Back to Basics: It’s super fun to gather “crackly” words for your memoir

 

Last week we stressed the importance of inviting readers to experience your story as if they were with you. You, the writer, can make that happen by helping them to see, feel, hear, taste, and smell what you saw, felt, heard, tasted, and smelled. We’re talking about sensory details.

 

We’ll continue working on sensory details in the coming weeks but today we’re taking a slight—and fun!—detour which will enhance your use of sensory details.

 

A number of years ago I bought The Writer’s Portable Mentor by Priscilla Long, and it became one of my favorite writing books.

 

Oh, how I’d love to sit at her feet and take classes from her! But she has retired—sigh. However, second-best is her book: a treasure chest packed with jewels.

 

Priscilla praises writers who “collect words the way some numismatists collect coins.”

 

She also recognizes writers who, on the other hand, approach “language passively. . . . The writer is using only words that come to mind, or words he grew up with, or words she stumbles upon while reading The New York Times. . . .

 

“He strives for expression with rather general, conventional diction [word choice] that has little to offer in the way of echo, color, or texture.”

 

Priscilla continues, “The writers of deep and beautiful works spend real time gathering words. They learn the names of weeds and tools and types of roof. They make lists of color words (ruby, scarlet, cranberry, brick).

 

“They savor not only the meanings, but also the musicality of words,” she says. “They are hunting neither big words nor pompous words nor Latinate words but mainly words they like. . . . They are not trying to be fancy or decorative.”

 

Did you get that? Not big, pompous, fancy, or decorative.

 

Words that don’t require a dictionary.

 

One caution:

Avoid using words that draw attention to yourself,

words that might cause readers to say,

“Oh, what a clever writer he is!”

That interrupts. That lures readers out of your story.

 

Instead, use words that keep readers involved in your story,

words that make your places, characters,

and experiences come to life.

 

Priscilla quotes Annie Proulx who admits to collecting and reading dictionaries (!) and to gathering words:

 

“I have big notebooks, page after page of words

that I like or find interesting or crackly . . . .

From time to time I will,

if I feel a section [of writing] is a bit limp,

take a couple of days and just do dictionary work

and recast sentences so that

they have more power because their words are not overused.”

 

That’s important: Avoid overused words.

 

Priscilla encourages The Lexicon Practice: a deliberate, ongoing gathering of words and phrases. She explains:

 

“There are two parts to the practice. One is to make your own Lexicon [word book] and the other is to collect words and phrases in a list that pertains to the piece you are currently working on. . . .

 

“Writers who do the Lexicon Practice have left in the dust [those who don’t]. Writers who don’t do it . . . are pretty much stuck with television words, newspaper words, cereal-box words.”

 

I’ll let you in on a secret—a confession of sorts. I thought I was the only one who collected words! I was giddy upon learning from Priscilla that I was not a weirdo. A nerd—yes. A geek—yes. But a weirdo—no! (Whew!)

 

So, now that I feel okay about being a word nerd, I’ll share a few words I once gathered, words that would meet with Priscilla’s approval. They are not big words, not pompous, fancy, or decorative words. They don’t require a dictionary.

 

Whimsy

Wry

Beguiling

Chummy

Sluggard

Wiley

Paunchy

Irascible

Thrumming, thrum

Mirth, jollity, glee, merrymaking

Jolly

Jovial

Peerless

Cull

Kafuffle

Befuddle

Canter

Miserly

 

I’ve also worked on a second type of lexicon Priscilla recommends, a word book for an era, such as 1950-1960. It was so fun! More on that another day. . . .

 

For now, though:

 

Are you a word nerd? If so,

leave some of your words in a comment below

(or on Facebook) so we all can enjoy them.

 

If you’re not a word nerd, don’t settle

for “television words, newspaper words, cereal-box words.”

Instead, give Priscilla’s Lexicon Practice a try.

Enrich your vocabulary.

 

 Creating your own word book

could lead to a new realm of writing for you.

 

Happy writing!

 

Gather “crackly” words for your memoir

I started teaching another memoir class a few weeks ago and every time we’ve met, I’ve encouraged class members to buy and study Priscilla Long’s The Writer’s Portable Mentor.

Oh, how I’d love to sit at her feet and learn from her. But second best is learning from her book, a treasure chest overflowing with jewels.

Among other gems, Priscilla praises writers who “collect words the way some numismatists collect coins.”

But she withholds praise for writers who,

on the other hand, approach “language passively . . .

using only words that come to mind,

or words he grew up with,

or words she stumbles upon

while reading The New York Times. . . .

He strives for expression with rather general,

conventional diction [word choice] that has little to offer

in the way of echo, color, or texture.”

Priscilla continues, “The writers of deep and beautiful works spend real time gathering words. They learn the names of weeds and tools and types of roof. They make lists of color words (ruby, scarlet, cranberry, brick). They are hunting neither big words nor pompous words nor Latinate words. . . . They are not trying to be fancy or decorative.”

Did you get that? Not big, pompous, fancy, or decorative.

Words that don’t make readers reach for the dictionary.

Also avoid words that draw attention to yourself, words that might cause readers to say, “Oh, what a clever writer he is!” That interrupts readers. It lures them out of your story.

Instead, use words that keep readers involved in your memoir, words that make your places, characters, and experiences come to life.

Priscilla quotes award-winning author Annie Proulx who admits to collecting and reading dictionaries (!) and to gathering words:

“I have big notebooks, page after page of words that I like or find interesting or crackly. . . . From time to time I will, if I feel a section [of writing] is a bit limp, take a couple of days and just do dictionary work and recast the sentences so that they have more power because their words are not overused.” *

That’s important: Avoid overused words.

Priscilla encourages The Lexicon Practice: a deliberate, ongoing gathering of words and phrases. She explains:

“There are two parts to the practice. One is to make your own Lexicon (word book) and the other is to collect words and phrases in a list that pertains to the piece you are currently working on. . . .

“Writers who do the Lexicon Practice 

have left in the dust [those who don’t]. 

Writers who don’t do it . . . 

are pretty much stuck with television words, 

newspaper words, cereal-box words.”

Now, I must confess: I thought I was the only one who collected words! I was giddy upon learning from Priscilla that I was not a freak. A nerd, yes. A geek, yes. But a freak—no! Whew!

So, now that I feel okay about being a word nerd, I’ll share a few words I’ve gathered, words that would meet with Priscilla’s approval:

whimsy

wry

beguiling

chummy

sluggard

wiley

paunchy

irascible

thrumming, thrum

mirth, glee, merrymaking

jolly

jovial

peerless

kafuffle, kerfuffle

befuddle

miserly

I have also worked on another type of lexicon Priscilla recommends, a word book for an era in which several of my vignettes are set, 1950-1965—and oh! What fun! What memories!

So, be honest: Are you a word nerd?

If so, leave some of your favorite words

in the comments below so we can all enjoy them.

If you’re not a word nerd,

give Priscilla’s Lexicon Practice a try.

Creating your own word book

could open for you a new world of writing.

  

*Annie Proulx interviewed by Michael Upchurch, The Glimmer Train Guide to Writing Fiction, 248. Quoted by Priscilla Long, The Writer’s Portable Mentor, 23.

The power of your place

“To understand my family,” writes Sarah White, “you just have to understand Winona Lake.…”*

Sarah’s referring to the power of place.

The places of our lives mysteriously shaped us and now define us and still anchor us and live in us. The places of our lives nurtured our souls and spirits.

Because of that, place plays an important role in memoirs.

In an interview over at Tales from The Reading Room,* Dinah Roe, London-based author of Rosettis in Wonderland, said,

“Good biographies are as much about time and place as they are about individuals. I love biographies which evoke a sense of place.… Hilary Spurling’s Burying the Bones: Pearl S. Buck in China does this brilliantly. She really makes the case for how important China was to Buck’s writing and to her identity. I had thought of Buck simply as an American writer until I read this book, and then suddenly I realized how wrong-headed this had been. Spurling evoked the place so beautifully that I felt I was right there with the missionary community in China.” (emphasis mine)

I still remember the sense of place David Guterson created in Snow Falling on Cedars—even though I read it over 13 years ago—because of his mastery of writing place into his novel. (Here at SM 101 we’re not writing novels, but, whether fiction or nonfiction, compelling writing is compelling writing.)

Part of his success came because, behind the scenes, all unseen to the rest of us, Guterson practiced what Priscilla Long* recommends: he gathered words.

He collected words about places that, coincidentally, mysteriously shaped me and now define me and still anchor me and live in me, places that nurtured my soul and spirit.

Guterson collected words that describe his place and my place, words like: 

creosoted pilings

ferry terminal

sea cucumbers

anemones

tube worms

alder sticks

geoducks

bonfires

steamer clams

mussels
the odor of salmon bones

oysters

kelp

purse seiners

one-man gill-netting boats

Guterson writes, “They had passed autumn afternoons when they were nine years old in the hollowed-out base of a cedar tree, where they sprawled on the ground looking out at the rain as it pummeled the sword ferns and ivy.… They already had a history together that included this beach, these waters, the very stones, and the forest at their backs, too. It was all theirs and always would be.… She knew where to find matsutake mushrooms, elderberries, and fern tendrils.”

He also writes: “The path looped around the head of the bay, then down into a swale … ground fog shrouded its thimbleberry and devil’s club, such was the clammy, low wetness of the place—then climbed among cedars and the shadows of spruces before descending….” and “… there was a wall of honeysuckle just past blossom, salmonberries hanging in among it and a few last wild roses blooming—Hatsue cut into the cedar woods.… through a dell of ferns where white morning glory blossoms dotted the forest floor. A fallen cedar log hung with ivy.…” and “green-tinted light entered from the cedar forest. The rain echoed in the canopy of leaves above and beat against the sword ferns, which twitched under each drop.”

I encourage you to invest a little time in what Priscilla Long calls The Lexicon Practice—a “deliberate, ongoing gathering of words and phrases.”* (from The Writer's Portable Mentor)

Last Saturday we discussed collecting words that describe a particular era in your memoir’s stories. Today, begin a lexicon (word book) with words that describe important places in your memoir—places that mysteriously shaped you and now define you and still anchor you and live in you.

Remember, you’re looking for “neither big words nor pompous words nor Latinate words,” says Priscilla, “but mainly words [you] like.” Words that don’t require a dictionary. Words that will help your readers smell, feel, hear, see, and even taste your places, those important places that nurtured your soul and spirit.

P.S. Hop on over to Rhonda’s blog post, Giving thanks for heritage, roots centered on the prairie,* to see how she crafted a sense of place. 


Note, too, that Rhonda created not only a physical, geographical place, but also an emotional place in her Aunt Esther's home.


Get out your WIPs (works in progress) and add words and phrases that will enhance your stories' sense of place.

*Links and references:

Sarah White,

http://truestorieswelltold.wordpress.com/2011/09/16/the-power-of-place-in-your-memoir

Dinah Roe’s interview at Tales from the Reading Room,  

http://litlove.wordpress.com/2012/01/10/the-art-of-writing-biography

Priscilla Long, and my blog post, Gather “crackly” words for your memoir,

http://spiritualmemoirs101.blogspot.com/2012/01/gather-crackly-words-for-your-memoir.html

Priscilla Long, and my blog post, How long will your memoir’s readers stay engaged, charmed, and beguiled? 

http://spiritualmemoirs101.blogspot.com/2012/01/how-long-will-your-memoirs-readers-stay.html

Priscilla Long’s book, The Writer’s Portable Mentor,

http://www.amazon.com/Writers-Portable-Mentor-Guide-Writing/dp/0984242104/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1326830003&sr=8-1

Rhonda’s Giving thanks for heritage, roots centered on the prairie, http://momof4braves.blogspot.com/2012/01/giving-thanks-for-heritage-roots.html

Gather “crackly” words for your memoir

.

A few months ago I bought The Writer’s Portable Mentor by Priscilla Long. Oh, how I’d love to sit at her feet and take a class from her! Sigh. But second best is her book: a treasure chest jam-packed with jewels.

Among other gems, Priscilla praises writers who “collect words the way some numismatists collect coins.”

She also knows about writers who, on the other hand, approach "language passively.… The writer is using only words that come to mind, or words he grew up with, or words she stumbles upon while reading The New York Times.… He strives for expression with rather general, conventional diction [word choice] that has little to offer in the way of echo, color, or texture.”

Priscilla says, “The writers of deep and beautiful works spend real time gathering words. They learn the names of weeds and tools and types of roof. They make lists of color words (ruby, scarlet, cranberry, brick). They savor not only the meanings, but also the musicality of words. They are hunting neither big words nor pompous words nor Latinate words but mainly words they like.… They are not trying to be fancy or decorative.”

Did you get that? Not big, pompous, fancy, or decorative.

Words that don’t require a dictionary.

One caution: Avoid using words to draw attention to yourself, words that might cause your readers to say, “Oh, what a clever writer he is!” That interrupts. That lures readers out of your story.

Instead, use words that keep readers involved in your story, words that make your places, characters, and experiences come to life.

Priscilla quotes Annie Proulx who admits to collecting and reading dictionaries (!) and to gathering words:

“I have big notebooks, page after page of words that I like or find interesting or crackly.… From time to time I will, if I feel a section [of writing] is a bit limp, take a couple of days and just do dictionary work and recast the sentences so that they have more power because their words are not overused.” * (emphasis mine)

That’s important: Avoid overused words.

Priscilla encourages The Lexicon Practice: a deliberate, ongoing gathering of words and phrases. She explains:

“There are two parts to the practice. One is to make your own Lexicon (word book) and the other is to collect words and phrases in a list that pertains to the piece you are currently working on.… Writers who do the Lexicon Practice have left in the dust [those who don’t]. Writers who don’t do it … are pretty much stuck with television words, newspaper words, cereal-box words.”

Now, I’ll let you in on a secret—a confession of sorts: I thought I was the only one who collected words! I was giddy upon learning from Priscilla that I was not a freak! A nerd, yes. A geek, yes. But a freak—no! (Whew!)

So, now that I feel OK about being a word nerd, I’ll share a few words I’ve gathered lately, words that would meet with Priscilla’s approval: they are not big words, not pompous, fancy, or decorative. They don’t require a dictionary.

whimsy

wry

beguiling

chummy

sluggard

wiley

paunchy

irascible

thrumming, thrum

mirth, jollity, glee, merrymaking

jolly

jovial

peerless

cull

kafuffle

befuddle

canter

miserly

I’ve also been working on the second type of lexicon Priscilla recommends, a word book for an era in which several of my vignettes are set, 1950-1960 and—oh, my! It’s so much fun! More on that another day.

For now, though:  Are you a word nerd? If so, leave some of your favorite words in a message below so we all can enjoy them.

If you’re not a word nerd, give Priscilla’s Lexicon Practice a try. Creating your own word book could lead to a new realm of writing for you.

Happy writing!

*Resources and links:

Annie Proulx interviewed by Michael Upchurch, The Glimmer Train Guide to Wrong Fiction, 248. Quoted by Priscilla Long, The Portable Mentor, 23.