writing memoir

I began a class on writing memoir yesterday.

The best part of this is that for the first time, I have "gone public".  I have joined a group of writers, most of whom thank goodness have about the same amount of writing experience. 

It felt good.  It felt good to meet others who yearn to express through the written word as I do.  It felt good to think about hearing their stories and perhaps to share a few of my own.  It feels good and scary to know that I am now on a timetable with a certain amount of accountability to others.

We are assigned the task of writing one story each of the eight weeks of class. 

This is really going to pick up my pace.

This means I am going to have to put my inner critic in timeout while I write.  I wonder about this as it seems to be my biggest obstacle to writing - the steel rod that holds me captive.

So far I have managed to waste my entire first day, thinking furiously about all of the things I could write without writing the first word.  I am feeling somewhat courageous at this point that I am here at least, that I am confessing.

But thinking about writing is not writing

Margaret Atwood says that "writing has to do with darkness, and a desire or perhaps a compulsion to enter it, and, with luck, to illuminate it, and to bring something back out to the light."

I certainly understand the darkness - the fear, the resistance.  I also understand the compulsion - the obsessive thinking, the circling, the short plunges into the darkness only to dart away again. 

Illumination is the hope, is my hope.

the snowflake method - step three, sort of

I started using The Snowflake Method with the usual exuberance that often comes with my new ideas.  I thought, "I will chronicle my use of The Snowflake Method, sort of like the movie Julie and Julia, and then I can build up a strong base of interested readers and eventually this will become a novel which can then become a movie, and ..."

As a writer, I am certain you are quite familiar with the fantasy, yes?

However ... by Step Two, I realized that I don't really like this kind of structure so much, and so I skipped it.

This morning, I determinedly decided to try Step Three which is to answer a series of questions regarding the motive, goal, conflict and epiphany of each character and then write a short one paragraph summary of each character.

I found the process somewhat painful, BUT it was also quite helpful.

I completely changed the motive and epiphany of my heroine.

I began to understand other main characters more completely.

I began imagining scenes and dialogues as I thought through the motives and conflicts of the characters.  These I wrote quick notes about as I am certain they will be explored later, in full detail, as part of this process.

I did NOT write a one paragraph summary of each character yet.  My mind began moving too fast to slow down and think with full sentences.  This is okay, because Step Four is to expand each sentence in the summary paragraph to a full paragraph.  I can do both of these at the same time, which I will do ... eventually.

I worry that I am being contrary and even worse, disrespectful to Mr. Ingermanson's Snowflake Method.
http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/snowflake.php

I don't mean to be.

I'm guessing that other writers maybe struggle with structure also, even though we all know it is important.  It is the same quirky resistance that often keeps me from befriending the unwritten page at all.  My way of getting through it is to bargain with myself, and in this case, Mr. Ingermanson. 

I wonder how others do it?

rejection

I received my first rejection.

I immediately called my good friend who is a poet, and her response was, "YAY!"

"Huh?"

"Your first one is over," she said.  "Make a file.  There will be more, a lot more."

She told me about a well-known author in the area who proudly displayed a whole box of rejection notices as a teaching tool in his creative writing class.  His point being that as writers, we must learn to be thick-skinned about rejection.

"Yes," I responded, thinking there is something very odd about this.

I wonder about a writing community that has learned to wear rejection like a badge of honor.  Is there some defense mechanism in this?  Display proudly so as not to be sad?  Cry?  Doubt?  Give up?

I feel disappointed.  I poured my heart into those 1200 hundred words, so much so that I wondered if there were any words left in the universe when I was finished.  Which of course I have since learned there are - plenty more - but that's another post.

I want to cry.  I am entertaining a certain amount of doubt ... actually a great deal of doubt.

But give up?

This is not an option.  I am beginning to understand after all of these years that a writer simply writes.  This is why after so many times of "quitting" for various reasons, I keep PICKING UP MY PEN AGAIN.

Later when I relayed the news to my husband. he said "GREAT!  You should frame it."

"Yes," I said but with less confusion.

I will frame it but not as a badge of honor.

I will frame it as a reminder that a writer writes, not because she wants to be published (though honestly she does ... so VERY much) but because she must write.

the snowflake method - steps one and three

Okay, I admit it.  I am struggling with The Snowflake Method.  There are too many rules.

There.  I said it.  I don't like rules very much.  I'm always trying to figure our how to get around them.  In a nice way, of course.

I did do Step One, which is to write one sentence that summarizes my novel.  Then I broke the rules again and wrote the second paragraph.  Then I had to do some research on the history of the setting.

Finally, I looked at Step Two - expand the one sentence summary to a full paragraph that describes the story set up, three major disasters, and the ending of the novel.

How in the world do I know that yet?  I only have a setting, the first two paragraphs and one character in mind so far!  This is where my knowledge of creating character and plot fails me.  I suppose I can try to think up some possible conflicts and a potential ending, but how can I really know what those are until I start writing and get to know my characters?

I realize I sound whiny right now, and I am.  Clearly I did not read ahead to learn what I was setting myself up for when I chose this method over others.

I do figure this writer, Randy Ingermanson, knows a little bit of what he is talking about, so of course I begin doubting myself, because the issue must be about some fault in me, which leads me to a whole host of other psycho-social issues that we won't go into here.

This is where I usually get stuck, and just stop writing.

My husband, Bill, pointed out this circular process I get myself into just this weekend.  I was telling him that I couldn't write because I am spending all of my time thinking about what kind of jobs I can do to support myself while I am writing.  He pointed out to me that when I was working and able to support myself, I couldn't write because I was always thinking about work. 

"Just write, babe."  This is his mantra to me.

Okay then.  Instead of quitting, I am just going to be okay with not doing Step Two just now.  Instead of quitting, I am going to move to Step Three which is to write a one page summary sheet of the major characters in the novel, including:

 • The character's name

• A one-sentence summary of the character's storyline

• The character's motivation (what does he/she want abstractly?)

• The character's goal (what does he/she want concretely?)

• The character's conflict (what prevents him/her from reaching this goal?)

• The character's epiphany (what will he/she learn, how will he/she change?

• A one-paragraph summary of the character's storyline.

This is a LOT of rules ...

I may choose another tack which I am learning many writers use which is to outline the first few chapters, write them and see which characters introduce themselves to me.

I really like this way better.  It suits my propensity to get around the rules, but I do recognize that discipline is a part of the writer's work, so I am going to give this Step Three a try.

It's going to be a looong, windy process, folks, which perhaps ... I hope ... is the point.

first steps and breaking rules

I've already broken the rules.  I have written the first sentence of my novel without outlining as The Snowflake Method recommends. 

Isn't that just how it goes.  The moment you commit to something solid - a method, a path, a choice - another part of you counters, tests, questions, and sometimes overrides your best laid plan.

It is a good first sentence.  It will grab the reader's attention, and it sets the tone for what I imagine the rest of my novel will say.  I woke up with the seed of it.  I washed dishes thinking about it.  I swept and mopped floors too.  Finally, I sat with the blank page until it came.

The first sentence of my novel.  It only took me about an hour to write it.

I am smiling and unashamed of my contrariness.

But I am not throwing the baby out with the bathwater.  I am still going to work on The Snowflake Method. 

Step One.  Take an hour and write a one-sentence summary of your novel.

i am going to write a novel

I am going to write a novel.

It will probably take me ten years to write it.

I'm being dramatic, both because I'm mainly a dramatic person and because I know nearly nothing about writing novels.

So I will just have to teach myself.

I have started researching this, and of course, there is a lot to learn on the internet about writing. I found one site that suggests The Snowflake Method to outline my novel. Apparently outlining a novel is key, though there seems to be a fair amount of folks who just sit down and write. I have tried just sitting down and writing and I often get lost, so I am going to try The Snowflake Method, designed by Randy Ingermanson, who calls himself, "The Snowflake Guy."

http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/snowflake.php

I think this is funny for some reason.  Maybe I am just giddy at the idea of committing to this process.

I am going to write a novel, really.

the steel rod - two

The steel rod returns.

I am caught like a spear-stabbed summer trout immobilized in its migratory path, words scattering, mind darkening to despair, fingers trembling above waiting keys.

I name this killer of creative pursuit and it releases a little, a small vibration as shoulders fall, chest muscles relax, and the heart opens.

And from the heart the words leak.

I want to cry with sheer relief at the curtailment of certain dread that nothing exists above the steel rod.

Meantime, my good friend writes at her school of fine arts, receiving encouragement and instructions, while I sit alone receiving lessons from only that which has no name.

I must press. There can always be edits. Always.

Another deep breath. The trout escapes with a wiggle and a thrash, swiftly swimming upriver, eager to tell the rest of the story.