I flew to Pittsburgh this past week to help my mother move into an independent living facility. It was a lot of work and by the evening I was pooped and a little emotionally stressed. So, for a couple of nights I escaped to a local restaurant, saddled up to the bar, and ordered myself a much-appreciated drink.
At the Bar
I did what writers do best: I sat on a stool, sipped a drink and watched the people around me. There was the cute young couple across from me, snuggling up to each other, tasting each other’s food, privately chatting.There was another older couple adjacent to me, not talking much, or making eye contact but seemingly comfortable in each other's presence. Their focus was the food. I'm guessing they were the long-time, married couple. I wanted to know more about these people. What were their stories?
While I people-gazed, a gentleman sat down near me and struck up a conversation. I realized, in that quick moment, knowing I would probably never see him again, I could be anyone. I could lie about my age, my occupation, where I live, my marital status, even my story of why I was in Pittsburgh. It was a fleeting, freeing feeling to think about being anyone I wanted to be for a half hour. I could create a whole, new story!
Of course, ultimately, I was just me.
At My Desk
While away, I finished Anna Quindlen's memoir, Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake. Embedded in one chapter, Ms. Quindlen wrote about teaching her writing students to dig deeper and be more personal and transparent in their writing. She exhorted them to open up more and let people see who they really are, not the person they want to be.
Being vulnerable in our writing, allowing people to see our flaws, foibles, doubts, fears as well as joys and humor is a tricky line to walk, but one which adds readability, warmth, and depth to our writing.
It’s what I've strived to do in the Making the Leap posts, even though my natural tendency is to censor, delete, correct and create the person I want you to see.
I try to imagine you and I are sitting down across the table from each other. I’m sipping my tea, you are perhaps blowing the hot steam off your coffee cup and we are getting to know each other as writers, women and men, friends (I might be stealing a bite of your biscotti, but maybe you can pretend not to notice).
I recently read a book, very different from my usual reading genre, written by Dean Koontz titled, The Door to December. The book is a paranormal crime thriller. The essentials of the plot included a woman recovering from loss, a young daughter desperately in need of healing, and a tough, street-wise detective trying to protect them both in the face of supernatural odds that didn't make sense. In notes at the end of the book, Mr. Koontz reveals his belief that family and its unconditional love offer the ability to conquer even our worse fears and demons. It is a theme personally relevant and important to him and finds its way into many of his stories-- his feelings, needs and vulnerability give his stories their heart.
At Your Desk
How about you? Whether you write fiction or non-fiction, how do you let your vulnerability show? Do you try, as Ms. Quindlen urges, to dig deeper and get more personal with your writing? Do you, as Mr. Koontz did, tap into your own emotions to create a story? How much do you allow the true you to be seen in your writing?
When I think back to the books or blogs I most enjoy, the writers who most engage or touch me, I realize each author has allowed me to sit down and in their engaging voice, invited me to enjoy a cup of coffee and share their stories.
Keep writing,
Julie (the real me)
Mark-- I love your comments on these posts. They're always so thoughtful and I appreciate how you call on your own experience. Thank you. You bring out a good point of how we bring our passions and experiences to our writing and really, perhaps, it's completely unavoidable.
Someone said a recognition of one's ignorance is the beginning of wisdom. Or something like that. My point is that what I have to offer here is a reflection of my experience and is undoubtedly flawed to some degree.
That said, it seems to me that writing from a powerful place means writing that concerns itself with emotional hotspots that lie within us. We all have many, of course, and perhaps choosing (and having the courage to choose) is the difficult part. For me, discrimination and prejudice has long been a primary issue. I went to high school in the early 70's, when busing was new and race riots were raging. Police patrolled the halls, but mass fights still broke out regularly. It was a world-altering shock to learn first hand some of the black students' stories, to begin to understand the source of their anger, and on a visceral level. At about the same time, we all read To Kill a Mockingbird. Talk about synchronicity. And smart teachers.
Point is, I developed a deep-seated revulsion toward discrimination and prejudice. It's funny in that, too. Many of my friends became more racist as a result. Why I went the other way, I can't say. Perhaps being the classic pencil-necked geek may have been part of it :)
So, as writing became a stronger and more accessible outlet, the issue of prejudice has been a common theme. I am that issue, in a manner of speaking (as well as more). It's so endemic too - not just racial discrimination, but ethnic, sexual, and all manner (my nephew is gay and I rail against homophobes too). Yes, it's in-built that we're tribal beings, defenders of the clan, but we have to rise above it - and it's culture that teaches us this, that gives us the strength to go against our makeup (IMHO). When I decided to write my novel, I didn't have to look far for inspiration. If I could strike the kind of blow Harper Lee did, or John Steinbeck with Grapes of Wrath, that would be incredible. I went for it; I had the credentials. To have written anything else, at this point is my life, would hav been beside the point.
Cathy-- you are so right about life being too short to hide our true selves. I agree. How that translates in writing, I'm still figuring it out. I admire your declaration.
Julie,
"She exhorted them to open up more and let people see who they really are, not the person they want to be." It is so true that we all try to hide our true selves, because we are somehow afraid that if we actually do reveal who we are, no one will like us.
And yes some people may not like us. Some people may not like our writing, may not like our characters or stories, but I've realized, life is to too short to hide your true self.
Yes, I see what you mean now-- tapping into the passion, not necessarily barfing out all our stuff. Thank you for taking the time to answer my question and it confirms my thoughts in this post.
Hi Julie, I believe many writers are shy (so are many actors, they expose themselves behind a persona) and/or introverted and have a hard time exposing/expressing their emotions. But what I mean by the energy is that what is compelling to you comes from your own experience. I am haunted by violence because I was shocked when I saw the graves at Arlington, for example, and I can compost that emotion into a character or a scene. I think during writing practice, the more honest you can be, the deeper your writing will take you and that can then be infused into fiction. Writing about emotion is not just saying I was angry or I felt betrayed...it's the heat surging through your blood, clenched fists, the thrill up the spine, the dry mouth, the feeling that you might throw up...we show feelings through body language, dialogue, etc.
In terms of those who come to writing classes, almost everyone has some deep story of hurt that they need to get off their chest and the desire to write it may not even yet be conscious. They just know they want to write...
Thanks Kelly-- I love your examples and especially your own journey with this. I was hoping we'd hear how others work or worked through the process. It's so helpful. Thank you.
I think it's hard to write with emotional authenticity without drawing upon some our own experiences. I am reading March by Geraldine Brooks, and it is impressive how she creates such a compelling narrative on a framework provided by another novel (Little Women) and history (of Louisa May Alcott's family and social circle in Concord, Mass; Civil War history; etc.). Yet this is not just a work of the intellect, and she had to draw on other resources in telling her story. The first novel I wrote began with an idea, and I struggled to make the characters' motivations believable; when I tried again with a novel that emerged from my own emotional history, it was easier to build a fictional world with plausible characters. That does make me feel vulnerable, but I think it's a worthwhile trade-off.
That's what I've found too Diane. Strive for honesty.
It is tough to dig deep and express the contents of who we are in a character or in a form of writing, however I find that it helps me be honest to myself in my work.
Wendy, part of my background is in counseling and what I discovered is that so much of this ability or desire to reveal one's self is, in part, a factor of personality. Have you found that in your classes? I war with that myself. I strive to dig deeper and be more transparent, but I'm really not a emoting kind of gal.
This discussion has arisen in a class I am teaching. Do we have to write about ourselves? one student asked. I believe that in writng practice, writing about ourselves is a way to tap into the topics with the most energy and passion. But it is also a way to be broken open, which to me what makes the difference between great writing and ordinary writing, when something resonnates so deeply, it breaks open my heart or my mind (new perspective, aha! moment, or the writer expressed what I think and feel). To me, the way to access that is by allowing ourselves to break open when we write. Then transmute that into story....context, structure, characters, dialogue, etc. For me, how can we know the dynamic of another human being if we don't know ourselves? And yes, this makes us feel vulnerable and it takes courage and determination to keep going, and even more to share.
Mark-- I just have nothing to add. What you shared was beautiful and poignant and I hope people read your response. Thank you so much.
Excellent subject for discussion. When I posted my novel's summary on this site, I mentioned there are long stretches I can't read aloud. The reason is that my throat tightens so I can't speak; some of the protagonist's issues are mine, even though she's a 25 year-old, Jewish, anthropologist living in 1932 Berlin.
Write what you know, eh? I'm 56, not Jewish, an engineer, and I've not been to Berlin. Especially 1932 Berlin. But, what she fears most is being selfish, asking for what she needs, and disappointing people. This part, I know.
My parents recently vacationed with us and after my mother read the novel I told her about an incident when I was 12 or 13. She had told me, in her outside voice, that I was a very selfish person. I didn't tell her about this incident for any reason except to explain why my protagonist was built the way she is (she has another very good reason in the story for being unselfish that I don't have in my life). My mother wanted to apologize for what she'd said long ago, but I replied the point is I couldn't have written this story without that incident. So I thanked her.
There's really nothing in my novel, from a plot point of view, that has anything to do with my life (was that already obvious?). But from an emotional, psychological POV, my protagonist and others in the novel - as Whitman famously said about internal multitudes - are at least partly me. As such, I've been able to work on this story for more than six years, finish it once, and then re-envision and rewrite it entirely, and still look forward to sitting down with it each day as I polish its "final" draft. What I tell people is that even if it never sells, is never published, I will have a story I can read over and over again for the rest of my life, and it will reliably move me like nothing else I know. What more can one ask?
It's because I dove into those situations, those characteristics, and those foibles that define me. It won't be the last time.
Oh Nancy-- if I may put you on a pedestal for just a few moments. First, writing a memoir is one of those hazy dreams mocking me on my writing horizon. Second, that you were even self-aware enough to go back and delete the comments you didn't feel were authentic. Wow. And finally, you continue to do so knowing how hard and gut-wrenching it is. This is exactly the kind of writing to which I aspire. Thanks for sharing.
I think censoring yourself is a way to deaden your writing. Better to open up, be vulnerable, and risk someone's dislike than to try to appease everyone. It never works anyway.
On the other hand, you are allowed to hurt or ridicule yourself in your writing but not the others, at least in my opinion. If you think your story or memoir can hurt someone else, maybe it's better to refrain. Among writers, there is no consensus on this issue though. I read articles pro- and con-. Everyone must decide for herself.
Julie,
Your post really hit home with me. As a memoir writer I struggle with this one constantly. Had to stop and ponder your remark about whether or not I create, when I write, a picture of myself that I want the world to see. I must say I've been guilty of this and am making a concerted effort to change. It's hard though, when your trying not to censure your writing or not to constantly wonder how the reader will take what you've just revealed about yourself. Lately I did a re-write of an entire memoir and made a decision to delete all matter that I'd included solely to create an image of myself I approved of. It wasn't easy to do, but I somewhat pulled it off and intend to continue doing so in my writing. Thank you for getting me back on track.
Cheryl-- hey that's a great idea for writing prompts! I'm so glad you shared that idea.
Miranda--Thank you for telling me you find it incredibly hard too. I also want to censor and present an image and it doesn't work. Like you, I find people resonate more with my writing when I allow "me" to be seen. But I always feel like cringing a little when I put myself out there. After all, if someone doesn't like my writing, but I'm not invested in it, no harm, right? But if I open up in my writing and someone doesn't like it... Ouch.
Susie- Oh if we could sit down and have a cuppa. One of the reasons my attempt at a novel didn't work and won't work (at least as-is) is that it was too based on stuff in my own life. It would definitely hurt people if it was published. I put it away. Hurting people, even for the sake of truth, isn't my goal either. But I think if I wanted, I could put the same emotions I dealt with into a different situation so it wasn't so obviously pointing hurtful fingers. It is a tricky line to walk.
One of my projects for thet last five years is to read the World Book Encyclopedia from A to Z. I am on volume P now. After reading the entry, I reflect on the content and write my comments that may include my travel experiences, my childhood, current events, my family. Some of the comment are very revealing and show vulnerability, pain, sadness, disappointment and surprise...but it is all real.
My tendency is to put forth the face I want people to see: Sharpwitted, together brainiac. Or soemthing like that! It's partly my journalism training -- I try to be fact-based even when I have an opinion. However, whenever I write from the heart and expose myself even a little, or a lot, I get a much better response from readers, who often thank me for saying what they themselves often think or feel, and for revealing myself. My goal is to do this more and more, but it's incredibly hard.
I am currently struggling with this exact question. I am a non-fiction writer (no books, just articles and blogs) who touts herself as open and honest. BUT there are many deep and not so deep painful places that I do not feel free to write about because of the other people involved. How do you handle that? I am in a small community, been here for over 20 years, so of course my good and bad situations have happened HERE.
How can we be honest without hurting others?
Olga, congratulations again on your book. Very exciting. I love how you allow yourself to be vulnerable through your characters and allow yourself to be healed through them as well. Now that is courage.
Sunny-- When I saw your name on the comments, I was hoping you'd talk about your personal experience with your books. Thanks for sharing and I agree: I think readers are indeed smart enough to detect when a writer isn't being honest. I realize that means different things to different people.