“I didn’t know you had these pictures,
Mom!”
Matt’s face beamed. He grinned his
biggest grin, spellbound by photos he held in his hands.
Hushed, he studied one snapshot after
another.
“These will be great, Mom, to show
my girls the people and places I’ve been telling them about all these years.”
Matt was talking about pictures I took
in South America when he was age six through nine and our family lived in a
remote mission center at the end of the road in the middle of nowhere.
Those were formative years for my boy.
He experienced adventures most kids in North America couldn’t imagine, and they
define the man he is today.
Because of Matt’s delight in
discovering those old pictures in our basement, I’ve been scanning old slides
by the hundreds, getting prints, scrapbooking them, and placing them among my
written stories about those years. They occupy two thick three-ring binders—so far.
(And Karen, if you’re reading this, I’m making copies for you!)
Today’s Point #1: Include photos with
your stories and your children will rise up and call you blessed (Proverbs
31:28).
Today’s Point #2: Photos can help you find,
and then add, detail and richness and depth and breadth to your
memoir—and those are important
ingredients for helping your readers live your stories with you. (Remember
Peter Jacobi’s words, “No story has a divine right to be read.” As a memoirist,
you want to capture readers’ interest so they’ll keep reading.)
Readers can get inside your stories when
you recreate them through the five senses—sight,
sound, taste, touch, and smell.
Photos can help you do that.
For example, here are two photos of the comm (our mini-commissary) at the mission center; I’m in the red shirt. (Oh, my, I was much younger then. And slenderer. Sigh.)
When I stumbled across these pictures
recently, I remembered the comm’s
smells: ripe tropical fruit, powdered laundry detergent, broccoli, and, if the bread man had come, rancid bread.
And I
remembered burlap bags. Since we had no paper bags, we lugged groceries
home in colorful locally made burlap totes. They were coarse and scratchy and had
a dried-grass-burlap-ish smell.
And then
I remembered the flour I bought at the comm, and then I remembered the weevils that lived in that flour.
And then
I remembered that at first I didn’t know what to do about the weevils. No
one had yet taught me I could (a) put the flour in the freezer and freeze those
little critters to death, or (b) spread the flour on a cookie sheet and bake
them to death; then all I had to do was sift out their lifeless little bodies.
And then
I remembered that before I knew how to murder weevils, I helped feed a big
crowd. They asked me to bring cinnamon rolls and, you guessed it, they were
speckled inside with little black spots—dead weevils.
See what I mean? I knew those pictures, I knew
those stories—but I had forgotten
them. I needed to rediscover them. Taking another look at the photos did that
for me. They helped me rediscover
fun details to include in my stories.
Sharon Lippincott, too, knows the value
and joy old photos prompt. Reading her Photographic Memory Jolts was pure enjoyment for me. From only one photo, she listed
dozens of memories.
Take, for example, Sharon’s memories of
saddle oxfords. Her post reminded me that every morning before school, I spent
a lot of time polishing my saddle oxfords—the white part and the black part.
And I’d forgotten all about my Ivy League
saddle oxfords with the oh-so-cool little buckle in back. (I think Ivy League
saddle oxfords need to come back in style, don’t you?)
And then there was Sharon’s memory of Natalie
Wood using Scotch Tape to keep her bangs in place while they dried—yep, I did
that, too.
Sharon’s post, Photographic Memory Jolts, is a fun read, a treasure trove of
history especially if you’re my age—and all from just one photo!
How about you? Pull out an old photo
related to one of your vignettes.
What emotions does it stir up?
What smells come to mind? What
textures? Sounds? Tastes?
What styles of clothes, eyeglasses,
hairstyles, shoes, furniture, and architecture does the photo capture?
What songs were popular during that
era?
Does the photo raise questions?
In later years, what happened to people
in the picture?
What happened just before the photo was
taken? Just afterward?
Was something significant brewing at
the time, but you didn’t know it until later?
Does the photo remind you of additional
stories?
Go beyond looking at your
old photos.
They embrace more than
your eyes see. Look into them.
Listen. Smell. Feel.
Taste. Relive. Unravel. Reflect.
I have a hunch you’ll discover details
that will add gusto to your stories.
Have fun!
