Tag Archives: story

Make Your Story: Reframing a Childhood

30 May
Kaj_Family_reunion_group_1988

How many points of view are in this picture?

 

Have you ever imagined scenes from your life story using entirely different points of view?

I don’t know why you would. Your story is your story because it’s yours, and your point of view matters most in your own story.

Recently, I was given reason to re-examine key scenes in my childhood. New information reorganized everything. It made me wonder why I hadn’t seen it or even guessed it before, and why I needed this Other Truth in order to see my story from a different point of view. There was no way to know this Truth, but I’m imaginative – I might have guessed.

How about you? What didn’t you see? What couldn’t you have known?

Your story is the sum of the decisions you make, but, always, around that story are family, friends, teachers, allies, coaches, clergy, neighbors, social workers, previously unknown family members, police officers, your parents’ co-workers, maybe even political figures or celebrities, all making decisions that impacted you, maybe in ways you could not control, and never fully appreciated until later. Until now.

A story changes dramatically depending on who tells it. Can you imagine your story told from another point of view? Is it possible to tell our own stories where we are not the champion achieving, the victim suffering, or the young hero struggling, where we are something else than we’ve been telling ourselves our whole lives?

Because we are. We take on different archetypal roles, in differing points of view.

Writing Prompt #1: Recall a figure from your past who made a decision that had life-changing impact on you. Don’t pick anything overly traumatic or devastating, please.  (We’ll get to those sorts of scenes another time). Pick a figure from your past who diverted your course or changed your point of view dramatically.

Imagine that person, their decision, and a scene that exemplifies their agenda,  position, and biases. Write from their specific angle, not through your eyes. Imagine the scene through their profession, age, gender, and with their senses. Get in their bodies to write.

Render this re-envisioning as realistically as possible. Tell the story as straight as you can, as respectfully to the other person’s agenda as you can.

Write 500 words. Keep your hand/fingers moving until you reach the word count. Don’t stop. Don’t second-guess. Don’t edit.

Writing Prompt #2: Pick a scene from your life (childhood?) with lots of people in it. A religious gathering where something big was revealed or a wild drunken family reunion with tension about money, ancient intergenerational grievances. It’s gotta have some edge to it, and you need to have been there.

Write that well-known scene from the point of view of someone other than you and preferably not someone close to you or in your sphere of immediate influence. Pick someone whose actions and reactions will be remarkably different if not “opposite” from the way you and the way you’ve remembered this scene.

For this one, it’s ok to really let your imagination fly. Bring in fantastical elements if you like, if that helps you imagine other agendas. Doesn’t have to be starkly realistic.

Write 500 words. Keep your hand/fingers moving until you reach the word count.

 

Photo credit: By Family assistant (Demitz files, acquired by FamSAC) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Make Your Story: How to Really See

27 May
IMG_1502.JPG

“Woman Smoking” by Barth Anderson

Consider drawing some shadows.

I’ve taken up pencil drawing recently and learning to draw shadows is illuminating (don’t hurt me).

Drawing shadows is a little like learning to see inside-out. I have to look at something and see where the pencil will touch and be darkest instead of following the outer line of what I want to draw, the contour, the weight, or the most distinguishing feature. Most of the time, the shadow is precisely where my eye does not land or see.

So to teach myself to start seeing darkness, I started drawing stills from Noir movies and black and white photography with heavy-duty shadows. That’s what the above drawing is — an attempt to draw the shadows that someone else has identified for me.

Now that I’ve done this for a couple weeks, I can see shadows much better. When I look at the pine bush in my backyard, I see a green cylinder of shades, depth in the branches and needles. and I see deeper into the shape. I see past the label in my brain of what that plant is in the backyard, PINE BUSH, and I now see it differently. I see a different thing altogether.

I’m struck how seeing with new eyes has come to bear on my writing in such a short amount of time.

I think this is because these “new eyes” are how Dream Barth sees things. Day Barth just sees PINE BUSH, if he even sees it at all. He already thinks he KNOWS what it is, so doesn’t even really look at it, as he stops right in front of it to ask himself, “Did I bring my keys?” Dream Barth really looks at this big plant and goes, “Oh cool, it looks like a great big jack-o-lantern! See the how shadows make a face?”

I see everything differently now as a result of taking up sketching and drawing shadows. Of course, I am aware of the light and the bright color of leaves in sunlight but it’s not where I put my eye right now. When I walk through the park to my bus stop, I see a bank of interesting shadows across the trees or I see a hallway of shadows leading into the trees, to the shadows on the bark of the trunks. I’m more aware of where the light is coming from, the angle with which it hits the branches, and how tree-shadows are made.

Seeing with new eyes. New to me. A new way to look at the world all around, almost like a new sense organ.

As a writer, do you fully experience what you’re writing about? Do you smell it and taste it? Does your mind leap and make almost childlike associations about the thing you’re imagining, remembering, building in your mind? Do you really see it or do you just know it and write about it like Day Barth pausing by the pine bush to look for his goddamn keys?

Take time to see your creations the way the dream version of yourself might see them. Look through your dream eyes and cock a dream ear. I know your Imagination is always hungry for this pause, this slower more deliberate focus on things themselves. I know it. I’ve experienced it.

Writing Prompt #1 – Put everything down – the laptop screen, your notebook, your notes. Sit quietly for a good five minutes.

After five minutes, start thinking about your main character or any important person in your life whom you think you know well.  Imagine them in a situation you haven’t seen them in before or in a scene you would never include in your book. They’re on a modern day rooftop looking at a storm coming in. They’re eating a mango in a foreign country. If it’s slightly incongruous (but not surreal), that’s ok, too, maybe even better. Let your mind fantasize about their very physical presence in this scene. Don’t just ask yourself “what are they wearing?” and be done. Ask what shadows are being cast upon their bodies. Are they from from pronounced cheekbones? From their pronounced chin, their deep eye sockets? Or a hat? What do they smell like? If you touched them, what would their skin, their hair feel like?  If you kissed them, what would their mouth taste like right now? Don’t think about THEIR experience. Experience them through your own five senses — all of them. Then write down everything you just fantasized.

500 words. No stopping at all. Keep going if you hit the word count, but don’t stop before you do.

Writing Prompt #2 – Write a list of five mythological animals or beings. Now make a list of five people you know very well, or use characters from your story. Randomly pick a person and a mythological creature. Write how each person is like their corresponding critter, but ONLY use senses of smell, sound, touch and/or taste. No visuals.

500 words. DO NOT STOP till the word count is meant. Keep going if you hit it, but don’t stop before you do.

Make Your Story: Typing the Truth

30 Apr

Consider that your life-story isn’t a bee-line.

It’s at least four stories told in concert whose voices, if executed well, will surge and sing out at different points like four-part harmony or four-piece jazz with solos.

One of these storylines could be very old, maybe a previous generation’s that carries through to your present story. If you choose correctly, this one will act as a firm thumping bassline throughout, one that you (and your audience) will return to often because the past is crucial evidence about you. It needn’t be ancient but it would be best if it were open-ended, unfinished, and not a flashback.

Which old story will you choose?

Is it your birth story? How your family came to live where you were born? Why you are named what you’re named? An ancestor’s decision still echoing in your life now? A story only you know? A secret or a lie or a still-secret lie? Could you do that? Make that secret lie known? Make it part of your story?

WRITING PROMPT #1: Write your birth story or story behind your name so that the last line of your writing ends with, “…and that’s how I came to be sitting here typing these words.”

WRITING PROMPT #2: 500 words. Write the most dangerous truth you have ever written. The one that could destroy lives. Don’t hold back for fear of offending or betraying or hurting anyone else. Type it. Then delete your writing or burn it it if you want to.

Or begin your memoir from there.

veritas

Raffaele Monti’s “Under the Veil” of Veritas, Roman Goddess of Truth. Destroyed 1936.

Make Your Story is a series of articles by novelist Barth Anderson about things you might consider when writing your life-story, autobiography, or when mining personal material for your art. 

In approaching your life story, consider that you might not know it as well as you think you do. Consider your own life the way you might consider a stranger’s. Consider it unknown territory. Consider what you’ve never considered before.

Make Your Story: Flashbacks

28 Apr

Make Your Story is a series of articles by novelist Barth Anderson about things you might consider when writing your life-story, autobiography, or when mining personal material for your art. 

In approaching your life story, consider that you might not know it as well as you think you do. Consider your own life the way you might consider a stranger’s. Consider it unknown territory. Consider what you’ve never considered before.

Consider your flashbacks.

Your life-story isn’t one long flashback. It’s a narrative that incorporates a handful of flashbacks to create a particular dramatic effect of your choosing.

When you look at old pictures of someone you didn’t know twenty years ago, this dramatic effect is instant, often comical. You see them in funny haircuts and wildly different clothes. Their cosmetic game is entirely different. On point, but – wow. The effect is jarring because you know them as one person, but two decades earlier, they were someone you barely recognize.

This is elemental storytelling 101. Storytelling is change. A character was this, but then they became that. Flashbacks perform this change instantaneously while also setting up further plot-points, for greater change down the line. Dramatic gas for multiple storytelling engines: flashbacks.

But more than a fun costume change, a well-considered flashback can be used to drop your life-story’s main character right into boiling water. That’s a stronger dramatic effect than the reader seeing you in acid-wash jeans and a mullet: The character we’ve come to identify with was in trouble as a kid. That’s going to cut closer to the reader’s heart.

And yours.

What was “the boiling water” when you were twelve? When you were four? What made that water so dangerous and hot to begin with? Why in the world was a four-year-old thrown into boiling water? Who did that to you? Who tried to help? Why couldn’t they stop it? Why didn’t you perish? What was the fallout from that horrible scene?

The answers to those questions will create dramatic tension/contrast with the main narrative of your life-story.

You don’t have to flashback to agony and pain, of course, but whatever mood you set up in the main narrative should be contrasted in flashback. If it’s a humorous story in the “now,” then maybe the flashback should show something somber. If the mood is dour in the now, consider flashbacking to color and a dance of emotion.

The worst thing you can do with a flashback is make a static image of yourself that makes the flashback stand as a prop, an old-fashioned jacket that doesn’t get worn and has no effect, dramatic or aesthetic, on the story as a whole. This is a kind of forgetfulness on your part, letting the memory of a memory stand in for actual observation from you as a writer. To avoid this, you need to see yourself in the past the way you see yourself now, someone faced with possibilities and choices — yes, even as a child you had choices. Previous choices will make flashbacks dance. Consider those around you if you are remembering a time when you were very young. The people around you-as-a-child had thousands of choices to make that had a bearing on what you became, the choices you eventually made when you were older. They might have more to do with you than you realize, even if you think you know your story.

Exercise time:

Consider a flashback scene. Consider a time when you were very young. But rather than writing from the point of view of you as a child, write it from the angle of someone near you, back then. Drop yourself into a fierce, sharp, or passionate agenda of someone responsible for you. Or opposed to you. Account for that character’s agenda in your scene. If they are a villain, make them villainous, but make them round and believable with tone and realness. 500 words. Keep your pen/keyboard moving. Go.

lethe

Gustav Dore, “Dante Submerged in the River Lethe”

 

 

Make Your Story: Welcome to the Beginning

27 Apr

Make Your Story is a series of articles by novelist Barth Anderson about things you might consider when writing your life-story, autobiography, or when mining personal material for your art. 

In approaching your life story, you should consider that you might not know it as well as you think you do. Consider your own life the way you might consider a stranger’s. Consider it unknown territory. Terra incognita. If you don’t, you’ll miss diamonds hiding in the shadows and truths you never considered. Consider what you’ve never considered before.

Consider your life-story’s beginning.

Where would you start? Don’t be too chronological. If you were going to start writing your story right this minute, what would the first scene be? Consider a vibrant welcome for your reader as she walks through the doorway of your story. Consider your most crucial moment. Consider your greatest triumph. Consider what’s actually fascinating to other people. About you.

What’s the hook to being you?

#makeyourstory

Janus god Sculpture

Janus, Roman God of Doorways