Twenty-six shapes: All you need to write your story

 

“Your story is important.” You’ve heard me say those words at least a hundred times.

 

“Someone needs to know your story.” I’ve also said those words over and over again.

 

I keep receiving reminders of those words and the truth of them, so I keep reminding you, too.

 

For example, just this morning I read the following words from Lloyd Ogilvie:

 

“All we have and are is a gift of grace to be shared. Everything that happens to us prepares us to develop deep, sharing relationships. . . . Everything grace has given us is for others.”

 

Ogilvie continues: “When we go through the valleys of trials or stand on the mountaintops of victory, we are being prepared to enter into the difficulties and victories of others.

 

“We go through all of this so that we can be able to say those empowering words of empathy, ‘I know what you are going through—I’ve been there!’

 

“Life is a school of grace

equipping us for a ministry of sharing,

developing confidence so we can say,

‘Thank You, Lord, for what has happened.

I can’t wait to see how You are going to use

what You have taught me

in sharing with someone

who will need just what I discovered!”

(Lloyd Ogilvie, Silent Strength for My Life)

 

And now I hope the following Andrew Solomon quote makes you chuckle, but I also hope it inspires awe.

Solomon wrote, “Despite every advancement, language remains the defining nexus of our humanity; it is where our knowledge and hope lie.

 

“It is the precondition of human tenderness, mightier than the sword but also infinitely more subtle and ultimately more urgent.

 

“Remember that writing things down makes them real; that it is nearly impossible to hate anyone whose story you know; and, most of all, that even in our post post-modern era, writing has a moral purpose.”

 

Solomon continues:  

 

“With twenty-six shapes arranged in varying patterns,

we can tell every story known to mankind,

and make up all the new ones. . . .

If you can give language to experiences previously starved for it,

you can make the world a better place.”

 

When remembering troubles our hearts

 

By now you recognize how important remembering is when writing a memoir.

 

Reflecting—examining the past, discovering deeper significance than you recognized at the time.

 

Remembering and analyzing and piecing together can bring deep healing—and might even change the direction of our lives.

 

Reflecting on what God has done for us and through us can be life-changing.

 

Sometimes, however, our introspection

leads to painful memories, regrets, shame.

 

Our hearts become troubled.

 

You know what a troubled heart feels like.

So do I.

Sometimes it hurts for a long, long time.

 

And yet, Jesus said, “Don't let your hearts be troubled” (John 14:1).

Lloyd Ogilvie offers us this consolation and hope: “We have a place to go with our troubled hearts—the heart of God.”

God’s heart is “a place of reconciliation, forgiveness, and acceptance. . . . We were created to abide in His heart of love. . . . An intimate communion awaits us where we can unburden all our troubles and receive strength.” (Lloyd Ogilvie, Silent Strength for My Life)

 

Take in Henri Nouwen’s words: “We are people with souls, sparks of the divine. To acknowledge the truth about ourselves is to claim the sacredness of our being, without fully understanding it.” Nouwen says we must “trust that our souls are embraced by a loving God.” (Bread for the Journey)

 

Nouwen continues:

 

“Solitude, silence, and prayer . . .

offer solutions

for the complexity of our lives . . .

because they bring us in touch with

our sacred center, where God dwells. . . .

It is the place of adoration, thanksgiving, and praise.”

 

May God bring healing to our painful memories

and our troubled hearts,

and may we rejoice in Him

as we dwell in that lovely place in His heart.

 

“Maybe you don’t think of yourself as a part of the sweep of history. Think again.”

 

“Maybe you don’t think of yourself as a part of the sweep of history. Think again.” So says Biff Barnes.

 

You are a witness to history.

 

Good details in your memoir about the history you experienced can make all the difference in whether you draw readers into your story. To pull them in is a must.

 

Think back.

Do you remember reading a book in which

you were in the story with its writer?

You tasted what he tasted. You smelled what she smelled.

You saw events he witnessed. You heard sounds she heard.

You felt the pain or textures or temperatures he felt.

We call those sensory details.

 

Think back again.

Have you ever read a book

that kept you at a distance—

a story that made you feel like an observer

on the outside, unable to get in?

 

If so, then you know how much richer it is

for a reader to live inside a story.

 

That’s what you want to do for your readers—

write your memoir so they get “zipped into your skin,”

in the words of memoirist Mary Karr.

 

You can “zip readers in” by including historical details of the era. To establish your story’s historical backdrop, the following details help create a sense of place and time:

• prominent values/philosophies
• that time period’s passions and culture
• the nation’s or culture’s major turning points (the Iraq war, for example)
• the place’s and era’s economic conditions
• health concerns during that period (polio, for example)
• scientific, technological, and medical advances
• political climate
• the nation’s struggles or victories
• major stories in the news
• and so on.

 

By age 25, I had witnessed Sputnik, rock ‘n’ roll, the Cuban Missile Crisis, JFK’s death, the Beatles, Dr. Martin Luther King’s death, the hippie era, the feminist movement, humankind’s first walk on the moon, and the Vietnam war. They all influenced and shaped me.

 

What history-making events influenced and shaped you?

 

Make a list.

 

Then ask yourself: Did one or more of them

• send your life in a different direction than you expected?
• lead you to change your college major? your professional career?
• change your faith in God?
• break your heart?
• introduce you to your spouse?
• destroy your home or life savings?
• cause you to relocate?
• make you wealthy?

 

Here’s another question: How did you influence and shape history? Take to heart what  Biff Barnes said: You have been “a part of the sweep of history.” What roles did you play in history-making events? Perhaps you played a small role, or maybe you played a prominent role.

 

I’m eager to tell you about a fun tool you can use to enhance your story’s historical context: Check out a website from The Atlantic called Life Timeline.

 

When you enter your birthdate, you’ll see a list of historical events that occurred during your lifetime, and you’ll find links to articles about those events. Enjoy this fun tool to enhance the vibrancy and power of your memoir and to create a story your readers can experience along with you.

 

Did you know? Your memoir has its own unique set of words and phrases

 

This week I have something really fun for you.

 

In her delightful book, The Writer’s Portable Mentor, Priscilla Long describes the enjoyment and value of word lexicons.

 

Word lexicons = collections of words and phrases.

 

Especially significant are word lexicons that pertain to a specific written piece—your memoir, for example.

 

Priscilla can tell by reading a person’s writing whether he or she collected words and phrases—what she calls The Lexicon Practice. She writes:

 

“Writers who do the Lexicon Practice

have left in the dust what I call

‘conventional received diction.’

Writers who don’t do it . . .

are pretty much stuck with television words,

newspaper words, cereal-box words.”

 

A writing instructor at the University of Washington and a widely published author, Priscilla collected words from her childhood for a collection of stories she planned to write: “greenbriar, dirt road, Neil Lindsey’s pig, 4-H Club . . . calf barn, gutter, manure pile, manure spreader, marsh grass. . . .”

 

Your memoir has its own lexicon, its own unique set of words and phrases. Use them to define your story, to enrich it, to make it come alive for your readers.

 

You’ll want to compose several lexicons because, Priscilla points out, individuals have lexicons, places have lexicons, and “every craft, trade, profession, or job. . . .”

 

I especially enjoy her lexicon for the Pacific Northwest, my home: “crow, Puget Sound, Steilacoom Tribe, western red cedar, Smith Tower, Emmett Watson’s Oyster Bar, Starbucks, Northwest jellyfish, geoduck (pronounced gooey duck), Stillaguamish River. . . .” Priscilla nailed it with those words.

 

Which words and phrases belong in the lexicon for your memoir?

 

When composing your lexicons, think about these possibilities for your story’s historical setting and physical location:

• iconic geographical references (rivers, mountains, deserts. . .)
• prominent buildings
• popular restaurants
• food and drink trends
• lingo (“That’s a swell hot rod you have there.”)
• clothing and hair styles (poodle skirts, saddle shoes)
• popular songs and recording artists
• popular hobbies/sports (hula hoops, Seattle Supersonics)
• car models
• weather
• typical sounds (birds, insects, frogs, fog horns, ferries, factories, trains, children’s laughter)
• colors
• vegetation and wildlife

 

Collect other words and phrases for main characters in your memoir and professions/occupations.

 

Create as many lexicons as you need to enrich your memoir.

 

Remember what Priscilla said:

 

“Writers who do the Lexicon Practice

have left in the dust

what I call ‘conventional received diction.’

Writers who don’t do it . . .

are pretty much stuck with television words,

newspaper words, cereal-box words.”

 

“The right words in the right order might be worth a thousand pictures”

 

“Words—especially religious words, words that have to do with the depth of things—get tired and stale the way people do,” writes Frederick Buechner. “Find new words or put old words together in combinations that make them heard as new, make you yourself new, and make you understand in new ways.” (From Now and Then; emphasis mine)

 

Think about it: Written words are merely scribbles and scratches on paper or black squiggles on a computer screen.

 

But words pack punch. They have power. Potential.

 

Words inspire, comfort, entertain, make the heart soar, cause laughter or tears. Words can change lives.

 

Words are a memoirist’s most important tools. We must use them with excellence.

 

Use crisp, bright, refreshing words—

 

but avoid ornamental words,

extravagant, snobbish words,

self-important words to impress readers,

elusive words that make your readers get up and find a dictionary.

 

A good thesaurus and dictionary can be a memoirist’s best friend. Computer programs usually have a thesaurus—a minimal one, but one that can help find a better word quickly.

 

“There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner,” writes Diane Setterfield. “Wind them around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic.”

 

James Michener writes, “I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.”

 

“The right words in the right order might be worth a thousand pictures,” says Roy Peter Clark in How to Write Short.

 

“Words whispered, shouted, and sung.

Words that move, dance,

and change in size and color.

Words that say,

‘Taste me, smell me, eat me, drink me. . . .

The word has the power to create. . . .

When God says,

‘Let there be light’ (Genesis 1:30),

light is. . . .

It is this creative power of the word

we need to reclaim.”

Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey;

emphasis mine)

 

Look over your manuscript and replace boring, tired words with words that have zing and pizzazz and melody and texture.

 

“Writing is the painting of the voice.”

Voltaire