Ethan Gilsdorf on Zooming In and Lingering: “In personal essay, memoir and creative nonfiction, we want to bring to our pages a sense of verisimilitude, of intruding upon someone else’s circumstances, of grasping someone else’s fleeting take on the world.” How to do this? Gilsdorf suggests: “The language of cinematography is a useful analogy: in a wide or medium shot, the viewer is distant from the subject; in close-ups and extreme close-ups, the frame of reference is tight. In writing, this means: rather than quickly cutting away, or keeping the viewer far removed, like a drone hovering high above, we can zoom in on the subject of our attention, or pan across it, slowly. We can train our writerly efforts to pause. To not skip over— but to linger, loiter, dawdle, stay put, wait.” Excerpted from “Stay a Little Bit Longer: The Art of Zooming In and Lingering,” The Brevity…
Category: Guest Bloggers
Fast Drafting
Zarien Hsu Gee offers “fast drafting” as a creative process: Fast drafting is a way to break through creative paralysis, to see what might be possible with an idea or writing project. When you commit to writing fast without judgment, you bypass the inner critic that can slow your progress to a crawl or even prevent you from moving forward at all. The beauty of fast drafting lies in its imperfection. By calling it a “fast draft,” you free yourself from the expectation of perfectionism. You accept fast drafting as a necessary creative process in order to move forward with your work, and your expectations for its literary genius is low. Your goal is just to get it all down. The fast draft also serves as confidence booster. It reminds you that you can write this story, this novel, this memoir. When you write fast enough to outrun judgment, your…
Stories Help Us Understand
Excerpt from “Readers Are Fascinated by Truth in Fiction—and It Matters,” by Penny Haw “It doesn’t matter who we are, we all want stories. They help us make sense of our experiences and a complicated world. Because we’re inquisitive, social animals, stories help us understand and connect with one another. When we recognize and relate to characters and events in stories—particularly those we believe to be true—it strengthens our social bonds and confirms we belong. There’s a kinship that inspires, informs and comforts us and, though we might not always be conscious of it or understand why, we’re all searching for truths in the world. Stories also evoke emotions and help us understand what it might be like to be different. We want to see the truth in those stories to help us understand people who are different and have different experiences of life.” — Posted on Jane Friedman’s Blog,…
Perhaps
Note from Marlene: “Perhaps” is one of my favorite words. It’s an easy method of offering alternative ways of thinking. If you are writing a memoir and aren’t sure of the details, you could write, “Perhaps it happened this way.” If you are conjecturing, “perhaps” is a gentle way of saying, “It could have happened like this.” Here’s what Guest Blogger Lisa Knopp has to say about “Perhapsing.” At some point, writers of creative nonfiction come to a roadblock or dead end in our writing, where we don’t have access to the facts we need to tell our story or to sustain our reflection with depth and fullness. If only it was ethical to just make something up, we might think, or to elaborate a bit on what we know. But of course, then we wouldn’t be writing creative nonfiction. It might appear that our choices in such cases are…
Memory
Guest Blogger Hospice Nurse Sharon Ziff writes: We acknowledge that aging, slowing down, and death are normal stages of life. We exercise, eat healthy, think positively, and bring love and playfulness into our lives. Still, eventually, death will walk in. What if we make friends with death? Can understanding the last chapters of your life move you toward acceptance and peace? Acceptance and peace can be a gift you can give yourself and your loved ones. Sharon’s Story:I remember Mama. I wore a hat with a bee pin that was my Mother’s. I gave it to her for her birthday thirty years ago. Maybe for her 75th? I don’t remember the year. But I remember the joy of purchasing it and her face when I gave it to her. I can see it on her blouse. I think of Mother often. Every time I wear my hat with her bee pin….
Know When to Quit
I’m a fan of Brevity Blog. Here’s a favorite: “Quitting Time: Why You Need to Let Go of That Writing Project” by Allison K. Williams. “As writers, we’re sold on the value of perseverance. Just do another draft. Just keep working. Send another query, another submission. One day you’ll break through. Sit down and finish. Now. Today. This week. In fifteen-minute increments while waiting for carpool, or in one wild coffee-fueled weekend. I think I can, I think I can. I can get to the end of this sentence. This paragraph. This page. This essay. This book. But there’s value in quitting, too. Click “Quitting Time” to read the rest of Allison’s Blog Post.
Loss
Guest Blogger Sharon Ziff writes: I lost my gloves—the ones I bought in Venice last year. I loved them. LOVED THEM. How could I love a pair of gloves? They had a soft, fluffy pompom on the top. I liked to stroke them. It was like petting a kitty. Sadness. And upset with myself for losing them. So I lost a pair of gloves. How could I feel this deep emotion for a pair of gloves? It’s the attachment to my experience in Venice and my love for the friend I was with. Loss is a recurring theme in my writing. At times, I struggle to manage the intense feelings that accompany loss. There’s a burning sensation in my belly that I want to go away. I find myself thinking, “No, no, no,” while tears begin to flow. It’s not about the lost gloves; it’s about the impermanence of life….
I Don’t Know . . .
Note from Marlene: I am very excited to share Jennifer’s post with you. Since my passion is how to write about difficult subjects without adding trauma, I am especially grateful to Jennifer for addressing this topic. Jennifer’s eloquent writing on what she doesn’t know about her father is outstanding and an example of how you can write about “what you don’t know.” Guest Blogger Jennifer Leigh Selig: When I lead memoir writing retreats, I like to kickstart the mornings with writing prompts. One of the tricks of my trade is a manilla envelope stuffed with images I’ve printed out of vintage and iconic toys and games from across the decades. It’s a ritual I cherish—spreading these images out on the long conference room tables, imagining my students’ delight as they light upon a special toy or game that brings back fond memories, and then watching them begin to furiously write….
Writing Your Parents’ Stories
Guest Blogger Laura Zinn Fromm writes: A few days ago, one of my students emailed. She had read an essay I’d just published about my father—dead now 19 years but still giving me plenty of juice to write about. The essay was about how volatile my Dad had been, and how loving—a love I rediscovered in letters he’d written to my mother at the end of their marriage. My mother had given me the letters during the pandemic, while she was cleaning out her house. I knew my parents had once loved each other fiercely and unambiguously, but the memory was an ancient one that predated my birth, and by the time I started to pay attention to how they treated each other, it was clear that love had been undone by disappointment and grief. They’d had a stressful marriage, and eventually moved on to other people—my father remarried, adopted…
Write What You Know: What Does That Mean, Exactly?
Guest Blogger Dixie Somers writes: If you’re a writer, you’ve no-doubt heard the phrase “write what you know” in every workshop you’ve attended. But what does that actually mean? Should you only write about your personal experiences? Do you have to be an expert on a topic to write about it? Not necessarily! To get a better grasp on this common writing tidbit, I’m here to break it down and help you find what you “know.” So grab your pen and paper (or keyboard) and let’s dive into this together. What is “Knowing?” To start, let’s define what it means to “know.” The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it as having a clear perception or understanding of something. So when we’re told to write what we know, it means writing about things that we have a good grasp on and can easily convey to others. This can include personal experiences, but it…