Why Should A Writer Bleed On The Page? Isn’t It Time To Open A Vein?

 

… continuing part III of What Do You As A Writer Bring To The Page?

Picture of my parents above ... winter of 1954, my father was leaving that day. He's a Korean War veteran. My mother was not happy. You can see it in her face here.

Until I met my husband, pursuing the passion and dream of writing was something I did alone. He afforded me the time to devote to my craft, which I soon realized was not enough.

As storytellers, surviving life’s heartaches and hardships leave the residue of so much conflict to write about. Without the struggle, we do not possess the understanding and compassion, the inward fortitude to pursue our dreams that often seem so out of reach.

And for all of this, you need to put a smile on your face today. My purpose for this post is to offer encouragement. To help you separate the sheep from the goats. The wheat from the tares. The bland, “so-what” writing of telling and not showing. It’s time to pull emotional appeal out of your gut, from your heart, and raise the stakes. Time to create an original and unique voice that will live long after you are gone. Time to bleed on the page.

“The question isn’t  who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me.” – Ayn Rand

Be a fearless writer. Make the decision you’re going to do whatever it takes. Sometimes ... you just got to open that vein.

What are the events in your life, or in others lives with which you are intimate, that possess powerful magic to influence the stories you create?

I wrote Southern Fried Women during different eras of my life. Growing up in a Pentecostal fundamental congregation, I experienced a world reaching from the backwoods and hollers of West Virginia into the great and grand cathedrals of several high-tech megachurches. Living through my own dark days in televangelism, it inspired me to weave religion, spirituality, and the unexplained into my stories … stories that hint to an ancient bridge where the real and the supernatural meet. The biblical kind of supernatural that exists in all deep-rooted religious families.

In the beginning, I wanted to inform and enlighten the minds of my readers, but I learned something about myself in the process of writing my stories. I learned that what I wanted even more was to kick-start their hearts. For me, faith and spirituality have a way of doing that like nothing else.

My point is that as I look back, the horrific darkness I went through gave me a keen insight into the mind and life of struggling and desperate women. Women that I began to write about. The sparks of passion to develop my stories became a burning and all-consuming flame. As I wrote, the blinders lifted off my eyes and my ears became unplugged. I heard myself laughing, crying out, screaming and whispering secrets through the characters I created.

It seems no matter what I write, I draw from those times of tragedy and of triumph. Of horrific and hilariously funny times when all I could do was cry or laugh.

I strongly suggest you draw from your past, from the dark places you don’t want to think about anymore, of love lost and of love sought and found. From those desperate times you will find the words needed to fully develop the characters you were meant to create.

Nobody’s life has been a bowl of soft rose petals spread upon a fine, feather mattress. Somewhere you have experienced pain. The rain falls on the just and the unjust. It comes to us all. So use it. Draw from your own well. Your stories will deepen, strengthen, and yes—matter! At the lowest point in my life, my faith and the ability to write it down became my life preserver. It changed me, as woman, and as a writer.

Draw from your darkest hours and your fondest memories. Life is too short for too many regrets. If you want to be a successful writer, grab it with both hands. If it changes your life, let it.  I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I can promise it’ll be worth it.

Blessings to you and yours.

What Is Raw, Honest Writing?

… continuing part II of What Do You As A Writer Bring To The Page?

Are you able to bring your heartbreak to the page? The pain of loss, rejection, abandonment, can you write about it? Can you pull from your most horrific memories, as well as your most joyous? What I’m talking about has nothing to do with your writing degree or your awards. Although commendable, and certainly admirable, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m asking, what do you--as a living, breathing, human being--bring to the page?

Dorothy Allison’s words at the Maui Writer’s Conference year ago were piercing. Delivered with pastoral fire and an urgency she said, “I’m here to deliver black coffee, I’m here to leaven your experience. I’m here to tell you part of why I’m a writer is that it’s one of the professions where you can be a fat girl and make it! Writers come to the page for many, many reasons. In fact, many of us DO come in the hope of justice, we DO come in the hope of balance, we DO come with an agenda of love, but I’m TELLING YOU NOW, lots of us start with a desire for genuine REVENGE.”

Do you bring revenge to your written pages? Anger? Truth?

“Lighten up,” you say? Okay. Sure.

You don’t need some deep, dark reason to write. You can definitely write for fun. Many do. Except that in my honest and humble opinion, the writing that lasts for generations is gathered from the cobwebbed corners of a writer’s mind. Those basements and attics where most writers fear to tread, but some go anyway.

“But,” you say, “I write humor.”

Ah, yes.  Well, dissect that funny stuff. Where does it come from? Most of it comes from pain. You know that old cliché, usually spoken in the midst of fear or anger. “We’re going to laugh about this later.” Laughter through tears ... is it not a powerful emotion? Many believe the angrier you are, the funnier you need to be. Take that to the page.

So don’t just write what you know. Write what you care about, what you feel deep in your gut. What you’ve seen. The heart-wrenching moments that cut deep into your mind and heart. Write about that. Write about the scars. Who gave them to you, and how you healed, or how you still suffer from those scars. Those hurts that won't heal. Give your character a piece of your life story you want to share with the world. Dig out the best and worst of your memories, and include them in your stories. It’s called raw, honest writing.

Write not just what you know, but what matters most to you. What has brought you out of a deep, dark spot? What makes you uncomfortable? Write your passions, your desires, what moves you. Write that.

Those are the guts of a good story. Bring that to the page.

In the late ‘nineties, I clawed my way out of a long, bleak period in my life. It not only developed an edge in my writing, but throughout those years, what kept me sane was journaling and reading every piece of fiction I could get my hands on.

I had secretly studied the craft of writing. When my friends and family found out about it, they adamantly let me know that writing was a big waste of my time. That because of my circumstances I needed to put my nose to the grindstone, and continue to collect that paycheck. “Don’t be a fool, Pam … few make it as writers … you’ll never write a book … are you crazy?”

I’m here to tell you, if it hasn’t happened already, someone along the way will question your commitment. Your work will continue to be rejected by not only those you know, but the publishing community. On your way to publishing, you will question your ability, your purpose, and your sanity. Even after you're published, you're still bombarded with the same mental anguish. I’m telling you so when it hits, you’ll recognize it for what it is. It’s part of the job. 

Writing is a profession where you pour your guts out on the page, bleed over every chapter, spend years writing the best story your mind, heart, and fingers can produce, labor days and nights on perfecting work that may or may never be seen ... and somebody is always waiting in the wings to tell you how bad you suck.

Sometimes, after reading over your work for the millionth time, you will still find mistakes. You cry, pound your fist on the keyboard, run your hand through your hair and think -- they’re right. I suck. Which is how I felt when the above picture was taken. I was at that Southern restaurant, Sticky Fingers, talking about how bad I sucked as a writer and had one too many cold ones.

 

Anway, you get my point. You begin to understand that perfection can only be born out of rejection and mentors pointing out the obvious. Obvious to everyone but you. And yet, even then, the perfect manuscript does not exist.

Rejection is not only part of becoming a bonifide writer, it’s crucial that it happens. And often. Each “Thanks but no thanks” – each “NO” is a brick upon which we build our tower to Publishing Glory. A writer who has not experienced the critical reviews of their peers, the public, and those within the industry is missing something special. They’re missing the chance to experience the rush of adrenaline that fuels the fire inside to never give up. It’s a writer’s high. A necessary surge of energy to survive in this business.

Come back again soon … there’s more to come in this series … What Do You Bring To The Page?

Blessings to you and yours.

When You Can't Find Your Courage



 

To me, the hardest jobs in the world are … coal miners, deep sea divers, living on a submarine, painting high bridges, skyscraper builders and window washers, prison guards, firefighters, policemen, garbage men, working with the mentally challenged, roofers, emergency room nurses, street pavers, brain surgeons, and farmers.

The physical stamina required for these positions is near god-like. It's tough to find the words needed to describe the courage that must be found to wake up every day and face these jobs.

It doesn’t take much physical stamina to sit at a desk and type all day. I don’t want to be a brain surgeon, or even a coal miner.

I just want to write great literature.

But I have to wake up … every day … and find my courage. Just like the brain surgeon.

The next time you can't find the courage to face your day, think about the iron men teetering on that steel I-beam 70 stories in the air. Those New York City skyscrapers don't build themselves. Think about the coal miner dropped miles underground to dig coal in the dark, cold earth. Think about the emergency room nurse fighting to save the next car accident victim.

We writers may not put our lives on the line, but we put them on the page. And that, my friend, still takes courage. Writers can do without a lot of things. Courage isn't one of them.

Remember that.

Blessings to you and yours.