Finding Voice
After completing “The Jim and Dan Stories,” my writing didn’t abruptly stop, but the book had its own rhythm and timing and there came a point when the story was told. I continued to take notes and some stories came like aftershocks, too late to be included in the book. Soon, I put “The Jim and Dan Stories” aside and moved onto other things. The war in Iraq was gearing up at the time, and I had a lot to say about that, and so I let myself be consumed with writing political commentaries. I wrote a couple of small poems and went to my writer’s workshop, where I mostly gave feedback on other people’s writing.
“The Jim and Dan Stories” was published a year later using local resources. A few months after that when I was in my hometown of Hull, Massachusetts, I was interviewed by Susan, the editor of the Hull Times newspaper, about the book. I remember looking out from her large picture window onto the bay. It was a bright sunny day and a sailboat was going by. She was asking me some typical questions and taking down notes in a small notepad. Towards the end of the interview, she posed a question that caught me off guard. “What’s next?” she asked pointedly and put down her pen.
Writing a book is a bit like having a baby. There’s a point of conception, a gestation period, followed by hard labor and lots of aftercare. After you’ve had a baby, or have written a book, you feel pretty accomplished (having followed through with it) but you also don’t want to think about another one, at least not right away.
“I can’t imagine another story as compelling as what happened to my brothers and how it played out,” I eventually answered. Maybe I would put a book of poetry together (which I did), I suggested.
Back at home in Virginia, I wrote an update for my webpage about the trip. I began taking notes about my experiences following the book’s publication and the feedback I was getting. Even so, I felt uninspired, less alive than I did while I was writing the book, and as though I was a writer laid-off from my job. At that time, my muse was a lingering presence that manifested as a sense of weighty tension.
Three weeks after I returned home from Hull, the tension finally broke when Susan emailed me my first look at the newly published interview. In it she wrote, “The Jim and Dan Stories reads like a writer’s diary, a keenly observed, anecdotal account of small-town life nearly a half-century ago in Hull, and today in Floyd, Virginia …”
Susan’s descriptive naming of my style of writing was like getting permission to do more of it. Her words to me in the week that followed, as we struck up an e-mail conversation, were an encouraging validation as well. She said:
I don’t think you need tragedy to find an audience for your work. Yours is an authentic voice and, whatever the subject matter, if you market the piece correctly, it will find an audience.
A downpour of writing soon ensued.
October 8th, 2006 9:27 pm
Whenever I need validation that my writer’s voice is strong enough to build a future for my family, I come to your blog and read your words of inspiration.
Thanks, again, for confirming that our voices can carry us far. I owe Michele big time for pointing me in your direction.
October 8th, 2006 9:52 pm
You have a voice that I would follow anywhere. Your spirit shines through it.
October 8th, 2006 9:52 pm
I managed 5 books in 5 years…and then it was like a wall went up. I’ve been struggling with the same story for a year and a half now, but the word well went dry somewhere along the way.
Not that I’m not writing…but what I’m writing sucks mightily 🙂 Hopefully something will jar a brain cell or two loose and the sweeter stuff will begin to flow again.
Here via Michele’s today 🙂
October 8th, 2006 10:00 pm
It’s amazing what the right word at the right time can do for us.
October 8th, 2006 10:29 pm
So, we ask again, what’s next?
October 8th, 2006 11:30 pm
How wonderful it is that you didn’t stop at the first book Col.
I hope you know that your writing is what inspired me to do a blog (I thank you for that)which eventually became the same venue where you so fluently offer your thoughts. I thank you for that too.
October 9th, 2006 4:24 am
I love what she said to you Colleen. Isn’t wonderful when someone says a sentence or two that just opens the floodgates to your creative spirit? It’s such a positive affirmation of ones talent and ability, whatever the vehicle…
October 9th, 2006 6:12 am
Sounds like your meeting with Susan was in the cards, destiny, fate, just what you needed, the right place at the right time. I’m glad she was there to give you the little push and the big validation. Your writing is so real, authentic, so glad I found a ‘real writer’ to read.
October 9th, 2006 6:57 am
Thanks for the link to your shoe post. In the National Geographic article link I had provided there were two quotes which tried to describe women’s dress shoes. One designer stated that she wanted her shoes to appear menacing, because anyone wearing them would be in pain .. and wanted to be sure to inflict such on others. The other designer slid herself into a pair of her own models to demonstrate the anatomical changes they elicited. Based on that demonstration, it’s no wonder so many women frequent chiropractors! Ugh, the things some people do to attract attention.
Thanks for coming by my blog; I enjoyed reading your stories here.
October 9th, 2006 10:17 am
I am so glad you have not stopped. I look forward to my daily dose of your words. And, I miss it when I cannot come by….
October 9th, 2006 6:12 pm
You do have a distinctive voice. And even when it doesn’t always sound completely sure of itself, it always sounds strong and true.
October 9th, 2006 6:59 pm
“A Continuation”…could be a nice title.:) I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch lately. I haven’t been able to catch my breath lately! Any open weekends coming up? We missed Sept!LOL xoxox
October 9th, 2006 8:54 pm
I always look forward to coming here. Before I lost my blog-aversary post today I had noted how I couldn’t stand not knowing what was going on here at loose leaf and always hurried to catch back up.
I am not a writer or poet but even I take inspiration in your writings. You have a gift and I am glad you continue to use it. So often I can apply your notes or passages to my own life.
Keep it coming!
October 9th, 2006 11:05 pm
I can’t imagine you ever being at a loss for something to write about! At least not for long! You write from way down deep in your heart and soul and so you are very connected to that which you write. That’s a gift you’ve probably always had and will have for the rest of your life.
Write on!
(Congrats on your writing career thus far! I’d be thrilled if I were you.)
October 12th, 2006 4:31 am
Marvelous validation. The observation about authenticity makes me think of a quote by Vivian Gornick, in Jane Taylor McDonnell’s, _Living to Tell the Tale: A Guide to Writing Memoir_: “Truth in a memoir is achieved not through a recital of actual events; it is achieved when the reader comes to believe that the writer is working hard to engage with the experience at hand. What happened to the memoirist is not what matters; it matters only what the memoirist _makes_ of what happened.”