Caroline Allen's Blog - Posts Tagged "novel"
As Authors, Books are Bigger Than We Are
I've been a book coach for two decades. I've worked with expats on novels, lawyers on self-help books, and acupuncturists on memoir, and I've written three novels myself. People often ask, "What is the biggest issue new writers face when writing books?" There are many, like:
Writers need to learn to let go of perfectionism to write the rough draft (rough means rough, people).
They must commit to the book, and not try to write it "on the side".
We together have to address their low self esteem, their belief that their story isn't important enough. This kills many a very good book idea.
All of these, though, fit into a larger issue: the book itself is an entity with a mind of its own. We need to respect "the book" and what it wants, and stop trying to control it.
"Submitting" to a power greater than us (yes, it's a very spiritual concept) can be difficult for many writers, especially in Western culture.
There are two metaphors that always come to mind when I'm trying to explain this to clients -- a child, and old-growth forest.
A book is like your child. You can try to control how she develops, what she wears, what she says, and what she wants to grow up to be, or you can stand back and watch to see the way the child wants to grow and nurture that. One is a healthy approach, and the other is full of a helluva lot of frustration (and lack of success). If you're stuck in your book, or you can't get started, sit with it. Ask the book what IT wants. Nurture the ideas, and truths that are demanding to come into form. (I believe "god" is pure creativity that has an urge to be born into physical reality. It is my deepest spiritual belief.) Often, if you can align with what your book wants to be, the manuscript will write itself.
A book is like an old-growth forest. I've spent a lot of time hiking the ancient forests in the Pacific Northwest, down to the Redwoods in California. You know that feeling when you walk into nature, and it's so much bigger than you are? You're overwhelmed and humbled. You know that despite your ego's belief to the contrary, you are NOT in control of everything.
Your book is bigger than you are. If it isn't, you're not doing it right. It is ancient. It is epic. It is legend. Move out of the way, and let it be bigger than you are.
Can you see how approaching writing your book from this sacred, humble place could take care of all the issues you might have as a new writer? You don't need to be perfect in writing the book, because the very act of meeting this larger-than-life project requires humility, requires you get that you're not perfect -- ever. You may have low self esteem, but your book doesn't. Let it lead you. Finally, this is a deeply sacred undertaking, this bringing truth and authenticity into the world. How could you not commit fully to it? It's the most important thing you'll ever do in your life.
Writers need to learn to let go of perfectionism to write the rough draft (rough means rough, people).
They must commit to the book, and not try to write it "on the side".
We together have to address their low self esteem, their belief that their story isn't important enough. This kills many a very good book idea.
All of these, though, fit into a larger issue: the book itself is an entity with a mind of its own. We need to respect "the book" and what it wants, and stop trying to control it.
"Submitting" to a power greater than us (yes, it's a very spiritual concept) can be difficult for many writers, especially in Western culture.
There are two metaphors that always come to mind when I'm trying to explain this to clients -- a child, and old-growth forest.
A book is like your child. You can try to control how she develops, what she wears, what she says, and what she wants to grow up to be, or you can stand back and watch to see the way the child wants to grow and nurture that. One is a healthy approach, and the other is full of a helluva lot of frustration (and lack of success). If you're stuck in your book, or you can't get started, sit with it. Ask the book what IT wants. Nurture the ideas, and truths that are demanding to come into form. (I believe "god" is pure creativity that has an urge to be born into physical reality. It is my deepest spiritual belief.) Often, if you can align with what your book wants to be, the manuscript will write itself.
A book is like an old-growth forest. I've spent a lot of time hiking the ancient forests in the Pacific Northwest, down to the Redwoods in California. You know that feeling when you walk into nature, and it's so much bigger than you are? You're overwhelmed and humbled. You know that despite your ego's belief to the contrary, you are NOT in control of everything.
Your book is bigger than you are. If it isn't, you're not doing it right. It is ancient. It is epic. It is legend. Move out of the way, and let it be bigger than you are.
Can you see how approaching writing your book from this sacred, humble place could take care of all the issues you might have as a new writer? You don't need to be perfect in writing the book, because the very act of meeting this larger-than-life project requires humility, requires you get that you're not perfect -- ever. You may have low self esteem, but your book doesn't. Let it lead you. Finally, this is a deeply sacred undertaking, this bringing truth and authenticity into the world. How could you not commit fully to it? It's the most important thing you'll ever do in your life.
Writing the Story of your Ancestors
When you write memoir, you're not just telling your story, you're relaying the tales of the seven generations before you. When you're healing with memoir, you're not just mending yourself, you're restoring your ancestors (yes, even those who have passed).
It's an tremendous, sacred, sometimes overwhelming task.
Semi-autobiographical fiction also invokes the stories of our predecessors. I know this happened to me in the writing of my novel, Earth. Oh how it drew up the specters of my Missouri kinfolk.
Often you're the very first person ever to chronicle this multi-generational journey -- you're giving the women before you a voice. You're invoking their thwarted hopes and dreams. Their traumas. Their love. Their regrets.
What a beautiful weighty purpose.
I've worked with dozens of memoir writers, and have found this in my own writing -- emotions can become overwhelming during the writing process. The beauty and the poetry are there, too, but the grief can weigh heavily on a writer's shoulders.
Here are five tips for handling telling your story, and the story of your ancestors.
1. Go slowly. Really slowly. Like a snail's pace. Write just one story. Sit for a few days with the emotions. We feel our mother's repressed emotions when we're growing up. We feel her mother's and her mother's mother's. Finally these stories are getting aired, chronicled, acknowledged. You're not just dealing with your emotions -- you have ancestral emotions embedded in your DNA.
2. Don't worry if you can't verify all of the stories you've been told about your predecessors. Tell the ones you know. That's all you can do. Verify where you can. But don't shut the project down simply because you don't have written proof. It's your job as the family chronicler to tell the stories for posterity. Don't forget to write the happy tales too! Don't forget the joy.
3. Circle the wagons. Let friends and loved ones know what you're doing. Call in your healers, therapists, your self-care practices, like yoga, meditation, journaling -- I wouldn't recommend writing a memoir without a great deal of self-care. You may experience body pain. Your back goes out. Hip pain. Stomach problems. These are common. Take great care. Keep a process journal, and write out the emotions that come up.
4. Boundary your writing sessions. Open and close your writing session with a ritual, light a candle, acknowledge that you're diving into the soul of the work, and when the session is finished, blow out the candle, release the writing. Even when you do this, sometimes the pain of your people can bleed into your every day life. Keep practicing. Over time, the boundaries solidify.
5. Create an altar and invoke spiritual help. There is so much help just waiting for you to open the door. Put photos of your ancestors onto the altar. Objects they love. Light a candle. Invoke ease. Invoke help. We deserve all the assistance we can get as the chroniclers of our family lineage.
Do not underestimate the task you've agreed to undertake this lifetime. Treat it and yourself gently. Take great care. Accept help. This is a karmic, epic heroine's journey. And you've been called.
It's an tremendous, sacred, sometimes overwhelming task.
Semi-autobiographical fiction also invokes the stories of our predecessors. I know this happened to me in the writing of my novel, Earth. Oh how it drew up the specters of my Missouri kinfolk.
Often you're the very first person ever to chronicle this multi-generational journey -- you're giving the women before you a voice. You're invoking their thwarted hopes and dreams. Their traumas. Their love. Their regrets.
What a beautiful weighty purpose.
I've worked with dozens of memoir writers, and have found this in my own writing -- emotions can become overwhelming during the writing process. The beauty and the poetry are there, too, but the grief can weigh heavily on a writer's shoulders.
Here are five tips for handling telling your story, and the story of your ancestors.
1. Go slowly. Really slowly. Like a snail's pace. Write just one story. Sit for a few days with the emotions. We feel our mother's repressed emotions when we're growing up. We feel her mother's and her mother's mother's. Finally these stories are getting aired, chronicled, acknowledged. You're not just dealing with your emotions -- you have ancestral emotions embedded in your DNA.
2. Don't worry if you can't verify all of the stories you've been told about your predecessors. Tell the ones you know. That's all you can do. Verify where you can. But don't shut the project down simply because you don't have written proof. It's your job as the family chronicler to tell the stories for posterity. Don't forget to write the happy tales too! Don't forget the joy.
3. Circle the wagons. Let friends and loved ones know what you're doing. Call in your healers, therapists, your self-care practices, like yoga, meditation, journaling -- I wouldn't recommend writing a memoir without a great deal of self-care. You may experience body pain. Your back goes out. Hip pain. Stomach problems. These are common. Take great care. Keep a process journal, and write out the emotions that come up.
4. Boundary your writing sessions. Open and close your writing session with a ritual, light a candle, acknowledge that you're diving into the soul of the work, and when the session is finished, blow out the candle, release the writing. Even when you do this, sometimes the pain of your people can bleed into your every day life. Keep practicing. Over time, the boundaries solidify.
5. Create an altar and invoke spiritual help. There is so much help just waiting for you to open the door. Put photos of your ancestors onto the altar. Objects they love. Light a candle. Invoke ease. Invoke help. We deserve all the assistance we can get as the chroniclers of our family lineage.
Do not underestimate the task you've agreed to undertake this lifetime. Treat it and yourself gently. Take great care. Accept help. This is a karmic, epic heroine's journey. And you've been called.
