Writing the Hard Stuff: Seven Things You Need to Know
Tell me if you can relate to this: You’re deep into your writing and everyone else in the house is asleep, even the dog. You’re crying as you type, wiping at your face in order to see the computer screen, unwilling to leave your keyboard to get a tissue. In fact, you’re so completely in the scene, wrapped up by the sounds and smells, you don’t even notice someone has slipped into the room with you – a daughter or husband who has heard your sobs. Worry on their face, they shake their head and ask why you’re putting yourself through the pain and not fleeing. Sound familiar?
I feel your pain. I spent six years experiencing that scenario while writing my memoir, Boot Language, which came out last fall. I learned a lot along the way, which helped me gain momentum and craft a compelling book. I know a thing or two about holding my own when writing the hard stuff, and I’d like to share the seven things you need to know if you’re writing a memoir and want to stay sane.
- Embrace your life.
We all have past trauma we’d rather not think about. It’s so much more comfortable to lead the life you wish you had. If you’re like me, in order to fit in, you might, when sitting with friends as they chat about their childhoods, make up some lovely “memories” of your own. But it’s only through facing the past and accepting the truth that we begin to heal. Everything you’ve experienced has made you who you are today. If I hadn’t walked the rocky path of my youth, I would not have become a teacher who made it her mission to make a difference, to help children who were unseen or overlooked. Kids like me.
- Face your fear.
When I began working on Boot Language, there were times I thought I’d shatter from the pain of facing my dragons every time I sat down to write, that I’d be reduced to the fearful child I had been so long ago, undoing all the good work I had done become the confident woman I am today. But I was surprised to find that the more I faced my fears, the stronger I felt. And the stronger I felt, the more I wrote. Although seemingly counterintuitive, this was the golden key to writing the truth. Facing the fear was a good thing. Soon I was on fire, and the stories poured out.
- Be realistic.
I believe there is no complete cure for trauma. This flies in the face of what our society tells us: that if we join this support group, take that medication, spend years in therapy, join this religion, our past traumas will vanish. Nonsense! Past trauma is part of us. For me, it comes back into my life when I least expect it, like stray bullets. Add to that the shame carried by trauma sufferers, as we ask ourselves, Why am I not over this yet?! But take heart: writing and sharing our memories does diminish the sharp edge of trauma. It helps.
- Get outside.
For many authors, taking a walk outside is an act of daily reflection. I tend to walk along the coast or in a forest – whether it’s in the Sierra Nevada Mountains or the coastal Redwood forests near my home. Nature helps me get outside of my head and step away from my problems. My hiking boots hit the dirt and I fall into the rhythm of the land and ocean that supports us all. Most of all, being in nature helps me gain perspective, shows me that I am part of something much bigger than myself.
- Find your community.
One of the best ways to commit to your writing is to find your tribe. Mine is a weekly feedback group in the hands of best-selling author Laura Davis. Our commitment to meeting every week curtails procrastination and allows us to get inside the thoughts of other published authors. This, in turn, inspires us to improve our own stories. Whether your tribe is a drop-in writing class at your local coffee shop or an online class, it really doesn’t matter. Commit to a group or just one writing buddy. Share your work. Listen to others.
- Believe in your book.
Your book is important. If you don’t believe in it, who will? Yet this lack of confidence happens all the time. We spend years crafting the story we want, and when it comes time to talk about what our book is about or why it’s important, we’re tongue-tied. I too am guilty of this. When I first started, I knew the message in Boot Language was important but was afraid I’d offend people or wouldn’t be taken seriously. There were also remnants of my father’s voice in my head muttering, Who do you think you are?! It’s up to us to stand tall and toot our own horns.
- Help others.
Producing a book isn’t just about furthering ourselves and our own stories – it’s also about listening to the needs of others and helping where we can. It’s about sharing teachings, insights and experiences. This graciousness is invaluable to our community. When I taught in the classroom and spent my free time learning something new and different that might help a teacher, I shared what I had learned to anyone who wanted it. And now in my writers’ feedback group, I often share my mistakes, attempts and successes in my publishing journey, which guides others who are on the same path. Helping makes us human. Share your wisdom!
—
About Vanya Erickson
Vanya Erickson used to photograph and haul horses for a living. For the last twenty-five years she has been mentoring teachers while teaching writing and public speaking in the oldest continuously used schoolhouse in California. She loves hiking the High Sierras and coastal redwood forests, as well as dramatically reading aloud to children―especially her granddaughter and grandniece. Erickson holds a BA in comparative literature and a teaching credential from the University of California at Santa Cruz. Her essays have appeared in a dozen literary journals and anthologies, and in the book The Magic of Memoir. Her book , Boot Language, about growing up on a ranch during the Vietnam era, was released in August 2018. Find out more about her at www.vanyaerickson.com.
About Boot Language
From the outside, Vanya’s childhood looked idyllic: she rode horses with her father in the solitude of the Sierra Nevada Mountains and attended flamboyant operas with her mother in the city. But life for Vanya and her family turned dark when ghosts from her father’s service on a Pacific destroyer in World War II tore her family apart.
Set in postwar California, this is the story of a girl who tried to make sense of her parents’ unpredictable actions—from being left to lie in her own blood-soaked diaper while her Christian Scientist mother prayed, refusing to get medical help to watching her father writhe on his bed in the detox ward, his hands and feet tethered with leather straps—by immersing herself in the beauty and solitude of the wilderness around her. It was only decades later, when memories began to haunt her, that Vanya was able to look back with unflinching honesty and tender compassion for her family and herself. In this elegant, haunting narrative, Erickson invites us to witness it all—from the gripping, often disturbing, truths of her childhood to her ultimate survival.
Category: How To and Tips, On Writing
Subscribe
If you enjoyed this article, subscribe to receive more just like it.
