Indie Scriptorium will cover the theme of memoir over the next few months. As we investigate all memoir-related topics, we will explore family history, historical writing, autobiographies, and more.
But, how does an aspiring family historian or memoir writer begin their journey?
For me, it began with years of gathering information. I have discovered that listening is the key to family history research. I needed to listen to my older relatives and collect their stories. Then I was able to build a picture of what life was like for them in generations past.
These are the first steps in my family history journey.
Stay tuned for more family history and memoir ideas in future blogs.
“When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen.” ― Ernest Hemingway
Here’s a post from the past on feedback, or more accurately, “On-line Reviews”; a vital part of refining our work and making our stories the best they can be.
Those On-Line Reviews
I like to celebrate. As a child, when I received full-marks for a spelling test, Dad rewarded me with a Kitchener Bun from the Fish ‘n Chip shop/Bakery which in the good ol’ days of my childhood was situated opposite Glenelg Primary School. A few years ago, now, when I used to drive my son his course in Magill, my mum and I treated ourselves to lunch at the local hotel.
Every so often, I check my Amazon account. I wipe off the virtual cobwebs of neglect, and dig deep in the files of my mind, retrieving the password to enter. I expect nothing much to have changed.
I’ve been busy with my blog and the rewards, small, though they are, compared to the rest of blogging world, but the steady trickle of views, likes and comments, satisfies me. Over the years, the number of followers has steadily grown.
Once long ago, now, I made a daring move, and posted my short story, Boris’ Choice—not for the faint-hearted or while one eats breakfast…After the post, I checked for results on Amazon with my War Against Boris Series books.
And…there were. Yes!
Then, I checked the reviews. Now, I don’t know how other writers have fared with reviews, but for many months since my books were published, I had received no reviews. Yes, I asked my readers to do the deed and tick the star-boxes and comment, with no results. Yes, they’d say, and the weeks went by and nothing. Were they just being polite? I have no illusions, and the reality is that art and literature are subjective—what one person likes another won’t.
Anyway, back to checking the reviews…I looked again at one of the countries one of my books sold. The page appeared different. A yellow bar, and a comment. Genuine feedback. Not a great appraisal, but an appraisal all the same. I knew the person responsible for this first-ever comment for my book but was not surprised at their response. I did wonder at the time how my novella would work for them—not well—just as I imagined when they informed me, they’d bought the book on Kindle. As I said before, Boris and his antics are well…not for everyone.
That being said, and for fear my works may be misunderstood, the over-riding theme of my stories are the classic fight of good against evil. How evil, like Boris, can creep into our lives. And when for whatever reason, usually when we maintain and enhance our self, and to avoid discomfort, we allow evil to stay. This evil, however subtle, will drive us to isolated places in our lives, much like Boris does in The Hitch-hiker; places we never wanted to go. I want young adults and people young at heart, to make choices and use their energy for goodness and to fight evil, so they can live a full life and also be an agent for good in their community and the world.
A dramatic scene which reminds me that Australian history is ancient, often sacred and secrete. There are Aboriginal myths shared at this site, but their deeper meaning is hidden from new Australians. A caution that, as writers, acknowledging indigenous stories requires sensitivity and care.
But the landscape is awe-inspiring and we can create our own myths when we write.
As expressed by John Keats: (letter to J.H. Reynolds 1818)
“Almost any man may, like the spider, spin from his own inwards his own airy citadel.”
Summer holidays are over, and school has started again here in Australia. With it, memories of the way things were way back when I was at school, in the 1970’s. Those were the days…
Our Sensei, the Avenger
Timmy hunched over his desk, sobbing.
Luke laughed at him. Simmo slid back on his chair sneering. Bruce barked in the small skinny lad’s ear. I watched, guarding my books from being flung out of the window, again.
Those boys!
Our Sensei marched into the classroom. We stood.
His face turned crimson. He thumped the blackboard. ‘Da’me Yo! Bad! Very Bad!’
Sensei swooped on Bruce and Simmo. Grasping their shirt collars, one in each hand, he clonked their heads together, forcing them to look at Timmy.
‘Look what you have done! You made him cry! Bad! Very Bad! Dame Yo!’
Would you like to join in the 100-word challenge? If you have a story you’d like to share, drop us a line in the comment box. The one requirement: the story must be exactly 100-words.
This day, being Australia Day and the nearly 250 years of baggage that goes with it, I made an executive decision to re-blog my missive on the fine line writers literally “walk” when storytelling.
Feature Photo: An Australia Day tradition: the Barbeque (c) L.M. Kling 2015
The track was steep and bumpy. It shook his bike, made braking hard on the sharp corners. His eyes watered, his heart thundered. He felt like laughing but had to focus. He’s hadn’t felt this scared since he fell off his first two-wheeler.
Teeth clenched, bones shaken as the bike bucked and slid over rocks. It was impossible to brake, too fast, too hard. The ground tore past, blurred by speed. Cold wind whipped tears into his eyes. Hands curled around the handlebars as if they could be a lifeline. Focus, focus, focus. Blood thundered in ears, sweat sprang and got whipped away. Laughter bubbled and was swallowed. Fear evoked the four-year-old’s memory. Falling, pain, blood and Dad saying. “Get back on. You can do this.”
Above are two attempts at describing the same event. In the first I’ve used pronouns, he, his, he felt. This is me as the writer intruding, describing the action. I’ve also said he felt scared, telling not showing the fear. This is third person subjective.
In the second I’ve got rid of the pronouns, added more sensory information to illustrate fear, added internal dialogue and provided a detailed memory. It required more words but gives a deeper experience for the reader. This is third person subjective deep point of view. (Also known as 3rd person limited or 3rd person close)
Using Deep Point of View (Deep PoV) is a writing style that has become increasingly popular in the past two to three decades. It is tricky to understand, and I’ve found requires a lot of study and practice. The idea is that you tell your story from the perspective of the character, that the story emerges through their experience which includes what they see, hear, feel, taste and smell. Add some thoughts, opinions and memories and then remove the narrator’s voice, (he felt, he thought, she wondered, she saw.)
Changing your natural writing style is challenging work but I think adopting deep PoV can make the writing zing and allows the reader to engage more closely with the characters. But do I need to use deep PoV all the time and for all my characters?
I write Historical novels set in the Regency era. The writing style of authors such as Jane Austin, Charlotte Bronte and Charles Dickens use third person, but the narrator is always popping in with observations and opinions. I want my own novels to reflect the writing style of the era in which they are set but I also like to adopt the modern deeper point of view. It’s a challenge.
Having done some reading into this complex topic I have come to a set of rules that work for me as a writer. It’s a work in progress; I am learning new things all the time and making adjustments, but I thought it might help people if I share my guidelines.
Use deep PoV for major characters. Minor characters don’t need deep PoV, but it could be fun to give the baddie a deep PoV.
Deep PoV can be exhausting. Use it sparingly for pivotal moments in your plot.
Start each scene with deep PoV.
Use deep PoV mostly in the first third of your book. Less is required as the pacing/suspense increases and the readers are hooked into the characters.
Don’t head hop between characters. One deep PoV per chapter or scene.
Use the character’s thoughts, actions, memories, opinions in both internal and spoken dialogue. Emotions are better conveyed by actions and dialogue than described. (show don’t tell)
Use the five senses to give readers a clear picture of the scene from the characters perspective.
Use vivid language (find more interesting words in your thesaurus) and active voice. (I use a soft-ware editing program to highlight passive voice for removal)
These are my recommendations. They will not suit everyone, and they are a work in progress. My idea is that I write the first draft of my novel/short story and select the character who will be the PoV character for the scene/chapter but not focus on creating the deep PoV until I’ve done a structural edit. I will then do an editing sweep looking at strengthening the sensory input, opinions, thoughts, memories and actions in strategic scenes in the book.
Points of view is a complex topic. I found the following articles and books helpful.
I also used Richard Bradburn’s book Self-Editing for Self-Publishers, Reen Publishing 2020
I’m still finding my way with PoV. I don’t head hop as much, but I can’t say that I am deeply conscious of using deep PoV as I write my first draft, but it’s an effective and powerful tool for introducing new characters. For me it works for one or two characters in a novel and is valuable to use in highly emotive, pivotal scenes. I do enjoy giving my character’s opinions and internal dialogue as it brings the reader closer to the character.
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