In grade school I learned the path to writing involves: 1. brainstorming 2. outline 3. writing, in that order. It worked every time I did a research paper. I believed this was the only path for writing. I was never taught any different and I believed that for something to be good, I had to be taught the 'right' way to do it.
Well into my adult years the only type of writing I enjoyed doing was research papers until I found blogging. It was such a short structure that I couldn't and didn't need to follow the path I had been taught. I was free to explore my topic for that day's post and write what I wanted, how I wanted. If people liked it, great! If they didn't, I would try again the next day. Writing a memoir is a whole other beast. The learned path makes more sense to write it, but over the past year and a half I have discovered that when it comes to telling stories, that path doesn't work for me. I tried tweaking it in as many ways I could find. Each tweak led me to more frustration - and more frustration. I was certain the problem wasn't the way I was writing, but that I wasn't a good writer after all. If it hadn't been for my book coach, I likely would have believed that and shelved my memoir for another 10 years - or more. But, she believes in me. She believes in my skills as a writer. So I persisted with her encouragement. Over the course of discovering what doesn't work for me, I discovered what does. Turns out, it's the same way I do pretty much all things in my life. I jump head first into a project, learning by way of breaking. Even as a child, I used to grab Dad's tools - much to his dismay - and figure out how they worked rather than allowing him to teach me how they worked along with the safety measures needed to use them. I mean, he could teach me all he wanted but I didn't grasp the concepts until I started making the mistakes that allowed me to understand the tool. "Why were the safety measures important?" "What would happen if I used it in a way that it wasn't meant for?" "It makes logical sense that I should be able to work with it like this..." "Oh crap, I didn't know that would happen." Let me tell you, things didn't get fixed. They got more broken. So, I continued to allow him and others to do things for me or teach me the 'right way'. Many years later, I found myself staring down this memoir and I realized that I am the one that needs to fix it and no one can teach me the 'right' way to do that - trust me, I've asked. While I finally got to explore my own way of learning something, I was fucking terrified of doing it 'wrong'. The first step before I could begin my own - let's just say unique - path of fixing it, there needed to be something to break. That first year of writing was the excruciating process of creating the substance. Then, I got to break that substance. And, let me tell you, I did a damn good job of that. I'm not sure that even 90% of that first draft made it into the second one. With guidance; not instruction, I am now in the process of fixing it. I'm in the process of asking the questions that show me where it needs to be broken more. "Why did I even share that?" "Does anyone care about that part?" "Does that fit my theme?" "Does my theme need to change?" "What is the point I'm making here?" I'm building this book the same way I wanted to build things as a kid. By jumping in head first while making all the mistakes. In the end it may not be perfect, but it will be something I'll be proud to call all mine. Imperfections and all.
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AuthorMelinda Lee is a mom of two adolescent boys, a devout student of all things spiritual, a recovering perfectionist, and immensely fascinated with achieving the unachievable. Currently writing a memoir about hugging strangers. Archives
February 2023
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