Fine Wine and Memoir: A Guest Post by Mary Gottschalk

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler with Mary Gottschalk/@Marycgottschalk

 

Age appears to be best in four things: old wood to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read.”  Francis Bacon

 

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!

IMG_0681_3_4 (1)Mary Gottschalk author photo
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.

 

7791361008_ef2993a079_m Wine by LMRitchie
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
Sailing Down the Moonbeam book cover

 

***

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

 

Links to books and social media sites:

http://marycgottschalk.com

www.Sailingdownthemoonbeam.com

http://twitter.com/marycgottschalk

http://www.facebook.com/mary.gottschalk.9

http://www.facebook.com/MaryGottschalkWriter

http://www.linkedin.com/in/marygottschalk/

https://plus.google.com/u/0/105973496280247274228/posts

 

Links to Amazon: amzn.to/Iy5JTJ

 

 

How about you? How long did it take to find your story? 

 

Mary has graciously agreed to give away a paperback copy of her memoir to a commenter whose name will be selected in a random drawing.

 

We’d love to hear from you. Please leave your comments below~

 

This Week: I’m over at Dawn Herring’s blog with an interview on ““My Authentic Refreshment”. I hope you’ll join us.

 

 

Next Week:  Lifewriting Teacher and Author Sharon Lippincott will discuss “ From Blog to a  Book”. She will give away a copy of her writing book, The Heart and Craft of Writing Compelling Descriptions to a random commenter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

43 thoughts on “Fine Wine and Memoir: A Guest Post by Mary Gottschalk”

  1. What a fascinating story, Mary. I love the image of “sailing down a moonbeam” and letting the unpredictable whims of Mother Nature set our course. I have learned one too many times that “control is an illusion.” It is a difficult to mantra to truly live in the moment, but in the end that is all we have. Your memoir looks like a very enticing read.

    1. Thanks, Pat. I agree that it’s difficult to give up control … oddly in my life, I have the most trouble with little things (like the stoplight turns red) and not so much with the big things (a month’s delay in getting into our new apartment). I keep plugging away at it!

  2. Mary and Kathy, it is a lovely way to start my day sitting here with the two of you.

    Mary, thanks for sharing your insights and experience, both from your life experience in the business world and as a writer. I see myself in your description of your desire to control. That has been a life struggle for me imprinted, I believe, by the mother who raised me. And yet, after entering my second marriage and finding true happiness and love, that skin somewhat fell away. Then when retirement came my mind was free to explore things other than those legal documents and deadlines. Floating to the top came the story of my life and why I needed to write it. You have affirmed my thoughts on why my project has taken so long for the kindling to set a spark and flame. Thank you!

    Kathy, as always, thank you for bringing worthwhile and informative posts from guest bloggers who have lived the writing life and accomplished what we all dream of.

    1. Sherrey, You have reinforced Mary’s insights through sharing your own story here. I guess that’s what work-in-progress means, a continual unfolding of new levels of awareness as we move through our lives. It reminds me how we need to be patient and listen. The stories that need to be told will surface if we give them the time to germinate and grow. I love Mary’s analogy of fine wine and memoir. I’m so happy Mary’s post resonated with you. Thanks, as always for stopping by and sharing your own thoughts so generously. We all have so much to learn from one another 🙂

    2. Sherrey … It’s amazing the way our mother’s continue to influence our behavior long after we are out of their grasp. Mother Nature taught a lot about the limits of control, but I wonder how well I would have learned them if I had to deal with my mother’s expectations every day. It was, I think, the combination of Mother Nature and time away that made it all possible. Glad you found it in your life! Thanks for sharing your story.

  3. I enjoyed reading this interview and agree that it takes a long time for a memoir to percolate. In my case it took me fifty years after my experience in the program I wanted to write about ( “Operation Pedro Pan”) before I knew what my real story was. Kathy, as always, great job in bringing to our attention the experience and journey of different memoirists.

    1. How true, Lorenzo. It often takes time and distance as well as lots of writing to find the true hearts of our stories as Mary points out so effectively in this guest post. I appreciate you stopping by and sharing your thoughts here. Best wishes on your memoir. I’m anxiously awaiting it’s launch!

  4. A compelling and timely post, Mary. I read your book only a few weeks ago and was struck by the power of your insights and the way you share them with such open clarity. Would you agree that the writing process itself played a large part in focusing and shaping your understanding as well as your message?

    1. What a great question for all of us , Sharon. I agree Mary’s insights in her memoir are honest and believable. I’m happy you enjoyed her post. Thanks for stopping by and I look forward to featuring you next week! 🙂

    2. Sharon … thanks for those kinds words … and for the lovely and thoughtful review you did for Moonbeam.

      And yes, there is no question that the writing process “shaped” my understanding of the story. One of the most challenging parts of doing the memoir was deciding which of the 400 pages of my journal were fascinating as part of a travel story but entirely irrelevant to the story I wanted to tell.

      For example, we spent six weeks in the Dominican Republic and I loved every moment of it … but nothing that happened there was relevant to the story of learning to give up control and live free of other’s expectations. So the only way you know that we went there on the sailing trip was by looking at the itinerary at the back of Moonbeam

  5. Kathy, you run into the most interesting writers — thank you!

    Mary, I love the idea of taking a step away so you can see the bigger picture. It’s one thing to have lived through a situation, but like you said, it’s another to relate that situation (and the insights you learned) into something concrete for others. Few stories simply “write themselves”!!

    1. Thanks, Debbie. I agree, Mary’s advice is spot-on. It’s not the life events that matter as much as the impact those events have on you and what lessons you can share with others. Time and distance seem to be the key ingredients.

  6. Debbie … thanks for the compliment. You’ve made a great point … one step in the story is learning what the events meant in your own life …. but it takes a whole different process to see how that lesson might be useful to others.

  7. I’m now at the end of a 17-year transition and have begun pulling together notes and journals for my next writing project. Mary speaks the truth. Tackling a memoir too soon is like taking a cake out of the oven before the center is done. Thanks for the great advice, Mary. And thanks to you, too, Kathy.

    1. You’re very welcome, Nancy. I love this:”tackling a memoir too soon is like taking a cake out of the oven before the center is done.” So true. I’m happy you enjoyed Mary’s insightful post. Thanks for stopping by.

    2. Nancy … sounds like your aging process was almost as long as mine. Good luck on this writing project!

  8. I am posting nightly entries from the diaries I wrote in 50 years ago to the night. In January 2010 I began a blog with entries that I wrote in January 1960 when I was a farm girl and high school student in Iowa. I am currently writing about being back in Iowa for the summer when I had a job as the substitute society editor at the Washington (Iowa) Evening Journal. Beginning August 29 it will be 50 years since I was back at Park College (now Park University) in Parkville (suburban Kansas City), Missouri for the start of my junior year. I like to think my project could become a memoir.

    1. It certainly sounds like you have plenty of material for a memoir, Barbara. How great that you have saved all those journal entries to capture those past times. Best wishes with your writing. Thanks so much for stopping by and sharing your story.

    2. Barbara … How lucky you are to have those journals to work with. I journal when I travel, but can’t seem to stick with it during the ordinary everyday. I agree with Kathy (below), that you’ve got lots to work with … the trick is figuring out which journal entries are relevant to the story or theme you want your memoir to tell. Good luck!

  9. Mary,
    You make an excellent point about staying true to the theme(s) of your memoir, and leaving out irrelevant material–I’m sure the story of the Dominican Republic could make a great adjunct travel story or accompanying short story, but remaining true to the basic premise is such an important element for a successful memoir.
    I’m in the midst of reading yours right now!
    Laura

    1. Laura … Glad you could stop by … I keep thinking about writing some purely travel stories, but they will definitely come after my novel is done … and maybe after a second novel. I think I am more interested in “themes” and “life lessons” than in pure adventure.

      BTW, Adopted Reality is on my Kindle, and near the top of the TBR list now that the move is done

  10. First of all, I am so glad you met Mary through Gutsy Indie Publishers, Kathy. I had the pleasure of meeting Mary in San Clemente, CA, over brunch with some other GIP authors.
    Anyway, one thing that struck me with Mary, is her ability to come up with life lessons and words of wisdom. During brunch we discussed why it takes us so many years to write a memoir or to do something we’ve put off for years. Mary came up with a brilliant quote which I must have been keeping so I could use it at the appropriate time. “As long as you haven’t failed, it’s still a possibility.”

    1. I love that quote , Sonia. Yes, we are all a work-in-progress! How neat that you and Mary were able to meet in person. I wish I could meet you all in person and I’m hoping there will be an annual Gutsy reunion 🙂

    2. Sonia … thanks for those kinds words … I remember our delightful lunch which you so graciously organized, but I’d forgotten my little “bon mot.”
      And thank you for all you’ve done to promote indie authors!

  11. It took me 13 years after my husband’s death before I could begin writing about him in “Again in a Heartbeat,” so I feel what you say about not writing things too quickly when the come upon us and waiting until it feels right to do so. That said, I feel there is no prescription as to when it is or is not the best time to write a memoir. For some, it will be a shorter time period than others and getting the story on paper becomes almost as essential as breathing.. For others, it takes time to percolate, as well as much soul-searching and self-discovery to figure out what to say. Thanks, Mary, for you generous insights into your own process.

    1. I agree, Susan. The right time to write a memoir is an individual matter. Mine has been brewing inside me for at least 15 years and since I started writing , it has morphed into an entirely different story than the one I started out writing. Perception does change over time and I truly believe the story that needs to be told does eventually surface. Thanks for stopping by and sharing your insights.

    2. Susan & Kathy … I agree that there is no “formula” or template for how long it should take. But the best memoirs are those in which the author took the time to let the lessons percolate, so that you can see why the events were important to the author, rather simply traveling with the author through what happened.

      It’s a challenging process for every memoir writer!

  12. Thanks ladies for this timely post. It makes me think more on the reasons I aborted my WIP. Perhaps, like fine wine, it just needs more time to age into my reality .

    Anyhow, I won’t fret over the unfinished product, just keep writing via other avenues until “it” tell me “I’m ready!”

    Blessings,
    Clara.

  13. Kathy and Mary, Thanks so much for another thoughtful and timely post. I just read this morning that Henry David Thoreau took eight years to write his famous Waldon Pond, and went through seven drafts. I once worried that, after THREE years, it was taking me too long to write mine. Now it’s going on seven. I’m in good company. Thanks again.

    1. Janet, You have a multi-layered story that I know will be fascinating from a cultural difference and personal transformation point of view. I find it very encouraging that published memoirists such as Mary and Thoreau took so many years to launch their memoirs, showing us that writing it until it shines is worth the wait. I agree with Mary. You have a colorful story and I , for one, am very much looking forward to reading your memoir. Best wishes on your journey!

  14. Janet … I just checked your website … you do have a colorful story, and I can imagine it would a while to sort out “the new” from “the significant” as you assess life in the Asian steppes. But you also draw an interesting distinction between the number of drafts (part aging of the material, part writer-ly craft) and the time it takes to even start to write (the “aging” process).

    I will check out your story of life on the steppes!

  15. I’m finally catching up on my blog reading and love this post. I agree that time is what brings out our essence. I just started writing my own memoir about a year ago, and I wouldn’t have been ready to do it if I’d tried before that time. I’m 70 now, and sometimes worry I’ll never finish it. But then I think, “So what! It’s been a fantastic ride.”

    Thanks, Mary and Kathy.

  16. I read this post when I was in the midst of problems at work–normal problems that nevertheless pull you away from that equilibrium where you can assess issues calmly. Mary’s words–not being in control and working through it nevertheless were very apt and helpful to me then. It’s a message that is hard to hold on to and a philosophy that perhaps needs to be earned. Regarding the timing for writing about one’s past, I can contribute that a certain nostalgia for a lost world (in my case another country, another lifestyle) is a profound motivator. Unfinished business too vis a vis a parent or other family member is another. The driving force for me has been a desire to understand. It’s never fulfilled and never should be. But this is what pushes you on and what keeps a manuscript open ended and alive. The question. Mary and Kathy you are doing such a beautiful job of providing a forum for ideas, for promotion and connection between writers and readers. Thank you.

    1. Hi Marlena,
      Thank you so much for your thought-provoking insights into the memoir writing process. You have captured the essence of the journey. I love that your “driving force to understand” and that “a certain nostalgia for a lost world, as well as unfinished business” are primary motivators. To me , this speaks to the power of memoir to transform both the writer and the reader. I appreciate you stopping by and sharing your thoughts. Blessings~ Kathy

  17. This is some of the best advice I’ve read about memoir…yes, everything needs to simmer and then age before we can even begin to write something of value for the reader. Write On!

    TY for such a great post…(-:

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