Showing posts with label writing philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing philosophy. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

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

Friday, July 29, 2011

Pleasure vs. Work


I’ve never really looked into what a writing coach does. It never crossed my mind to inquire. A couple of years ago when I got really serious about writing, I had a well-published writer with whom I was acquainted tell me that I should be a coach.

That was the first time I heard of such a position and I certainly didn’t feel qualified for it. I’d just started in this crazy business that so many of us struggle with. I couldn’t believe that what I’d been doing during our association was anything other than friendly encouragement and suggestions.
I'm one of those who gets a high from brainstorming some one's plot, or creating characters from thin air, or floating ideas that may never come to fruition, but sound  good in that moment. Let my imagination run wild and I'm a happy camper.

And no, I haven’t taken the title of Writing Coach for the shingle hanging outside my office.

I guess what I’m feeling my way toward is the fact that what seems only common courtesy and helpful information sharing also seems to be the activities that designate an actual professional job.

Case in point: when I’m looking at markets for possible sales for my own work, I carry with me a mental image of those writers whose work I know and whose talents I admire. These are writers whom I’ve been associated with for a few years; some may still be struggling toward publication, others may have sold numerous pieces.

If I come across a market that could mean a sale for one of these other writers, I take note of the link and the market needs and send the writer an email to that effect. Most of the writers I converse with on a regular basis are children’s writers. Sometimes finding a market can be devilishly difficult in a shrinking marketplace and it helps to have more than one pair of eyes scanning submission guidelines for possible matches.

It always takes me aback when the recipient of my email replies with profuse thanks as to my thoughtfulness. It makes me wonder if I’m the only one who does this. I’m not a fairy godmother dispensing markets to starving writers willy-nilly. I’m passing on information to friends who might be able to use it.

It makes me feel good to be appreciated, but that appreciation wasn’t my motivation. I just can’t understand why anyone would squirrel away a market in hopes no other writer will come across it and thereby elevate her own chances of making a sale. That is simple greed to my thinking.

I suppose I got spoiled when I began writing in earnest because my first pond of endeavor was children’s writing. And those I came to respect, appreciate, and associate with as friends were children’s writers. The group I fell in with, at ICL’s Writer’s Retreat, holds some of the most generous and caring individuals I’ve ever had the privilege of spending time with.

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to play on the Retreat right now. I have too many projects in flames, on burners, drowning, or otherwise needing my attention. It’s all I can do to find some concentration time to create new poetry, which has become another passion for me.

Those dear friends of near every age and experience level over at the Retreat still sit in the background of my days. I can hear their imaginary conversations and satirical asides as I work at the keyboard. I smile when I think of the family they’ve created at that little cafĂ© along Main Street in a small town that floats on the dreams and aspirations of its patrons.

Writing coach? I don’t think so. I don’t feel I’ve been in the business long enough to really have that much to contribute to such a position. Encouraging writing friend? You betcha. If I can help, I take time for it. If I have information, I pass it on to someone who might be able to use it.

And there you have my writing philosophy for today. It’s as simple as: if you’re willing to allow others to read your words, you should also be willing to help others get their words out. One person’s view makes for a very narrow and lifeless picture. Help create the biggest picture you can.

Until later, peeps,

Claudsy