PEOPLE WHO write stories are often not brilliant conversationalists. There is a measure of thinking that precedes writing which, in theory, allows words to be presented more clearly on paper than from our lips. For example, I just wrote and rewrote that last sentence 3 times. You don’t have that luxury when you are speaking to an audience.
Writers depend on the trusty delete key, which is always available to blot out our mistakes. Before this handy invention, writers used White-Out, the rubber eraser, and – until the late 1700s – moist, balled-up bread. Wouldn’t it be great if a similar invention existed for conversation? We’d never regret anything we said!
Humans have been exchanging information since 15,000 BC, so as a species we should be good at verbal communication. Individuals who captivate their audience with words are skilled at finding topics that act as currency for our attention. This is true for both oral and written stories.
How do your friends and family regard your abilities in these areas? Are you more able to write, or to talk about something that happened to you?
People want to hear our stories – we are continually asked for them: what we did with our day, the details of our vacations, how are jobs are going, what our childhood was like. Unless we communicate our stories, they end when we do.
One of my favorite writers, Anne LaMott, recounts a moment from her youth when her brother failed to finish his big science project on birds that had been assigned three months ago and was due the next day. Her father taught her panicked brother that he could still get it done. “Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.” Her book, Bird by Bird, details how this is a message for really everything in life. You have to begin and keep going.
This process works really well for storytelling. Imagine you want to write, or recount, the biography of someone’s life. Seems too large, almost impossible, doesn’t it? Until you find a way to create a process for narrative that consists of manageable parts, this kind of project will always seem too big.
I made it my mission a few years ago to help people with this endeavor. I teach a free Personal Legacy workshop at the library once a month (2nd Monday from 6-8 – but not June-August) aimed at getting people to write down their stories in any document-type they wish.
I have grandmothers making narrative photo/scrap albums for their grandkids, several people writing memoirs, one attempting a non-fiction book about an historic moment in history that he witnessed, another leaving directions about programming she created in a local business she’s retiring from, one grappling with his feelings about God and how to explain what he believes to others, one writing about a family illness, several writing letters to estranged relatives, a few working on obituaries, one cataloging his career, another setting the record straight on a relative’s life, and many writing the histories of family members.
How will you tell your story? One way is to create a personal legacy document, like those listed above. A personal legacy document is defined as any narrative that describes or explains a period of time in someone’s life. Here’s how I like to guide people through this process, step by step.
If you are unsure where to begin, it’s always a good idea to write about what you know. Start with yourself. Reflect on your own personal history, and write down every memory that comes to mind. Pay no attention to timeline, just make a list. The list can be as long or short as you’d like. It’s sometimes helpful to look at old photo albums to aid in your reflective journey. Start with your childhood and move through your life to the present. This is a dynamic memory list so it doesn’t matter if you forget something, you can add memories to it whenever you’d like.
When you’re done creating your list, re-read it and pick out the memory that feels like it would be the most fun to write about. Start there.
On a separate sheet of paper, brainstorm everything you can remember about that recollection. List the facts, but try to do more than that. Do you remember any dialogue? Write it down. It doesn’t have to be perfect. How about sensory input – smell, taste, sight, sound, and touch? Can you add details with these elements? Are there educational pieces that would bring clarity to the memory, like maps or photos?
Remember to include feelings, intentions, your temperament that day, and personal circumstances at that point in your life. Try to identify all the existing verbal and nonverbal communication going on at that moment. You are not creating a document here; you are brainstorming, so don’t worry about creating sentences. Get your ideas on paper in any manner that is functional to you.
Now, make three columns labeled: before, during, and after. These will help you to organize your memory into a timeline. Go through all the information you collected for that one memory and try to put each piece into one of these columns. For example, did my Grandmother let me taste the batter in her bowl during the cookie-making, or after? If it was during, it goes in that column.
This information is what you’ll use to construct the story of your memory. If you don’t have enough information in any of the three columns, go back to brainstorming and look harder at the situation. Try to show – and not just tell – the reader what happened. For example, “My brother called to say we needed to paint our parent’s house,” is a fact. “My arthritis was so painful that day, the thought of doing that plunged me into a funky mood,” is an illustrative detail.
We all know stories have a beginning, middle, and end. This is equivalent to the before, during, and after columns you’ve just created. Without even writing a sentence, you are already halfway through the creation of your story!
Take all the information in your “before” column, which represents the beginning of your story, and combine it into sentences. Remember writing is a process. What you put down on paper initially will not be perfect and you shouldn’t strive to make it so. Next, do the same for your during/middle and after/end columns. String them all together and your rough first draft is now complete.
Read it out loud to yourself. Note information or descriptions to add, and scratch out anything that doesn’t make sense. Rewrite to include omissions and additions, and make sure there are transitions and unity in your document so every sentence advances your story. Do this over and over until you are satisfied. If you are feeling brave, have a friend or relative read your memory story and offer a critique.
You can repeat this method any number of times as you work through your dynamic memory list.
As simplistic as this all sounds, I can tell you it works. The very hardest thing that prevents people from writing is beginning the process. Once you actually have something down on paper, it just gets easier to write about the “next bird.”
As far as project completion goes, that’s another story. Many of my workshop participants return every month. It helps them to feel accountable and less like they are writing in a vacuum. I invite you to join us in the fall. The next workshop will be held on September 9th, 6-8 PM in the Dandelion Cottage Room at Peter White Library.
Last Letters /No Regrets is a multi-faceted business devoted to words, their purpose, and application. Heather Mlsna is a professional writer and can be reached at lastlettersmqt@gmail.com or (906) 250-5769.