yourpassions.tk

I'll be away from the blog for a couple of weeks on a Great Adventure. Keep writing, and stay tuned. Write on, Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal

“My life has been so ordinary, I don’t think anyone would be interested in reading about it.” I often hear variations of this comment when people learn that I teach life story writing. I’m always sad when I hear this thought, because I don’t consider any life ordinary or uninteresting. I do realize that some lives may look that way at first glance, but with just a little digging, they take on amazing depth and dimension. Whether you think your own life is dull and ordinary or not, you may benefit from some of the thoughts I share with these people. Document the ordinary. That which seems ordinary to you today may seem extraordinary and amazing to generations down the road. Just as I wonder how women a couple of centuries ago could keep their families fed without today’s ranges, refrigerators, plastic wrap and year-round produce supply, people a century from now may wonder how I managed without conveniences they will take for granted and I can’t imagine. Dig a little deeper. Legions ...

Few things are more detracting or confusing in a story than awkward word order. As an example I offer the following sentence from a book I recently read (out of respect for the author, it shall remain nameless): “Burr buttercups grew between the grasses like snares, and in prairie dogs’ abandoned holes black widows, the size of succulent grapes, reigned.” This sentence isn’t exactly unclear, but my eye stumbled as I read, and I had to go back over it a couple of times. My first pass had succulent grapes reigning. How much more smoothly it flows as “... black widows as large as succulent grapes reigned in prairie dogs’ abandoned holes.” Or, “... abandoned prairie dogs’ holes were now home to black widows spiders the size of succulent grapes.” We could probably find half a dozen more ways to tweak that sentence but most would leave the tone of the author’s voice. My primary emphasis here is on word order, not fine tuning wording. Let’s look at another example: “At best it would be well o...

Earlier this afternoon as I began to nod off with a book in my lap, my thoughts drifted to a friend and how sad she had sounded when she spoke of some problems involving her daughter. Suddenly, out of the blue, these words came to mind: "Telling a friend of our sadness is like putting a frame around it." How true! I thought. That's just what friends do. By listening to our concerns, they allow us to draw boundaries around the problem. Their responses set off certain elements in our thinking and create a frame of reference. As profound as that thought may be, it isn't worth writing a lifestory about. I mention it here because it is worth keeping, if not in a story. I have a file where I keep idea scraps like this. Sometime when I'm writing a story about something sad or angry, this analogy will be just the right way of putting things, so I'm stashing it in that file. If I never use it again, at least I won't forget it. I read through this file every now and...

Every now and then someone asks how to handle a story topic that isn’t currently “politically correct.” I include an example of such material in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing (to be released in July 2007 by Lighthouse Point Press). It’s about the time I ordered extra spicy food at a Chinese restaurant. I include the dialect of the immigrant Chinese owner in the story, introducing it at the top in the title, “Esstrah Spicy.” The original version of this story included words like “evil gleam” and “sinister grin.” I would have used these terms to describe a blue-eyed, blond-haired Swede in the same situation — in my mind, they had nothing to do with ethnicity. However, as I read the story with an eye toward publication, I realized those particular terms fed into wide-spread stereotypes from decades ago that had nothing to do with the story. Other words serve the purpose equally well, and I edited accordingly. I was aware a few people might be uncomfortable with the dialect, bu...

Some people are deterred from writing about their lives because they feel more comfortable with a paintbrush than a pencil. SARK* is the poster child for such people, showing how to combine a few words with compelling images that enhance the message. I refer you to books by SARK and her Planet SARK website for examples of another way to express yourself. Click on the image of her latest book (to be released in April) to explore the wonders of her way with words and art. Even those of us who are artistically challenged can benefit from SARK's succulent views on life. She breaks all the rules about typing and formatting in an extraordinary, unique, hand-written way. I’d never advise anyone to copy SARK's specific style, but I urgently suggest that you emulate her general approach. Her work spills directly from her heart and passion as it colorfully splashes onto the page. Unless you have the gift of drawing or painting, you’ll likely confine your efforts to colorful words, b...

My husband's Uncle Walter died several weeks ago, at the ripe old age of ninety-six after an exemplary life. Walter had a rich spirit. He was a masterful story teller, and it's a shame that his stories were never written down. Or so we thought. Earlier today I was looking through my computer files to find pictures of Walter for display at his upcoming Celebration Service. I found some wonderful old ones that will serve the purpose well. Besides those pictures, I found a folder of scanned images that I'd forgotten about. Several years ago Uncle Walter began writing about his early life in Ray, a mining town in the Territory of Arizona. He also wrote down some recollections of his father. He loaned the stories to me for scanning. The whole collection spans fewer than twenty pages, but each one is precious. Our family genealogist met him once, but barely knew him. She was ecstatic when she received the collection, because they contain some valuable genealogical information as...