whole situation. My mind settled down, and I found some possibilities I had been overlooking. I felt cheerful again, even though I still haven’t solved the problems.

Journaling and humor make a powerful combination. I highly recommend it.

Write now: sit down with a cup of tea or beverage of your choice and spend ten minutes giving voice to one or more of the voices causing you stress this season. Let them mock and jeer and tear away. Exaggerate. Blow things out of proportion. Let them do their very worst and carry on until they run out of steam. You may be surprised how quickly that happens and how light you feel afterward.

Layers of Life

The onion is often used as a metaphor for self-discovery. I first heard it used that way in 1979 during a conversation with a social worker. “Just as I think I finally know the essence of who I am, I discover another layer. It's like peeling another layer from on onion.”

I’ve often pondered this metaphor through the years, considering that at the center of the onion, there is nothing but . . . more onion. Is that all there is? I wonder. Just more onion? More “me”?

A small matroyshka doll sitting on a shelf in my office recently caught my eye. I bought a bag of them from a street vendor in St. Petersburg a few years ago, and haven’t paid much attention since. I picked the doll up and gently twisted her open, removing the smaller one, and another, and . . . five dolls in all, the center one about the size of a dried pinto bean.

Now that’s a better metaphor, I thought. Each doll is similar to the one it nests inside, but each also has a distinct personality. There is something new to discover as I continue to open the dolls.

Whether you think in terms of onion, matroyshka dolls, or some other metaphor, I encourage you to explore the colorfully complex layers of your life and memories.

There is no magic formula for this. The best way I have found is to ask myself questions as I write in my journal.

Typical questions are “What does this mean?” and “What else could it mean?” Or, “How do I feel about that?” Or, “What can I learn from this?” Keep asking this sort of question until you run out of answers. You’ll be amazed at the thoughts that spring to mind! The process works especially well when you follow the freewriting guidelines: keep your hand moving and never let your pen or pencil leave the page.

This intuitive exercise has at least two layers of benefits. First, you’ll make fascinating discoveries about how you think, and what you believe is True. Your thinking and understanding will become more clear, and you’ll also get juicy material for your stories.

Just one caveat: if your Inner Critic tries to intervene, send her to her room. Don't let her deter you from following this trail through to the end.

Write now: grab your journal, some scratch paper, or you keyboard and write about a memory, preferably a succulent one that still puzzles you. Use one or more of the questions above to explore the situation in depth, striving to uncover several layers of thought about the matter.

Don’t Fall into the Perfection Trap

Patrick has been working on the same story for three months now, rearranging words, adding a few lines, deleting others, and revising descriptions. “I can’t write anything else until this one is perfect,” he explains to his writing group.

If you are walking in Patrick’s shoes, remember, it’s super to have a polished, perfect story, but your descendants would rather have piles of drafts than half a dozen jewels. Even if you are working on a piece for publication, there’s a point beyond which you are unlikely to add value by obsessing. Start a new file and move on to escape the Perfection Trap.

Maryanne hasn’t written anything at all for several weeks, but keeps coming to group meetings, “Because I know if I don’t come, I’ll never get around to writing again.” Privately, Maryanne admits that when she thinks about sitting down to write, twenty-nine things seem more urgent. She’s beginning to realize that she just doesn’t feel like her stories measure up to her own standards or the work she hears others reading.

To all the Maryannes in the world (and your numbers are legion): There is no wrong way to write. Your story is as personal as your fingerprint. Revel in your uniqueness. Celebrate yourself. Let your words flow onto paper with as much abandon as they flow forth in conversation, and be pleased that they will reflect your warm and loving heart and personality.

If typing your story seems overwhelming, write with pen, write with pencil, write with crayons or markers. When it comes to writing lifestories, quality is good, quantity is better, anything is better than nothing, and it doesn't matter how the words get onto paper.

Have a talk with your Inner Critic and explain that your usual standards of excellence are to be held in abeyance, at least for now. Yes, you want to do a good job, but any lifestory you write (no matter how rough and crude) is better than writing nothing. So crank out those drafts (put “draft copy” at the top if it will make you feel better), edit as you get a chance — without obsessing over it, and watch that story legacy grow.

Write now: a journal entry or personal essay about your attitude toward perfection in your writing.