Over break, I delved for the first time into my memoir piece. It was heavy, like lifting a sack of potatoes at mid-arm level up several flights of stairs. I found content in that creative cave of my mind...although, it was not what I was expecting. Professor McCann told me once that you’ve found something golden in material when two things happen: you are substantially surprised at what came out, or you literally have tears because of it. They could be of joy, of being moved, of the memories that you’re reliving being closer than your hands, right in front of your eyes.
So, the major challenge that I’ve had with my piece so far is avoiding sentiment, yet expressing deep emotion. I have to think twice as hard. The deep pool of stuff to draw from seems to translate as a little puddle on paper, in print. How do I draw from it and convey its depth when someone picks up the narrative and reads it? How do I find that point where the words become a powerful, yet quiet train that goes straight through the noise of the surrounding circumstances and places and right to the sound proof cavern that houses deep thought?
One thing that I have discovered that I rely on is very loud, screaming diction. Sometimes it’s needed. Most of the time, however, it is the gentle, quiet imagery that is the most powerful. Annie Dillard, Rachel Richardson (a southern poet I discovered), and Michael McGriff all have a way with word choice that I marvel at. A gimmick that I have relied upon in the past with my writing is the images tend to be a smoke and mirrors trick; sometimes I don’t even know what I’m saying.
Hello, I’m Celinda, and I’m a screaming diction junkie. (Hiiiii, Celinda).
Don’t get me wrong; I’m drawn to stark, somewhat gritty imagery. But the trick is to use it in a way that is calm, quiet, and tailored to the moment and line of the piece. I hope to work on this for the unraveling of my longer prose piece, as well as my poetry.
Hiii Celinda the diction junkie!
ReplyDeleteIt's so interesting for me to read your experience with memoir because I think I suffer from the opposite problem. I have trouble bringing my memories to life and not making the whole thing sound like a paper assigned in 7th grade about what you did last summer. I think it's because I'm afraid to rely too much on my imagination: where my mind has failed to hold onto vivid detail, I worry about blurring the line between truth and falsehood.
That's why I'm such a strong advocate for writing memoir on the side of telling your own truth, even if every detail isn't perfectly accurate. If I don't place myself on that side of the line, I struggle way too much with sounding academic and not bringing any emotion to the table.
I think you'll find that the deep pool of emotion opens itself over time as you continue to write and rewrite. I don't think I've ever hit it on my first time through. You can do it!
--Ashley
Hi Celinda, I know exactly what you mean by being a diction junkie! I have a lot of the same problem, and I've also noticed that the best writers make their writing powerful by keeping the diction spare but strong. When something's important and I'm emotionally involved in what I'm writing, I like to get carried away in putting words into the drama and "showing off" all of my "fabulous" diction skills. It's the still small voice that affects people most though.
ReplyDeleteI once read about an actress who always moved the audience to tears with her crying scenes. When she was asked what she did that made it so powerful, she responded that she would only heave and sniff (or something like that)--play it out enough that people could see she was crying, but not making a big show out of it. This story has really affected how I handle emotional power in my writing, and I've noticed that more often than not, that's the kind of writing that really grabs people and makes them care.
Nice observations here!
Amanda
Keeping from being overly sentimental while still keep the intense emotion in a piece is so challenging! On the one hand, of course you want it to be as dramatic as it felt. On the other hand, if you go too far, people will be unbelieving and possibly laughing out loud. Not to mention that when it's memoir, it's your own story with personal attachments all over the place. I don't have answers...but I do have empathy!
ReplyDeleteGood post, Celinda. I especially liked this part of what you said: "How do I find that point where the words become a powerful, yet quiet train that goes straight through the noise of the surrounding circumstances and places and right to the sound proof cavern that houses deep thought?" Amazing! Sometimes it seems like a train is roaring through, but you have to quiet everything down and write with control and know your thoughts. I like that you have a hard time keeping too much sentiment out of your writing. I am the flip-side of that. I need to put more sentiment (and me) into what I'm writing.
ReplyDeleteAs you have been working, have you found any tips for showing that emotion in a believable way? I am working on fiction, not memoir, but I have been very emotionally disconnected from my writing, both in capstone and in general. I live a very emotional life, but that doesn't seem to be expressed in what I am writing. If I can't get my emotion into my writing, my self won't be in my writing, and it won't be all it can be. Let me know what you discover about deep emotion instead of sentimentality, and I will share anything I learn!
ReplyDeleteI think there's another response that happens when you write: praise God I got that off my chest!! When I first came to nwc I didn't know much about blogs. Then I met Lauren and she told me about her blog. I asked her when she knew she had to blog something and she said she only wrote when she felt "like train was gonna come out" of her. Now I understand that feeling. There's this sense of urgency and then it just pops out when you give it the chance. It might not be good, but at least it's out. I'm struggeling with memoir too. Mostly I look at the stuff I write and say, "What am I even trying to say here?" It gets to be where they're quaint little stories on the page but they're not revealing anything fantastic. It's also been pointed out to me that I like to "breeze over" the deepest parts of me. I basically mock my reader saying, "You don't get to know." But that doesn't really work for memoir.:)
ReplyDeleteAh yes, sentiment.
ReplyDeleteIt's so easy to get a lot of CHEESE in a piece. I feel you there. I struggle with this all the time because it seems like it is so easy to say quaint, tacky things in stories instead of painting literary images. (Who decided the difference in that anyways?) I commend you though for pushing through all the mud and working to sort out what makes something stark and lovely vs. cheap.
I'm glad you're a screaming diction junkie. That's what makes your writing so wonderful. It makes me think, though, about why screaming diction is so attractive to us. Is it our individualistic culture that simply likes seeing/hearing new things? Or is there something else golden behind it all? I think God gave us the ability to come up with new, striking ideas, so maybe that's why it all seems so wonderful :)
Mm. I just love these comments. This is getting fun.
ReplyDeleteDiction is an addiction. It's impulsive to spew it out and very difficult to cultivate just the right voice. Memoirs can have the capacity completely freak us out because we want to get them JUST RIGHT... and we often overdo it.
It's your own story! Own up to your memory and write from the heart. Connect your reality with your pen (or fingertips.) This is difficult stuff, but I appreciate the potential that memoirs can provide in our lives. Healing, brokenness, revealed truth. If your character is you, and you don't like you, you better learn to like yourself enough to do yourself justice. Your story is beautiful.
Who knew that capstone would be like psychiatry? Good ideas here Celinda.