Review What You Know

Lately writers have gotten two bits of advice on what to write about: write what you know—the old literary standard, and the new, write about those things that you’ve always wanted to know.

 Either piece of advice will put words on a page, but the question is: what kind of words are sticking to that page?

During the February Blog Challenge on my Wordpress blog, Claudy’s Blog, I’ve talked about my family. I haven’t given away the store, by any means. I’ve dived into those strong personal memories that surged to the surface of the memory pool. They were strong in personal meaning, not necessarily in perfect imagery. They were things I’ve known from the past.

Since beginning, I’ve spoken to a couple of family members who remember additional info about specific aspects of those I’ve written about. I learned things that were previously hidden from me. In doing this challenge, I started a process of looking at family about which some was known to me, as well as the people who carry those additional memories.

How to Learn About Memory Carriers?

People store memories in odd ways that even the experts haven’t unraveled completely. Associations made up of emotion, sensory triggers, and/or trauma link aspects of memories within the brain and the mind. Ever wonder why the scent of a favorite baked goodie makes you feel good and think of mom or grandma? What about that sharp pain in your shin? Didn’t that leg get whacked during a Little League game?

Those associate olfactory and pain triggers have kicked in to bring emotion and their accompanying memories to the surface. In fact, many believe the sense of smell triggers the strongest and most accurate memory links.

My theory is that people reveal themselves through what they remember and the sensory triggers that call up those memories as much as through how they behave.

Many writers use this knowledge to build characters that are believable, rounded out, and belong in anyone’s family or town. This ability to reveal a person’s internal truth shows a character’s motivations, personal history, aspirations, what-have-you.

When I talked of my Dad’s lessons in field and forest, I was standing beside him, listening to what I remembered of his words, his tone; watched his gestures and facial expressions. The memory movie ran until I stopped it to move on to another lesson memory.

Like most people, hearing a song on the radio puts me immediately back into the time and place where I heard the song for the first time or into the most personally important event of my life up to that point. Flip the record and I do a similar bit of time travel.

The sound of a particular word or phrase—especially if it’s in dialect—and my world will shift to that place and those whom I’ve known who use that word or phrase in the same manner.

Collecting and Using the Knowledge

Think back to people you know within the family. What do you know about their lives? Isn’t it true that you think you know only what they’ve told you about their earlier lives?

You can broaden your view of them by sifting through your own memories; sort out the conversation or trigger that brought about the telling of your family member’s recollections. When you talked to you grandmother, for instance, as she helped you make your first cookies, didn’t she reminisce about baking like this with one of her loved ones?

Body language exhibits unconscious cues to internal feelings and can’t be totally controlled. Do you recall what her face showed during that retelling of a past event? Was her tone lovingly gentle, filled with suppressed laughter, or tight-lipped with suppressed emotion? Did her eyes sparkle and her hands pause as she stared off into space for a moment, lost to that memory?

All of those tiny cues hold keys to a life lived before you existed. They speak of that person as you’ve never known them. You have only to take note of them and add the information and supposition to your working knowledge of this person who belongs in your family.

Watch a speaker’s body language as carefully as you listen to her words. Together, speech and physical cues can fill out your mental photo of that person. Use that information in ways that help your relationship, create a believable character, and expand family history and your understanding of it.

You can now write about something you know. You can also dive deeper into things unknown for the sake of knowledge about someone in your life. These are examples of what writers do, some of what this writer does, and why all writers need to use what they know and be able dig into what they don’t know.

Until later,

Claudsy

Sirens Aren’t Only For Emergencies

Whether you’re a blogger or novelist or merely jot down letters that go to Aunt Tilly, you’re answering a call of some kind. People listen with heads, hearts, and ears. The only thing that differs from one time to the next is what they’re listening to.

And if a writer listens hard enough, she might just come to special territories yet uncharted.

Self-Discovery

When I got serious about writing a few years ago, I thought I’d stick to one genre and deviate only by age group. Children’s writing allowed for that choice. Along the way to seriousness I discovered many things.

After working on short stories for children, ages second grade and younger, I realized that I don’t have the knack of writing for very young children. I like those stories and books written for the age bracket. It hurt to learn that writing for that age wasn’t my long suit. I can’t think in the same vein they do. I’m much better creating stories for older children.

Along the way, too, I learned that I liked working in non-fiction more than fiction, which scared me silly. There are many exciting ideas out there in the real world that could excite a child. I wanted to be one of those who excited and entertained them with such stories. At the time I had a marvelous editor, who had faith in me and told me that my strength was non-fiction.

Why is it that other writers recognize our strengths long before we can?

In addition to that, I began writing for adults, both non-fiction and fiction. Poetry came into the mix, as well. I was one of THOSE writers; I found true pleasure only when writing in multiple genres for many audiences at the same time.

Enter the Dabbler

My nemesis had returned. I was a true dabbler, with fingers and toes in mud pies everywhere, never satisfied any other way. I should have known. I’d dabbled in hundreds of things during my life. As soon as I mastered them, I was off and running toward something new and different.

Was my nomadic lifestyle trait going to take over every aspect of my life? It seemed so. Knowing my past, I could attempt a prediction of my future in writing.  I studied and wrote for children and young adults when I began. I moved on to study more and to write for other writers. I segued into poetry only to find a different type of joy and expression. From there, I jumped over to the journalistic side of the house with local interest pieces and travel.

What Now?

Now the most serious work begins. I can finish my journalistic studies and move onto my first book in that arena. While I work on that with my sister and photographer partner, I can split the rest of my time with work on poetry projects, plotting and preliminary work on a women’s novel. When time allows, I’ll dabble in two different fantasy worlds for YA. Odd moments will find me working on articles and short stories for magazines and Yahoo.

A couple of years may pass before I get all of those projects done. I’ve learned a few things from NaNoWriMo, though. Plotting doesn’t take forever any more, since I learned how to plot from a few experts.

Besides, every writer knows that the initial writing doesn’t have to take years for a book today. It’s the rewrites, tweaking, querying, grabbing an agent’s attention and contract, and then marketing it to publishers and readers. That’s where the time lays waiting. Unless, of course, you’re building major universes to live in like some of the greats have done.

I’m also realistic enough to know that some of those projects will fall by the wayside. I’m doubly blessed in that I have terrific writer friends who will give me a good swift boot where it counts if I don’t do the best job I can on any project. They’ll hold my hand when my characters turn traitor and abandon me in the midst of a crisis. Laughter will take me by surprise when I’m most in need of it.

A writer’s circumstances ebb and flow with the Moon’s cycles as do the tides. Procrastination wars with frantic productivity and creative exuberance. I’ve climbed into my baby writer’s rowboat and placed my hands on the oars. My only decision of the moment concerns which port-o-call holds the greatest allure. Muse sirens call to me.

I cast my glance toward a distant shoreline named Journey and begin with the first stroke. I have heard that the destination isn’t as important as steps taken to get there. Each stroke of the oars will move me ever closer, but what will each stroke reveal along the way? That’s a question that can only be answered as they happen.

Until we meet here again,

Claudsy    

Diving for Answers

Like most writers I know, time and its use hold importance to me. Life’s circumstances dictate time’s use and my mental athlete runs the race around the clock. Whether that race is designed for rats or not is irrelevant.

Decades ago, Frank Herbert, the brilliant creator of other worlds, made a statement that still rings true. “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when my fear is gone I will turn and face fear's path, and only I will remain.” Paul Atreides, the MC Herbert’s masterpiece, “Dune,” said it well.

Symptoms of Fear

That niggling flutter in the pit of your stomach signals fear’s presence. That quaver in a voice tells more than spoken words. Sleeplessness caused by tension-filled muscle tissue disrupts therapeutic slumber.

Sound familiar? Some form of the question “What am I so afraid of?” falls from your lips. Your mind may or may not have the answer at that moment. The question mark hangs, dangling like a hangman’s noose, waiting to strangle your forward momentum.

Our lives are bombarded with images to instill fear. We carry around cell phones just in case something happens that necessitates our immediate attention. Some people panic at the thought of not having their phones or iPads with them.

A writer’s fears are no different, except when it comes to their work. A ditch digger doesn’t worry whether his skills are good enough to get the job. The guy at the newsstand doesn’t spend time wondering if he’s up to doing his job. Most people get along each day knowing that they’re doing their best.

It’s not always that easy for writers.

What’s the worst that could happen?

For writers like me who have yet to hit the “big time,” the noose labeled fear is a constant companion to some degree. Once I’ve asked myself that aforementioned question, I must identify the immediate fear culprit. Dealing with intimidating fear requires personal honesty.

If the fear focuses on querying a market about a story, etc., I ask, “What is the worst that can happen?” If I’m honest with myself, I say, “They could reject it.”

The answer to most questions is “Yes” or “No.” It’s that simple. In this case, the real question I’m asking myself is “Is this story good enough to get accepted by this market?” Remember, the underlying fear centered on the query and the market.

Once the “good enough” question gets an answer, another question pops up. “Am I a good enough writer to have this piece accepted?” Anything less than an immediate affirmative reply reveals the real question.

Fear tends to pool deep within. Again, I come to the “Yes” or “No” portion of the exercise. The answer to this next question takes pondering because it’s asking about belief in one’s self. The final question asks, “Will I ever be any good at this or should I quit now?”

I know a lot of writers and I’ve never heard any of them say that this last question hasn’t crossed their minds. At the end of the day we all wonder if we’re good enough at something specific; writing, drawing, competitive riding, advertising, making a paycheck, etc.

Finding the value in an answer

We ask ourselves if the activity is worth it and the time spent on it. If we’ve been honest with ourselves along the way, we can answer the question about “Worth” and being good enough.

All it takes is personal honesty. I work hard at writing. I enjoy the process of putting words together to create meaningful image. If an editor rejects my story idea, at least one person has read it. I can always try to place the story again. One person’s rejection of one idea means little in the writing world. Ask Stephen King or any other renowned writer about rejection. Writers like Jane Yolen actually post their rejection experiences.

Whether the fear focuses on writing activity or studying for the next test in school, it always takes a toll. It prevents forward movement in our lives. It sidetracks our faith in our own abilities or interests. It destroys relationships with others. And it does all that with our blessing when we don’t confront it and ask the real questions behind it.

Like all things reaching out from the unknown behind that creaky door on the movie screen, fear demands our attention. The more attention we give it, the more we miss, away from that focal point.

Paul Atreides may be a character fulfilling his fated destiny, but the writer behind the character knew a great truth and shared it with everyone. “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when my fear is gone I will turn and face fear's path, and only I will remain.”

Once we understand what has been driving our hesitation, we can get behind the wheel and drive ourselves. That’s a gift we can give ourselves each day for the rest of our lives. That gift is also part of our "worth."

I wonder how many don’t realize that they’ve only been a backseat driver in their own vehicle all these years. I know it took most of my life to finally understand.

Here’s hoping I’ve sparked a bit of self-discovery or discussion among those who come to my table.

Until later, take care, all, and God bless.

Claudsy