Life Writing

So you've decided to tell your story and the story is personal. The story is your life.

You are writing your memoir and the mind goes blank. It's not as though the story isn't there - it clearly is - but you're not sure how to proceed, or the exact details of an event escapes you. Get ready to start digging through your life with these tips:

*  Stimulate the memory by going through old photos or listen to music from that particular time period. If you remember a certain scent, recreate that eg. scent of lemons or incense. (Our sense of smell is lodged in the oldest part of the brain, which makes it the most powerful and evocative way to capture a memory)

* Go through old journals or letters if you have them. A writing teacher of mine actually photocopied every letter she sent out in case it might be useful in her writing.

*  If possible (and appropriate) interview family members or friends who can provide their perspective on a particular event or time in your life.

*  If you don't already do it, keep a journal. Begin making journal entries that are descriptive and contain detail. This will get you in the habit of thinking of the events in your life in narrative terms. It has the added side effect of making you more observant in your daily life.

The First Draft is Your Playground

I was reminded, recently, that writing doesn’t have to be perfect with every sentence of a first draft. Or even the second draft. That’s why we use drafts – to play, to fit the pieces together, to test run.

One of the things I taught my creative writing students was the importance of simply getting the story out. Get it out on the page, don’t think, don’t blink, don’t stop. It doesn’t matter that the grammar and the tenses and the spelling is wobbly. It doesn’t matter if you want to write your first draft in one long twenty-page paragraph or by hand or in crayon for that matter. What matters is getting the story out of your head and onto the page. It’s a first draft and no one needs to see it but you.

* First thing to do is to simply begin. You can begin anywhere. Begin with the scene you keep playing in your head or with the quirky piece of dialogue that you keep repeating to yourself. Begin where the greatest action or drama takes place. Experiment: begin in the middle, begin in the end. Begin.


* Chuck perfectionism out of the window along with the grammar and spelling and paragraphing. Give yourself permission to make mistakes, to play and to enjoy the process.

* Keep going. It doesn’t matter how absurd you may think some of what you have written sounds. You don’t have to get your entire trilogy, pre-qual and spin-off written down in one sitting. Create realistic and comfortable pockets of time in which you can put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard.


* Resist the urge to edit-as-you-go. This slows you down and links you back into the mindset that everything has to be absolutely perfect, no matter what, before you can continue. If a revision is absolutely necessary because you feel you need to change the direction of the plot or the character, do only the necessary section, then move on.


* When you’re done, put your manuscript away. Don’t touch it, don’t look at it. Resist. Author Stephen King, in his book On Writing, reveals that he places his finished manuscript in a drawer and doesn’t look at it for six weeks. His reasoning behind this is that a break from the completed work is essential for the redrafting process. Putting the manuscript away and out of mind allows the writer to return to the piece with fresh eyes and a little distance, which makes the redrafting process that much easier.

Create freedom around your work. A bird cannot soar the skies if it is trapped in a cage. Open the door and set yourself free.

Starting from Scratch

When we say we are starting from scratch, we generally mean that we are going back to the beginning, starting from the first step again, or starting from nothing.

The origins of the phrase go back quite a way in history, and originally, the scratch referred to was a sporting term. It was any line scratched into the ground to represent a boundary or starting point. Scratch eventually came to denote the start point of a race.

The popped up in 'handicap' races where the not-so-strong or experienced entrants were given a head start. Those, starting from scratch, were in fact the stronger players, but were given no advantage.

In effect, if you’re starting from scratch, you’re starting behind the weaker runners, from less than an advantage.

And what, exactly has all this to do with this bright shiny and brand new blog?

Recently, through my own stupidity, I lost all the data on my hard drive: photos, video, documents. ALL GONE. And amongst those things lost are all my writings. Short stories, my half-way-done novel, poetry and my creative writing workshops.

I left the UK with a CD that was burned with all of these things “just in case”. Can I find the CD? No. Did I back any of my work up? Again, no. Can I blame anyone but me for this foolish loss? I think that would be a resounding NO.

Effectively, I am starting from scratch. I am starting behind everyone else. I am not going back to the beginning – I am going back to before there was a beginning.

Losing everything has made me consider that now is the time to explore new possibilities, new ways of doing things. Now is the time to take my own advice and ditch EVERYTHING I thought was true about writing and creativity and view things with a fresh pair of eyes and what the Zen Masters call “Beginner’s Mind”.

I realise that there was no loss at all, but a gift. The creative buttons have been reset.

The loss of the work – what I often referred to as “my life’s work” – is an invitation. Will you join me on this journey to recovering your creative self? To reclaiming your right to weave your own story through your art, no matter what form you choose it to take?

I accept the invitation. Do you?