Post #81 – Women’s Memoirs, Author Conversations – Kendra Bonnett and Matilda Butler
Yesterday was June 1st. And for the past 11 years now, it’s been the one day each year that I dread. And no, it’s not my birthday although I understand how you might think that was my horror. But no. June 1st marks one more year since I last saw my mother.
For me, that’s a sad milestone because I’m one of the lucky ones who had a fabulous childhood and many pleasant years as a teen and adult enjoying my parents. In fact, both my father and mother were supportive and loving people. The only thing I can blame them for is making it difficult to write my memoir without slipping into saccharine-sweet storytelling.
For a long time I felt the memoirist with the tough story of hardship, pain and abuse and how she overcame everything and forged a wonderful life had it easier than I…when it came to writing the story. I mean, if nothing else, tragedy gives one a starting point. And things can pretty much only improve from there.
I’m being a little flip, of course, and for a reason. The longer Matilda and I teach and coach memoir writers, the more we have come to recognize the challenge for writers with the tough story. Their problem is the exact opposite of mine: knowing when to stop writing about the bad stuff.
Keep Tragedy in Perspective
A few years back, I worked with a woman–I’ll call her Suzi–who wanted desperately to tell her story of childhood sexual abuse in order to bring more awareness to the enormity of the problem. And I can tell you that her early years were terrible–filled with encounters with neighborhood men, trips to a baby brothel, and parents who were completely oblivious to what was happening.
While we worked together, Suzi would write some excellent descriptive scenes. She was particularly skillful at writing about the range of emotions she went through. Suzi didn’t just tell her story; she showed her feelings of revulsion, embarrassment and even acceptance of her need to bear the burden and shield her parents from the truth.
What Suzi couldn’t do was get beyond the horror that had been her childhood. This was ironic in a way because her inner strength had helped her more than survive. She had married, had children and was a professional woman who worked with the victims of sexual abuse. But while outwardly her life was good, when she went to deal with the nightmare that had been her childhood, she couldn’t write through the terror, put it in perspective and move on to her message for parents and victims of sexual abuse.
And Suzi is not the only one. There are many memoir writers struggling with similar problems. They can’t make forward progress in writing their memoirs because they are too busy reliving their personal horror over and over…sort of a Groundhog Day Nightmare.
Just the other day I came across a video interview between Internet marketer Chris Brogan and author Jenny Lynn Anderson. Matilda recalled that she had interviewed Anderson back in January 2012 about her memoir Room 939: 15 Minutes of Horror, 20 Years of Healing. But the focus had been more on the healing aspect of memoir than on the craft of writing memoir. Watch this video, and then I’ll leave you with a few ideas.
Write Through the Horror and Get to Your Real Story
If you are trying to write about a particularly bad time in your life, chances are you want to get through the story and move on to your message for readers. If you are having trouble making progress, here are a few steps that might help:
- Focus on your theme and message: Make sure you’re clear on what you want your readers to get from your story. Whether you want to pass along inspiration, encouragement or a roadmap to overcoming some terrible event, remember that it is the solutions and healing that will help your readers.
- Remember why people read memoirs: These are not readers looking for the dirt in your life. They do not have an appetite for the prurient. They want to be inspired, encouraged, urged, taught, motivated, etc.
- Make a list of benefits: List all the inspirational advice, encouragement, healing steps you took and lessons learned that you want to share with readers. As you begin to work these into your outline, make sure that these outweigh the time and space given to the bad stuff.
- Write the tragedy for yourself: If your personal nightmare is something you have been having trouble confronting, then maybe you should let the story pour out of you until there’s nothing left. This may be the healing process you need. But once you’re done, read and edit critically to determine what needs to go in the book. And when you have a well-focused version for publication, include it in your manuscript, then move on.
- Give yourself to the lessons and inspiration: It is the lessons from your journey of healing that will most benefit you and your readers. Use Jenny Lynn Anderson’s subtitle as your guide–15 Minutes of Horror, 20 Years of Healing. Keep her message in mind, and I think you will find it easier to put your own sadness and tragedy into perspective and write the book you are meant to write.