Inside Each Person, a Book

It is said that everyone has at least one book inside. It may be the story of an event, a historical moment or a noteworthy comment on a problem of the day. It might be feeling a gentle nudge every time you open a book, knowing that you could convey that very thought more clearly, more forcefully or with greater wit. Or it could be a nagging inner voice that says your work on earth is still unfinished. Whatever the prompt, it’s worth considering. One page per day and you would have written a book within a year.

Memoirs contain what has been lived. They range from the personal history of Barak Obama, the reflections of Tom Brokaw on his Great Generation, to the tribute written by the son of author, Susan Sontag, chronicling her battle with cancer. That is not to say that every memoir will conjure remarkable sales. But there are other rewards. Beyond the sheer joy of seeing thoughts take flower, there is value to those around you. How many times have you asked Granny Grace or Uncle Bill about events they’d experienced, learning about Johnny’s broken arm when he fell out of the tree or about Uncle Rudy’s triumph over tuberculosis? How often have pictures been left a puzzle because those whose lives they touched are now gone?

So after a timid “maybe,” you’ve decided to scratch that itch, to answer your daughter’s questions in a structured way. You have decided to write a book.

You start with voice. If the narrator is “I” (first person point of view) the story will be intimate and personal. The reader will be able to identify with the narrator and experience events vicariously. But first person is also limited because that narrator can’t look into the minds and feelings of the other characters in the story. The alternative, third person omniscient, has its own strengths and limitations, the first being that it is “all-seeing.” But also keeps the reader at arm’s length. You choose. But once started, continue in that same form. Consistency is everything.

You also need to decide where to begin, even though by its very nature, a memoir re-discovers the past. Will it be a person reminiscing about the world around (flashback) or will it be Granny or Aunt Martha telling what happened to her and her family during the dust storm in Oklahoma?
I used to tell my student that an assigned 500-word essay indicated not only length, but depth. That applies to novel writing as well. The topic must be narrow enough to provide a picture with convincing intensity and supporting detail. You can’t write a history of the Viet Nam War, or cover the Feminist movement from the 1920s to the present in one 365-page manuscript. Instead, it needs to be focused on one period or aspect that will enable the writer to maintain control.

Who is the intended audience? If your book is aimed at family members, the details will be a bit different than if you are hoping to sell it on a general market. If it is for children or young adults, the vocabulary will reflect that as will the kinds of details you choose, knowing that children are still learning fundamental facts that adults take for granted.

Once these decisions have been made, you are ready to begin.

Where and when you work should be consistent. If you’re a morning glory and hop out of bed rarin’ to go, it might be worthwhile to set the alarm an hour earlier and devote that time to writing. If you’re a night owl, try giving up the late night news to spend an hour writing. If you are immersed in the work world and know there will never be time during the week but can devote Saturday mornings to pursuing a project, do it then. Although less satisfactory than a daily stint of an hour or two, it shouldn’t make you feel inadequate. Take it one page at a time. Once started, you will discover how the re-telling of events becomes a self-validation and every word underscores a statement that says, “This is me. I am.”



CONSTRUCTING A PARAGRAPH

The paragraph is one of the building blocks of writing. It begins with a topic sentence made up of a subject and comment followed with supporting evidence or examples that prove or confirm it to be true. It is a guide for the reader and raises expectations of what is to follow. Yet, too often a person will either leave out the topic sentence or write it so vaguely that it misdirects the reader.

The following is an exercise I’ve done with students to show how important a topic sentence can be.

First, I distribute a sequence of sentences and ask students to construct a topic sentence that would be appropriate. There was no right or wrong answer. This is the sequence.

She stumbled into the darkened room, hearing the door slam behind her. Flinging herself into the chair, she buried her face in her hands. Nothing before had prepared her for this. When would it end? Would she ever be the same?

After a collaboration in groups, my students might come up with the following topic sentences:

1. The kidnappers removed her mask and shoved her forward.

2. It was cruel for Johnny to break their engagement over the phone, and all she could think of was running upstairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom.

3. She walked off the stage accompanied by thunderous applause, her debut at Carnegie Hall having left her totally shaken.

Each topic sentence could legitimately be supported by the examples given. Yet each paragraph that resulted would have an entirely different meaning.

After realizing this, my students might leave out the topic sentences from time to time, but were always willing to correct it after the first reading.

posted by bethstaas at 8:37 AM