“Our stories matter. We are all enriched, inspired and empowered when we share them.”My own words…
Winsome Campbell-Green is an author who has a passion for writing and inspiring people. I had the good fortune of meeting Winsome on LinkedIn. She is the author of six books, including: Ten Life Changing Lessons,The Secret Rules of Self-Love,The Perks of A Positive Attitude, Fabulosity is You, High Heels in Tech: Woman, Technology and Change and her latest release, Curb Your Thoughts:How to Create the Future You Need…
Author Winsome Campbell-Green
My reviews of her book, Ten Life Changing Lessons can be found on Amazon and Goodreads.
Ten Life Changing Lessons by Winsome Campbell-Green via Amazon
Today, I am honored to be interviewed by Winsome on her blogWomen Beauty Purpose and Empowerment where she “celebrates women of purpose who seek to empower the lives of others with their life experiences.”
She describes her Women of Purpose Facebook page as “ an organization for professionals, Christians, moms, wives, tastemakers and many more who are too unique to categorize.”
I am very pleased to feature Eleanor Vincent in Part One of this guest post interview about her memoir, Swimming with Maya.Eleanor and I met online in the NAMW Facebook forum. I was so impressed with her memoir of loving and letting go of her beloved daughter, Maya, I asked to interview her in a guest post.
Swimming with Maya demonstrates the remarkable process of healing after the traumatic death of a loved one. My book reviews can be found on Amazon and Goodreads.
This is Part One of the interview where Eleanor explores the themes in her memoir and shares the valuable lessons she learned from writing through her pain.
Welcome , Eleanor!
Memoir Author Eleanor Vincent
KP: You’ve written an honest and heart wrenching account of loving and letting go of your high-spirited daughter, Maya, in Swimming with Maya. When did you decide to share your story through a memoir? What is the main message you hope to convey to your readers?
EV: My message is simple: celebrate life. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Let the people you love know how much you love them. Life can be over in a moment. This is a truth we all try to defend against, but Maya’s sudden death at age 19 showed me that life could veer off in directions I had never imagined. When the unimaginable happens, how do we go on? This is the question Swimming with Maya attempts to answer. How do we get back up after life knocks us down? As a memoir, my book is a very personal account of one woman’s journey. It is not a self-help book, but it is inspirational and motivational because it shows how I became more resilient than I ever thought I could be. I decided to write about Maya’s death just days after she died. I instinctively knew her death would completely reshape my life and that I had to write about it.
That said, I should note that I had been writing professionally for more than two decades when she died. In addition, I was working on my MFA in creative writing at Mills College at the time. I was well equipped to take on what turned into a ten-year effort.
KP: I was able to relate to your memoir on several levels—as a mother, as a single parent and as a health care provider. Your intimate portrayal of your decision to donate Maya’s organs seems to be a central theme. But you also weave in several other layers to the narrative, including your past relationships, your current relationship with your surviving daughter, the special bond you and Maya shared. How did you decide on what to include in this narrative?
EV: That was a gradual process. At first, I just wanted to tell the story of Maya’s death and my decision to donate her organs and tissues. I never intended to go so deeply into my own past, my family, or my marriages and relationships. But readers in my workshops at Mills and then in my writing group kept asking hard questions about why the narrator made the choices she did as a parent. I quickly realized I would need to divulge much more personal material in order to write a believable narrative and create myself as a character in that narrative – one of the hardest tasks facing the memoirist.
Everyone’s life has a level of complexity. Because of my family background and my own subsequent attempts to cope with the dysfunction I observed as a child through therapy and spiritual work, my life has been extra complex. To understand the character of the mother/narrator in Swimming with Maya, the reader needs this information. I think our stories often ask more of us than we originally intend to divulge. In the end, I gave my all to the story, including creating a portrait of my own flaws and strengths as a human being.
KP: It seemed that Maya’s death prompted you to reexamine your role as a mother. What lessons have you learned in writing your memoir that you would like to share with your readers?
EV: I learned a lot about what it means to be a mother – and a lot more about how to write a compelling narrative. On the mother front, I always knew that being the mother of two daughters, Maya and Meghan, had been the most important shaping force in my life. Being motivated to be a good mother, a loving mother, caused me to reexamine and change many things about myself, including the painful process of going back and looking at the gaps in the mothering I had received.
But when Maya died, my heart and my ego shattered. Then I understood viscerally how very attached I was to my daughter – how fundamental she had become to my sense of self. I think most parents project their dreams and aspirations onto their children. Until you lose one, you do not realize the extent of this. Losing Maya forced me to grow into the person I wanted to be all along– a more loving, more compassionate, more resilient, and more trusting (paradoxically!) person. And it made me a far better writer. It also made me a much better mother to my surviving child, Meghan.
Even now, 21 years after her death, Maya continues to influence me. I am a better grandmother because of her. I enjoy my 3-year-old granddaughter Lucia more, and I’m motivated to spend more quality time with her, to be deeply involved in her life day to day, because I know what it means to lose a child. And honestly, Lucia reminds me of Maya. She has a lot of her spunk and creativity. I would not miss a minute of this!
Maya at 19
To be continued…
Thank you , Eleanor, for sharing how your devastating loss helped you reshape your life and go on. You show us what resilience and courage look like.
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Author Bio and contact information:
Eleanor Vincent is an award-winning writer whose debut memoir, Swimming with Maya: A Mother’s Story was nominated for the Independent Publisher Book Award and was reissued by Dream of Things press early in 2013. She writes about love, loss, and grief recovery with a special focus on the challenges and joys of raising children at any age.
Called “engaging” by Booklist, Swimming with Mayachronicles the life and death of Eleanor’s nineteen-year-old daughter, Maya, who was thrown from a horse and pronounced brain-dead at the hospital. Eleanor donated her daughter’s organs to critically ill patients and poignantly describes her friendship with a middle-aged man who was the recipient of Maya’s heart.
Her essays appear in the anthologies At the End of Life: True Stories about How we Die (edited by Lee Gutkind); This I Believe: On Motherhood; and Impact: An Anthology of Short Memoirs. They celebrate the unique and complicated bonds between mothers and daughters, making hard decisions as a parent – whether your child is 14 or 40 – and navigating midlife transitions with grace and authenticity.
Eleanor was born in Cleveland, Ohio and attended the University of Minnesota School of Journalism and received an MFA in Creative Writing from Mills College, where she occasionally teaches writing workshops on creative nonfiction and memoir.
She lives in Oakland, California. Visit her website at www.eleanorvincent.com or connect with her author page on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/eleanorvincentauthor
How about you? Has writing through grief helped you learn more about yourself?
Eleanor has agreed to give away a copy of her memoir, Swimming with Maya, to a commenter whose name will be selected in a random drawing.
We’d love to hear from you. Please leave your comments below~
Announcement: Congratulations, Carol Bodensteiner! Your name was selected in a random drawing of commenters to receive a copy of Grace Peterson’s memoir, Reaching.
Thursday, 8/1: From Grief to Healing, Part Two. Eleanor will explore how writing her memoir helped her to heal.
“The authentic self is the soul made visible.” Sarah Ban Breathnach
I am very happy to feature writer ,artist and host of #JournalChat Dawn Herring in this guest post. Dawn and I met on Twitter when she invited me to her weekly #journalchat on Twitter (Thursday 2 pm PDT), a delightful and enlightening weekly exchange about all things journaling. If you are interested in journaling, you will enjoy this Twitter chat.
Welcome, Dawn!
Author and Journal Writer Dawn Herring
Authentic Voice
“I knew it was you! I recognized your voice.”
Whether we’re talking on the phone, leaving a message or calling out to a friend we’re meeting for lunch, people often know us by our voice.
Certain vocalists or talk show hosts or teachers we hear are often recognized by voice because their voices have a distinct quality that sets them apart.
Voice through text has the same possibilities especially if we’ve read something an author has written before. The tone, the word choice, the style of writing speaks to their natural, authentic voice.
And in some ways, when we hear or read an authentic voice, recognizing the value and elements that resonate, it speaks directly to our own.
But how do you know when you have found yours?
Whether you’re writing a memoir, poem or essay, or talking to a friend, speaking to an audience, or even singing a song, you know when you’ve discovered the voice that is authentic to you, your personality, your preferences and your purpose.
It carries a certain timber; it reflects your values; it speaks your heart with honesty and candor.
And all of this comes with practice.
A suggested practice approach is journal writing; if you journal every day, it will help you hone your voice, whether written or spoken.
The following ideas may resonate and feel relevant to discovering your authentic voice:
Practice lines of poetry or song lyrics or borrow from a song that resonates with your heart. Then speak or sing them.
Write dialogue from a conversation you had with a friend that held great meaning for you. Apply what you’ve written to a scene for memoir.
Describe an unexpected conflict or challenge in detail, whether yours or someone else’s; determine the possible trigger of this conflict and what changes should be made in reference toward resolution. Pay close attention to any intuitive senses you pick up which will speak to your authenticity.
Express your opinion on a topic that resonates with you either because it makes you laugh, cry or even rage.
Use an image you’re drawn to as a prompt for written or emotional exploration to dig deeper into the soul; ask yourself its meaning for you right now, what it reminds you of and why.
Ask yourself a question that has been nagging at you and determine an answer that reflects your authentic values.
You may be surprised with your journal writing discoveries as you tap into the Real You. Give yourself the time, space, and approach that opens your understanding and enables you to validate your emotions and feelings and nurture your soul in the process.
When you’re getting started with finding your authentic voice, you can learn by noting written or vocal voices of others and determine what sets their song, speech, essay or memoir apart from the rest.
This will help you determine, with contrast, what makes your voice authentic to you no matter how you exercise it.
Whether in word, image, or song, Your Authentic Voice will shine as you gain a fresh perspective on your story and point of view and give space for expression that comes from the heart.
Thank you Dawn for showing us how journal writing can help us to find our authentic voices. It is an important reminder that we need to keep practicing through writing prose, poetry or song to be able to hear our own voices and know they are true.
Author’s Bio
Dawn Herring is a writer, artist and host of #JournalChat Live for all things journaling on Twitter. Her thematic focus is on journal writing, refreshment, positive change and personal empowerment. She has been published in her local city newspaper and in newsletters and on websites and blogs featuring journal writing and self-care. She publishes her weekly Refresh Journal for a fresh perspective in all of life dimensions. She is the author of The Birthday Wall: Create a Collage to Celebrate Your Child, a how-to on creating visual collage to celebrate your child’s birthday, a family tradition she keeps with her daughters and grandboy. She offers private Refresh Sessions to help you discover Your Authentic Refreshment. Her blog is Refresh with Dawn Herring: For a Fresh Perspective and her website is dawnherring.net. Her Twitter is @JournalChat and@DawnHerring. Her Facebook is JournalWriter Freelance where #JournalChat Pick of the Day and Pick of the Week are featured. She always reminds folks not to forget to refresh themselves.
The Birthday Wall by Dawn Herring
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How about you? Do you recognize your authentic voice ? How did you find it?
We’d love to hear from you.
Please leave your comments below~
Dawn has agreed to give away a copy of her e-book, The Birthday Wall: Create A Collage to Celebrate Your Child to a commenter whose name will be selected in a random drawing.
Monday, 7/15: A reblog of “My Authentic Refreshment Interview” from Dawn’s blog
Wednesday, 7/17: WOW! Women on Writing Book Tour: Review of the memoir, Betty’s Child by Donald Dempsey
I am very pleased to feature Memoir Author Mary Gottschalk in this guest post on how memoir writing is similar to fine wine. Mary and I met in Sonia Marsh‘s Gutsy Indie Author Facebook Group. Mary explores the many life lessons she learned while writing her memoir and explains why it took 20 years to do so.
Like fine wine, memoirs need to age to perfection.
In her memoir, Sailing Down the Moonbeam, Mary uses her sailing adventures as a metaphor for telling her story. My reviews can be found on Amazon and Goodreads.
Welcome , Mary!
Author Mary Gottschalk
Fine Wine and Memoir Writing
I have often been asked why it took me 20 years to write Sailing Down the Moonbeam, a memoir of my journey when I abandoned my New York City career to cruise around the world in a sailboat. After all, I had a stack of journals with daily entries covering virtually every day of the nearly three years on board. How hard could it be?
Very hard, as it turns out. I did indeed write a “memoir” during the year after the voyage ended. That first effort, documenting places I went and things I saw, felt flat and without a point. In writing that first memoir, I didn’t yet appreciate why the sailing journey mattered.
What Happened — The Illusion of Control
At age 40, I had a big job in a big city, with all the markers of success … two cars, a country house, millions of frequent flier miles.
I didn’t feel successful. Most of the time, I lived in a constant state of anxiety, exhausted from the effort of trying to keep life from flying apart. I worried about everything … satisfying my clients … whether my staff got the client report completed on time … if I’d catch a taxi in time to get to my next meeting.
What happened on the sailing voyage was that I discovered—that gut level, pit-of-the-stomach sort of discovery—that control is illusion. I began to see sailing as a metaphor for life itself. You can’t control your environment. You can set a goal, but your progress towards that goal depends on the winds and the currents … and you often end up somewhere quite different from where you set out to go. In sailing as in life more generally, you may be able to control the next decision you make, but you can’t control the outcome of that decision.
It was a powerful insight. I decided that even if I couldn’t control my life, I could avoid being trapped by others’ expectations. At the very least, I would spend it doing something I was passionate about.
Why It Mattered — Stepping Outside Your Comfort Zone.
Moments of insight were not new in my life. Over the years in New York, I’d attended many workshops on personal development. Invariably, I came away from those confabs determined to do better. Stop being a control freak. Be more patient. Listen more carefully. Don’t make snap judgments. The list of ways I wanted to improve was nearly infinite.
None of those insights had any lasting impact, as I remained a prisoner of the unspoken assumption that I’d feel more successful—that I’d spend less time worrying—if I did a better job of meeting people’s expectations. Each time I returned to the real world, confronted by the same all-too-familiar expectations and challenges I’d had before the workshop, I fell right back into the same bad habits, born of trying to direct people and things that were not mine to control.
That insight at sea was different, as Mother Nature has no expectations. Since it didn’t matter where we were on any given day, there was no reason to worry if the weather delayed our arrival or our departure by a few days. I didn’t have to worry about the dinner menu since my options were limited to what was in the larder. And there was no point in worrying about violent storms, whales, or freak waves, as I couldn’t do anything about them until they were hard upon us.
Then too, I had three years to learn another way of doing things. Three years to grow accustomed to making decisions for myself, instead of responding automatically to the expectations of my mother or my boss or my neighbor. Three years to learn how much more I could accomplish—how much more content I felt—when I wasn’t worrying about what to do or when to do it. Three years in which to develop new habits to replace the ones I’d wanted to break in my New York City days.
When I returned to the corporate world—the point at which I wrote that first memoir—I was concerned that this nautical insight, like the earlier ones, would be decimated on the altar of the everyday.
In fact, this time it was different. I was no longer a prisoner of other peoples’ expectations. I had grown accustomed to a worry-free existence. I refused to take on projects that did not interest me. If I took on a challenging project, I was no longer afraid to admit the gaps in my knowledge or ask for help. I was no longer afraid to tell my boss that his deadline was unrealistic.
Conclusion
The answer to the “20 year” question is that the story I wanted to tell wasn’t over the day the voyage ended. The most important insight of all—the why it mattered—came only after I’d been back at work for enough years to see the results of that different mindset.Not only was I more successful, professionally and financially, than I’d been before the sailing journey, but now I also felt successful. I was making a difference. I was doing things I loved. It felt wonderful.
Today, as I read the flurry of memoirs that come to market, I wonder how many of the authors have tried to tell their story before they knew how it ended.
Like fine wine, memoir writing requires suitable aging, enough time for the events to ferment and the essence of the insights to come through.
Photo Credit: Wine by LMRitchie uploaded from Flickr Creative Commons
Thank you Mary for sharing your insights about the memoir writing process and for showing us the importance of giving ourselves time and distance to allow our stories to “age to perfection” like fine wine.
Sailing Down the Moonbeam book cover
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Mary C Gottschalk Bio:
Mary has made a career out of changing careers. She spent nearly thirty years in the financial markets, working as an economist, a banker and a financial consultant to major corporations. She has worked in New York, New Zealand, Australia, Central America, Europe, and amazingly, Des Moines, Iowa.
Along the way, she dropped out several times. In the mid-1980’s, Mary embarked on the multi-year sailing voyage that is the subject of her memoir, Sailing Down the Moonbeam. Twice, she left the world of high finance to work with the nonprofit community, first in New York and later in Des Moines.
In her latest incarnation, she defines herself as a writer. She is working on her first novel, writes for The Iowan magazine, and lectures on the subject of personal risk-taking.
Mary is on several non-profit boards, including the Des Moines A.M. Rotary
“Real courage owns up to the fact that we face a terrifying task, admitting that we are appropriately frightened, identifying sources of help and strength outside and within ourselves, and then going ahead and doing what needs to be done.”
Finding freedom from domestic abuse is a theme in my memoir-in-progress and the topic in this discussion with Pam Richards. We both believe that increasing awareness of domestic abuse prevention may help others who may feel trapped in abusive relationships.
We explore the role faith played in our experiences in honor of National PTSD Awareness Month 2013. This post is adapted from the original interview on Pam’s site,Candle to the Sun in 2/2013.
Q: Was there a moment when you knew you would come forward with your story?
Kathy: It took many years of writing before I decided to share my story of abuse. I think abuse comes in many forms and while I did not incur bruises or broken bones, I subjected myself to years of mental and emotional abuse at the hands of two different husbands. The key for me was not establishing healthy boundaries for myself and relying on the other person to change. I hadn’t found my voice. When I felt physically threatened by my second husband, I escaped in the middle of the day with my two children. It wasn’t until after I left my second husband that I fully realized I had subjected myself and my children to not just one but two abusive relationships. That was in 1989. When I started writing a memoir in 2000, it was to be about dealing with my alcoholic son. As I wrote, I realized that I couldn’t tell his story until I told my own. The theme that has emerged in 2013 is one of the consequences of not embracing your inner voice that tells you something is not quite right.
Pam:Singing from Silence began as a very personal project. It gave me a way to explain to Richard why I couldn’t get in touch with him at the end of his life. I’d never had a chance to tell him what was going on with me while he was alive. When he died, I had so many unresolved feelings. I threw myself into writing both the parts of the story he knew, and the parts he’d never heard–the things no one else could tell him because they were my own perspectives. I was uncertain about what to do with the book until I asked for his decision. It became clear to me that he would have wanted me to publish. That’s when I knew I would bring it out, regardless of the personal cost to me.
2) Can you describe what catalyzed your commitment?
Kathy: In both cases, the welfare of my two children was an overriding concern that guided me out of two abusive relationships. Though it seemed to take much longer than, in retrospect, I wished it had taken, I was able to extract myself from both marriages before any more damage was done.
Pam: Not long ago, a woman I know was threatened by a domestic partner. He threatened to take one of his guns and kill her, himself, and two of her family members. I was with her when she showed the text message to police, when she filed the paperwork for a restraining order, and when she went before a judge and got her temporary order. And I was with her just a few weeks later, when she learned he’d carried out his threat of suicide. It was a tragic loss, but thankfully no one else was harmed. I prayed with gratitude that God has put her on the path of peace, and kept her and her family out of harm’s way.
Ever since then, I can’t consider staying silent when I know so many lives are at stake, and that God has a place for all of us in his plan. With Richard, I will sing for the meek.
3) What role did your faith in God play in ending your abusive situation?
Kathy: I always had a faith in God and yet, it wasn’t until I was a single parent with two school-aged children after my first divorce that I found God in a personal way. However, I must have lost sight of that connection, for a few years after, when I met my second husband, I seemed to be driven by a need to be an intact family again rather than guided by faith. It turned out to be at a steep cost.
Pam: I finally figured out that God’s grace applied to my hopeless marriage. I was trying to live by the letter of the law, and it had never worked. I felt I really needed God’s forgiveness to end my marriage and get my children out of danger. Once I accepted that grace, I knew I was on the path God wanted me to follow.
4) What was the single most important factor in getting to safety?
Kathy: First, awareness and acknowledgement that you are indeed in an abusive situations (denial can play a big role as it did for me) and need to get out and second, develop a support system and an escape plan ahead of time. Have your bags packed. This can only happen when you admit you’ve made a mistake and need to act on your fears . Also, you need to love yourself enough to want something better for yourself. Again, listen to, honor and embrace your inner voice.
Pam: For me, it was having a friend–just one–who believed in me and helped me face the red tape needed to carry out my safety plan.
5) What would you say to someone who is going through what you went through?
Kathy: Don’t put up with unacceptable, hurtful behavior, whether it be mental, emotional or physical. The first time another person violates your boundaries, take action to protect yourself. No excuses and don’t listen to their excuses. Do not accept unacceptable behavior from anyone. Ever.
Pam: Forget your reputation. Don’t worry about the lies people are inclined to tell about you: just tell your truth as only you know it. Ultimately, Jesus is the truth, and he sets us free. If you have made every effort on your part to make peace in your home and your community and it’s still not working, then recognize that some things are beyond your control. God gave me a great gift when he taught me that inner peace is actually within our control. Almost nothing else is.
Learn to prioritize the peace within your heart that no one can take from you. There is no better family name than child of God, no better reputation.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.”
6) What safety measures would all of us be wise to follow?
Kathy: As I mentioned earlier, establishing a support system of family, friends, community agencies with phone numbers, safe places to go. Most important, do not isolate yourself. Seek counseling if you find yourself in an abusive relationship to understand your own role in attracting and allowing abusive people in your life.
Pam: Know the high-risk factors. Stop denying it–those conditions mean you’re in trouble. Have a safety plan. Follow it!
7) How do you look at life and God differently now than you did before you experienced an abusive relationship? Kathy: With counseling, faith, supportive friends and family, I have been able to see my role in allowing abusive relationships and to forgive myself for subjecting myself and my children to unacceptable behavior. I am very grateful that I was able to extract myself from two abusive marriages and learn from my mistakes. In finding my voice, I found a life of joy, peace and gratitude. I finally feel deserving of all the gifts God wanted for me all along. It is very empowering for I know I am in charge of my choices.
Pam: Rich Mullins was a very introspective person, and through my friendship with him, God taught me the value of examining myself and challenging myself to grow. The experience of my failed marriage has opened me up to the need to keep growing, and never to expect to ride on a plateau of self-satisfaction in my personal growth.
I learned that we may think we’re making peace by escaping conflict or avoiding it, but nothing is further from the truth. Conflict postponed is conflict multipled. Sometimes despite our efforts, the resolution of conflict is outside of our control. When our safety is compromised, that must be addressed immediately. But unresolved inner conflict can still entangle us and steal peace from our hearts. We may even begin to want to retaliate. It may take time, but instead we need to let go of those injuries which are outside of our control so we can find peace within.When we do, we can begin to see that jealously, or abuse, or lying, or gossip are universal human ills. We don’t have to take them personally.
There is no personal battlefield unless we ourselves march onto it with weapons in hand.
God wasn’t on the beach, watching a mountain sunrise, or dreaming by a babbling brook when he said those words he spoke. He was on a battlefield:
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
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Pam Richards is the author of Singing from Silence, the story of her friendship with creative genius Rich Mullins, in which she shares the back stories of many of his well-loved songs. Which of his songs centered on the topic of domestic abuse? That would be Richard’s song for the meek, “I Will Sing.” She claims she’s not a great singer, so she intends to find ways to go on giving a voice to the meek in her own way.
Singing From Silence by Pam Richards
I am a contributor to The Woman I’ve Become, in which 37 women share their journeys from toxic relationships to self- empowerment. Currently, I have two memoirs-in-progress. The working titles are: #1 Choice and Chances: A Jagged Journey to Self and #2 Hope Matters: A Memoir of Faith. Choices and Chances opens with my escape from my second husband due to fear of physical abuse. It chronicles my journey up to that point through a previous failed marriage. It is about finding my voice.
The Woman I’ve Become Anthology
How about you? Have you ever found yourself in an abusive situation? Do you have any lessons to share or words of advice for others?
We’d love to hear from you. Please leave your comments or questions below~
Announcement: Congratulations to Barbara Techel. Your name was selected in a random drawing to receive Karen Levy’s memoir, My Father’s Garden!
This Week: I’m over at Dawn Herring’s blog with a guest post interview on “Authentic Refreshment.” Hope you’ll stop by there, too.
Next Week: Lifewriting Teacher and Author Sharon Lippincott will discuss “From Blog to Book.” She will give away a copy of writing book, The Heart and Craft of Writing Compelling Descriptions to a random commenter.
I am very happy to feature Carol Bodensteiner in this guest post on why mundane matters in memoir writing. Carol and I met through Sonia Marsh’s Gutsy Indie Publisher Facebook group .
When I read her memoir, Growing Up Country:Memories of an Iowa Farm Girl, I was mesmerized by her ability to weave such a delightful tale from her day-to-day life on a farm. I asked Carol to describe how she turned mundane into magic in her memoir.
“Sorry, but no. We need a character in conflict.” That’s what I heard from publishers when I sent out the manuscript of my memoir, a collection of stories about growing up on a family farm in the middle of the country, in the middle of the 20th Century. If I wasn’t running with sharp tools or dusting off ashes, my collection of everyday stories was deemed not commercially viable.
Because I was one of the lucky ones who had a happy childhood, there simply was no character in conflict.I was left wondering if my memoir could be successful, if anyone other than my mother would read it. I gulped and elected to publish independently, prepared for Growing Up Country: Memories of an Iowa Farm Girl to wind up being what it started out to be – a reminiscence of the mundane events that comprised my childhood, a collection of stories about my family, of interest to only my family.
Imagine my surprise and delight when time and again readers thanked me for writing these simple stories. They told me things like: “You told my story,” “You could have been living in our house,” “I’ve thought about writing about my life, but now I don’t need to; your stories are my stories!”
In the course of doing countless book talks at libraries, for book clubs, women’s groups, and bank clubs, I’ve become an advocate for preserving everyday stories. Most of us don’t spend our lives climbing Mount Everest or finding a cure for cancer. Most of us spend our days getting food on the table, getting the kids off to school, doing the laundry, earning an honest living. We live good, simple lives, and here’s the thing: Those good, simple lives are valuable. These simple, everyday actions bind us together as human beings, as a society.
When I ask my audiences if they’ve written or thought about writing their own stories, invariably someone will say something like, “I couldn’t write a book. I haven’t done anything special. Nobody would care.” I encourage them to write their stories regardless. Maybe the stories will be just for them, helping them put some meaning to their own lives. More likely, those stories will mean everything to a child or grandchild. Some might even make it to book form. If writing is beyond them, I suggest telling the stories into an audio or video recorder or simply sitting with someone in their family and talking.
I give tips to trigger memories:
Go back to the place they grew up. Place triggers powerful memories
Look at old pictures. But I urge them to be like Paul Harvey and go beyond who’s in the picture to tell “the rest of the story.” Why do they like that particular picture so much? What does that picture remind them of?
Play music from the time.
Stroll through an antique storeand see what stories pop to mind.
When they do write, I urge them not to worry about grammar or sentence structure or spelling or how long it is. Just write.Write the first thing that comes to mind and then write what that makes them think of, because one memory leads to another. Always.
The genesis of my memoir was talking with my parents about their lives. The jobs Dad had during the Depression. Mom’s experiences teaching in one-room schools. How it was to start their farming lives on a farm with no electricity and no indoor plumbing. Each story they told, triggered a memory in me. Those memories became my memoir.
During book talks, I tell a few stories of our farm but leave plenty of time for the audience members to talk. Because it’s the same for my audiences as it was for me. One memory leads to another. All I have to do is toss a traumatic chicken story into the crowd and watch the memories fly!
When I wrote my stories, I was writing my life. Little did I know I was also writing for others who grew up in rural areas. In writing my mundane stories, I affirmed their lives.
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Thank you , Carol for sharing how your everyday memories became your memoir and for showing us how storytelling helps us all to connect with one another. You have turned the mundane into magic!
Carol Bodensteiner – Bio
Carol Bodensteiner is a writer who finds inspiration in the places, people, culture and history of the Midwest. After a successful career in public relations consulting, she turned to creative writing. She writes regularly for The Iowan magazine www.iowan.com blogs about writing, her prairie, gardening, and whatever in life interests her at the moment at www.carolbodensteiner.com She published her memoir GROWING UP COUNTRY in 2008 as a paperback and as an ebook in 2011. She’s working on her first novel, historical fiction set during World War I.
Growing Up Country: Memories of an Iowa Farm Girl is available in paperback and ebook forms from Amazon
GROWING UP COUNTRY book cover
How about you? What everyday memories can you resurrect that can turn into a memoir? What magic can you weave out of the mundane?
We’d love to hear from you. Please leave your comments below~
Carol has graciously offered to give a copy of her memoir to a commenter whose name will be selected in a random drawing.
Announcement: Congratulations to Rhonda Baker, Nancy Stephan and Debbie Pierce. Your names were selected in a random drawing to receive free e-books version of Pubslush’s debut title, a beautiful mess by Ali Berlinski!
Next Week: “A Tribute to a Father’s Love: A Memoir Moment”
” All that I am or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” Abraham Lincoln, sixteenth president of the United States.
Mother’s Day has come and gone and I feel blessed that I shared it with my own mother this year. She lives 200 miles away but I managed to convince her to come for a two-week visit and she agreed.
Mom is 90. She still lives in her own home of 57 years, goes to the local senior center for Zumba classes twice a week, volunteers at the local food bank and visits the “elderly” in the neighborhood.
Truth be told, I have a hard time keeping up with her.
Mom getting ready for the “Pie & Glove 5k” in 2012 where she placed 3rd in the 70+ division. Even grandpuppy, Sadie, looks on in amazement.
When my husband Wayne and I walk through her front door after a four-hour trip to visit her, the pungent aromas wafting from the kitchen entice us to walk right over to the oven where steaming trays and pans reveal the delicious meal that awaits us. No matter how many times we offer to take her out or make the meal, she insists on preparing a feast.
Is it any wonder that hunger strikes as soon as any of us steps foot into her home?
My three siblings and I look on in gratitude for how well she is doing and how fortunate we are to still have her with us. Her ten grandkids call her “Grambo”, her four great-grandkids call her “GiGi”, and her four kids call her amazing.
We all know things can change in a heartbeat. That makes our time with her now all the more precious.
When my dear father died in November of 2010, she lost the love of her life. We didn’t know how she would handle not having Dad around. Married for 67 years, they were high school sweethearts who were genuinely devoted to one another for their entire married lives. My siblings and I are the beneficiaries of their love and devotion. It wasn’t that they never had problems or disagreements; it was how they always seemed to work together to make it work.
How do you let go of a love like that?
Dad & Mon at their 67th wedding anniversary celebration two months before Dad died, 2010
After Dad died, I noticed she started writing notes to him on pieces of scrap paper stuffed inside the books or magazines she was reading. Here’s a short excerpt ,with Mom’s permission, from 11/28/2011:
” My Darling,
Yesterday marked a very sad and memorable day. One whole year of being without you. I miss you more now that time goes on. We both didn’t realize what a beautiful relationship we had…”
With all my love and memories,
Kay”
So I bought her a journal with a pastel vintage print cover and a pink rhinestone clasp. Now she writes to her “Prince” updating him on family events and pouring out her thoughts and feelings.
Mom’s journal
One day during her visit, I saw her on the front porch, deep in thought, as she wrote in her journal:
Mom journaling to her “Prince”
She writes when she’s happy. She writes when she’s sad and lonely. She shares her longings and frustrations.
I know she has bad, sad, lonely days like we all do but the journaling helps her to honor the love they shared and move on.
***
Mom has taught me so many life lessons that guide me through each day, not the least of which are:
Unconditional love…”I’ll always be in your corner.”
Boundaries…” If you don’t respect yourself, no one else will respect you”
Grace in the face of loss…” What will be , will be. Accept it and move on.”
Faith...” Your faith will get you through.”
Coping… “ A nice, hot bath can cure just about anything.”
This poem written and read by my daughter, Leigh Ann for my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary (1993) sums up the circle of love Mom nurtured in our family:
I Love You Because…
I love you for who you are because you are you and
that’s what makes you special.
When you laugh, I love you because you make me laugh.
When you’re sad, I love you because I hate to see you sad.
When you’re around, I love you because my heart opens for you.
When we’re apart, I love you because when I think of you, I smile.
Never forget, I will always love you
because you have taught me to love.”
Love,
Leigh Ann
11/92
Leigh Ann with “Grambo” after completing a marathon in her Grandpa’s memory, 2011
Thank you, Mom, Grambo, Gigi. You are a treasure and we love you!
Your circle of love ripples out from you to all of us.
You have taught us all how to love.
How about you? What lessons have you learned from your mother?
I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please leave a comments below~
Announcement: Congratulations to Susan Weidener. Your name was selected in a random drawing to receive a copy of Nancy Stephan’s memoir, The Truth About Butterflies.
“Kindness is more important than wisdom, and the recognition of this is the beginning of wisdom.”Theodore Isaac Ruben, MD One to One.
I am very happy to feature Memoir Author Nancy Stephan in this guest post on Narrative Medicine. We met online. Nancy is the author of The Truth About Butterflies,a poignant story about the death of her beloved daughter, Nicole. My reviews are on Amazon and Goodreads. Nancy worked in health care as a nurse for 18 years before pursuing her degree in creative writing.
Welcome , Nancy!
Memoir Author Nancy Stephan
Narrative Medicine, defined as the intersection of medicine and the humanities, is not a new concept.Artists, writers, patients, physicians and caregivers have been combining literature and medicine for as long as people and the arts have existed.
Thanks to Dr. Rita Charon, the founder of narrative medicine, this intersection has been formalized.The roads have been paved, and street signs have been put up. It is no longer just an unmarked thoroughfare;
it has become a destination for caregivers wishing to improve their competency, for sick people wishing to improve their health, and for writers like me to share the stories that have helped us grow.
This is one of my stories from my nursing career:
Narrative Medicine:
A Tale of Two Men and a Four-letter Word
Nobody wanted to work on the 4th floor. That AIDS man was up there. It was the mid-1980s, and the greatest fear of every nursing student in our cohort was being assigned an AIDS patient. But, eventually, it happened. My fellow student Cleeta and I were both placed on the 4th floor. We were both assigned our customary one patient. Mine was an elderly lady with dementia who kept putting on the call light, looking for her feet; someone had stolen her feet. My friend Cleeta’s patient was the AIDS man at the end of the hall.
“I’m not taking that man,” Cleeta said. “I want to be reassigned!” But Mrs. Kluth, our clinical instructor, told Cleeta she would either take the patient she was assigned or she would be sent home. Grudgingly, Cleeta grabbed her things, and we headed to the 4th floor.
As the two student nurses working on the unit, we were taken to the room at the end of the hall and given a full demonstration on how to follow strict isolation protocol. There were gowns to be donned, and masks and gloves to be worn. There was a bleach solution to be mixed and cleaning guidelines to follow. I looked beyond the nurse and her droning voice and into the room where a skeleton of a man lay on the bed gaunt faced and wet with perspiration. The white sheet was pulled up to his waist, his nude, rib-barreled chest rising and falling with each breath.
As noon approached, we quickly passed out the lunch trays. The AIDS man’s tray was the last one left on the cart. Cleeta, having avoided it as long as she could, pulled the tray from the cart and walked with a quick pace toward the man’s room. “Here,” I said as I followed her, “I’ll hold the tray while you gown up.”
“You don’t need to,” she said.
And when we reached the room, Cleeta squatted in the doorway, put the tray on the floor, and slid it across the slick, shiny tile. “It’s not like he’s gonna eat it,” she said. “Look at him; he’s catatonic.” And she walked away leaving me standing there.
The man was lying on his side facing the door. His dark, sunken eyes were fixed on me. “Are you hungry, sir?” I asked from the doorway not knowing what else to do, but he didn’t respond. His eyes were stuporous, his naked body was wet with sweat, and his respirations were rapid and shallow. I donned a gown, mask, and gloves, and held my breath as I stepped in quickly to move the tray from the floor to the bedside table. I held my breath because I feared the AIDS virus might be swirling about in the air. The mask might not have been enough to protect me.
It had all been such a disaster, and I thought about it later that night as I lay in bed. I wasn’t prepared, I thought. It happened too quickly, and I didn’t have time to get my thoughts together. Besides, he wasn’t even my patient. I struggled, unsuccessfully, to justify the events of the afternoon, but the truth was inescapable. I should’ve behaved with more compassion.I should’ve walked into that room and touched him, not the touch that demands something, like a blood pressure or a pulse, not the rattling around of bed rails or the shifting of covers or the other busy work that our hands find to do, but the simple touch of one human being to another. I should’ve offered him a sip of water.
The truth was, even though I was a bit kinder, I was just as chickenshit as Cleeta. I wasn’t afraid of the AIDS man himself. I was afraid of what was killing him. I was barely 20 years old, and the only thing I was certain of was that I didn’t want to die.
Some years later while working for a home-health agency, I volunteered to care for another man who was dying of AIDS. His name was David. Thanks to medical research, we were a little wiser about the AIDS virus and its transmission, but people were still dying from the disease at alarming rates. As such, there were few caregivers lining up to care for people with AIDS.
David lived in a posh, midtown penthouse that was filled with beautiful furniture and exotic artifacts from his many travels. For the six weeks that I cared for him, we talked in great detail about life and death and the unknown. I sat on the side of his bed while he showed me pictures of his adventures in Africa and Europe and South America. I listened to his action-packed stories and outlandish tall tales. And every day we ate plump, juicy oranges that were delivered fresh from the farmer’s market. David insisted that I invest in a Walkman so that on restless nights when I found it difficult to sleep, I could listen to the sounds of nature, which is exactly what he was doing the night he slipped away.
These two men dwell in my memory as a jarring juxtaposition. Even though my experiences with them happened years apart, I view it as one event, one sacred lesson. When, for whatever reason, I miss an opportunity to lay loving hands on someone in need, the universe will provide me with a second chance to get it right.
It’s up to me to take advantage of that second chance and turn it into something beautiful.
Author’s Bio:
Nancy Stephan is the author of The Truth About Butterflies: A Memoir, which earned the Atlanta resident a 2012 Georgia Author of the Year Award. She holds a master’s degree in creative writing from Kennesaw State University and is the Writing Center supervisor at Georgia Perimeter College, Dunwoody. Her first collection of poetry, A Gary Girl’s Guide to Good, was published in 2012. She is currently working on a collection of essays entitled, 24th Opus.
Thank you, Nancy for sharing your heart-wrenching story of caring for AIDS patients. It is reassuring to know that compassionate care has become the focus in health care and that narrative medicine is helping both patients and caregivers experience healing by sharing the stories that matter.
The Truth About Butterflies A Memoir by Nancy Stephan
How About You? Has storytelling brought healing to you? Have you had any experience with Narrative Medicine?
We’d love to hear from you. Please share your stories and comments below~
Nancy will be giving away a copy of her memoir to a commenter whose name will be selected in a random drawing. She is also offering a 20% discount if you order The Truth About Butterflies here.
Announcement: Congratulations to Linda Thomas and Louise Carlini! Your names were selected in a random drawing of commenters: Linda won Slants of Light Anthology by Susan Weidener and the Women’s Writing Circle; Louise won Adopted Reality by Laura Dennis.
“Revision is one of the exquisite pleasures of writing.”Bernard Malamud
I am very pleased to feature Memoirist Laura Dennis again in this guest post on re-launching her memoir, Adopted Reality. My book reviews are on Amazon and Goodreads.
All authors revise; we want to, and we have to. Our writing–if it is to be more than a personal journal–is meant to be read.
Before this “New Age of Digital Publishing,” a book was a book was a book. Once it was printed, on paper … pretty much, that-was-that. Publishers would not agree to a new edition mere months after the first one, just so the author could add a few bits. It was cost-prohibitive and generally, simply not done.
All of that has changed. Whether or not we call it a new edition, a re-release, or reprinting, authors are able to tweak their ebooks. Even paperbacks can be updated with relative ease,given the availability of print-on-demand. I use Createspace, for example.
When I first published Adopted Reality, a Memoir, I wanted it proofread and coherent, a good story … but I also wanted it out there. I wanted to be a published author, come hell or high-water. I did absolutely NO pre-launch marketing, social networking, what have you. I had my priorities, and yes, initial sales suffered for it.
Revision. Re-vision. Discovering a newvision.
For this re-launch of the 2nd Edition of my memoir, I had two purposes.
First, I knew I needed to “beef up” the endorsements in the front. I needed back matter. I needed “social media outlets” such as links to Twitter, Facebook and my blog.
I wanted a way to get readers engaged, to keep them as readers–of my blog and of future books. All of that was fairly straight-forward extremely daunting. It required healthy doses of gumption and legwork.
The second, and I would have to say, even more difficult purpose was to revise the memoir itself. I received feedback from readers that they wondered “if I’d made it” ... As in, following my 2001 bipolar breakdown, was I able to remain (relatively) sane and out of the hospital? If yes, then–how did I actually go about recovering?
Darn it, to heck, I thought. Let’s be honest. I may have used more evocative four-letter words.
I don’t know the answer to this. Long-term recovery from a bipolar breakdown is not easy, and I can’t say that I’m completely “cured.” That’s simply not how it works, at least for me. Learning to manage my depression, mania, hypomania, and something I’m only know recognizing as “mixed states”–well, it’s a huge job. I don’t have many insights.
Seriously, writing about my recovery … over the last twelve years? That’s fodder for a whole additional book, and I may need a degree in psychology to figure it all out!
The elusive “satisfying ending”
How I went about discussing my recovery to give readers not only a satisfying ending, but also some knowledge about living with bipolar disorder … it took time to figure out.
I wanted Adopted Reality to continue to exist as a “slice of life” memoir.The fantastical elements of my mental breakdown needed to have a beginning, middle and end. This can be one of the hardest aspects of memoir–finding an ending that feels complete and adequate for the reader … when the main character has a whole lot of life left to live!
Even so, the reader feedback was sound, especially because it came from fellow memoirists! I needed to give more details about how I struggled after being released from the mental hospital, how I succeeded in earning an MFA from a prestigious dance program, as a scholarship student who should otherwise be at the top of her dancing career. [If only it weren’t for this pesky mental illness.] This early recovery aspect needed to be shown with its attendant relapses and setbacks, warts-and-all.
I had to admit to myself was that while writing about delusions was fun and interesting; chronicling the arduous path to stability and sanity was decidedly not. The two years following my descent into madness were some of the most difficult times of my life. While I was supposed to be living my dream in California–reunited with my first mom, pursuing my love of dance–I was broken and beaten-down, physically, emotionally and spiritually.
But, I did it.
I sat down and I forced the writing out of me. I believe the 2nd edition of Adopted Reality is a better memoir for it. I’ve learned so much in the last year from other memoirists, such as Kathy Pooler, and from a social network of writers, fellow adoptees, and bloggers. Kathy was one of the first non-family-members who validated that my memoir was what she called, “a stunning psychological thriller.”
Beyond mere revision, this too is the power of the online digital age–connecting with kindred spirits, finding meaning in our own writing lives, and sharing that knowledge with others.
* * *
Laura Dennis was adopted in New Jersey, raised in Maryland, and learned how to be a (sane) person in California. A professionally trained dancer, Laura also worked as sales director for a biotech startup. With two children under the age of three, in 2010 she and her husband sought to simplify their lifestyle and escaped to his hometown, Belgrade, Serbia. While the children learned Serbian in their cozy preschool, Laura recovered from sleep deprivation and wrote Adopted Reality, a Memoir, available on Amazon.
She currently blogs at Expat (Adoptee) Mommy. Connect with her on twitter @LauraDennisCA, or email laura@adoptedrealitymemoir.com.
Adopted Reality , 2nd edition, Book Cover
Thank you, Laura for sharing your memoir writer’s journey with us and for showing us how writing is rewriting. I appreciate how you kept your reader in mind as you revised.
Laura will give a copy of her memoir to a commenter whose name will be selected in a random drawing.
How about you? What makes you decide to revise what you have written? Do you ask for reader feedback? As a reader, what makes you want to keep turning the pages of a book?
We’d love to hear from you. Please leave your comments below~
Next Week: Memoir Author Nancy Stephan, The Truth About Butterflies, will discuss Narrative Medicine: ” A Tale of Two Men and a Four-letter Word.”
I am honored to be featured on Gabriela Pereira’s blog DIYMFA today in a guest post “How Practicing My Pitch Helped Me Write A Better Book.”
When I attended the Writer’s Digest Conference earlier this month in New York City, I wasn’t sure if I would be pitching my memoir. I decided at the last minute I would and here’s my story:
