The threads that hold our stories together are often invisible. – Rachel Laverdiere (upon writing this post)
This week, my mother told me on the phone, “I’m amazed at how your mind works!” (And the expression in her voice told me it wasn’t a bad thing. This time.) She went on to say that she has no idea how I come up with the ideas for these blog posts. She wonders how I manage so many threads through these posts and marvels at how they come out neatly woven together at the end. And, I tell you, I breathed a sigh of relief.
The truth? As with my life, I’m just making this up as I go and crossing my finger that it all works out.
…in classes where writing technique is taught, the brain is educated, and in that process writing improves among participants, along with their desire to use language appropriately. As they dig deeper into the subconscious, old memories and new truths, perhaps honed by experience, emerge. – Charlene Smith
Hey Rach, how do you get ideas for these posts?
To be completely honest, I have absolutely no idea. Monday mornings, I wake up, linger for a few minutes in my comfy bed and hope some thought/question/idea/image (or, if I’m being honest, a combination of those) will magically appear. Sometimes, this happens. More often, it doesn’t. So, I come downstairs, harass my dogs, and, while I wait for a strong cup of coffee to brew, I Tweet my daily lines on Twitter. Coffee in hand, I open up a Word Document and hope for inspiration–that once my fingers make contact with the keyboard, they’ll do that legwork on their own. This is exactly what just happened.
Ok, but…those threads your mother talked about?
Ummm… wellllllll…it’s a mystery, even to me. Sometimes as the words are spouting at the fingertips, I get a little uneasy. For example, last week’s post about practise in pottery and poetry? I woke with the idea that I should post photos of my pottery because my mother hasn’t seen them and I know some of you might be interested. My mind must have been pre-occupied with the writing class I’m taking (Polish Your Prose and Poetry—which, wowzas, all writers should consider taking) because there I was weaving in information and epiphanies from that class! The threads wove themselves together.
More truth: although I tend to over-analyze the world around me, it’s hard for me to see the how and why of my own actions. Maybe it’s because I’m taking a step back, but when I sit down to write a post, reflective process allows what’s been happening in my life come to the surface. And poof! the epiphanies appear.
I just hope my narrative threads hold up as well when I’m working on my CNF and short stories!
Any other questions? Maybe something less difficult to answer 😉
Sure, how’s Camp NaNoWriMo going?
Now that is something I can easily answer!
It’s going very well now that I’ve given it structure. Actually, this is an example of those epiphanies that happen at the keyboard! In answering this question, I realize that the first few days of Camp NaNo were a disaster—I’d simply set out to finish CNF (Creative NonFiction) pieces from the past and had a list of “ideas” to write about. It sucked—so made up a Plan B. I dusted off The Rose Metal Press Field Gide to Writing Flash Nonfiction: Advice and Essential Exercises from Respected Writers, Editors, and Teachers edited by Dinty W. Moore. It’s broken up into 26 digestible chapters, each written by a different CNF writer, each consisting of a “lesson,” writing prompt and a sample essay. It’s fabulous! I’m re-reading this gem. This time I’m putting in the work, so I’m retaining what I’m reading.
aka: writing = Free therapy
Threads that Hold Me Afloat
CNF doubles as healthy catharsis and is a great help to my goal of decluttering both my mind and my hard-drive. A few days ago, a lesson by Brent Lot had me write in a place of inspiration. (It was too cold to go to the park near my house, so I chose my kitchen, where I do most of my writing.) Next, I had to choose three things that drew my attention.I chose a photo I took of my son at the beach when he was almost four, the jug and basin that’s been in my vicinity since birth, and the “bird-bowl I made last year in my hand-building class. I wove the essence of those three dissimilar items together in the end. I had no idea there was a relationship until my final paragraph–that’s also how these blog posts work.
This exercise filled me with wonder: All around us, there are connections we cannot see. It’s like they weave their own threads and hold us afloat—or maybe it’s that they form an invisible safety net.
A bit of gratitude
- I am thankful for discoveries I make while writing this blog. Without your eyes caressing these words, there would be no point to keep writing, which would mean less epiphanies in my life.For example, in writing this post, I’ve done a bit of research and discovered that I am on the right track—I’m not just making this up as I go!
Research has confirmed that writing about emotionally charged memories is good for the health of the writer—and not just her psyche.
I imagine catharsis as an evolutionary adaptation, nature’s mechanism of positive reinforcement. Catharsis feels good, so writers seek to recreate the experience, in this case by continuing to write about troubling experiences. This initial purge can lead to mulling over, which results in new ways of seeing old problems and an evolution of thought.– Tara DaPra
- I am thankful for the risks I have taken—not that they’ve always yielded the anticipated results, but they’ve given me a lot of stories to tell. Hopefully, somewhere along the way, my sharing them will touch someone along the way.
- I am thankful for this newfound and unfamiliar freedom I’ve finally allowed myself. I hope you will eventually ease into a more peaceful way of being if you haven’t already.
- Lastly, I am thankful that you don’t criticize my laziness in not editing these posts. Maybe that’s something I need to work on next 😉
Past Posts you might enjoy revisiting:
Articles worth reading
Finding Narrative Threads: Your Brain on Writing
Writing Memoir and Writing for Therapy: An Inquiry on the Functions of Reflection