I have been a fiction fan for a lot of years—basically, as long as I’ve been reading. But lately, the books I’m drawn to are more memoirs and what I’d call creative nonfiction. Nonfiction message in a creative, unexpected format. As I’ve read these books, I’ve been asking myself why I’m drawn to them. No, more than that… Why I’m drawn into them.
Lately I picked up another memoir, whose title shall remain nameless, and opened the cover, expecting the same rush of anticipation, the sense of being transported inside someone else’s life and mind and skin.
It didn’t happen.
Oh, I stuck with the book for about 35 pages, but life is just too short to stick with a book that doesn’t speak to you. So I closed the cover and tossed the book into my “At-least-I-can-give-it-to-charity-and-claim-a-deduction” bag. And I started to wonder. What made the difference? Why was I left cold by that book?
The answer was actually pretty simple: The author wasn’t sharing his (which I’m using here just to avoid the dreaded his/her or painfully incorrect thus utterly unusable their, but I’m not saying the author of this book was, in reality, a him-person) story. He was, in fact, reporting it.
From a distance.
I wasn’t engaged because the author wasn’t engaged. He wasn’t in the story. No, I don’t mean his name wasn’t in it. It was. But there was no sense of him, or of any of the people he mentioned, or of the place… He wasn’t close enough, so I didn’t care. He talked about people, but didn’t show them to me. He mentioned events, but there was no sense of how those events affected his heart or mind or soul. He just gave the information, as though that was sufficient and the reader would be transformed by it.
But having a strong message is only one part of the equation. Connecting with your readers is as much about HOW you share the message as anything else. In fact, I believe it’s the most important element of writing a book that will astonish, entertain, enlighten, and change readers. All writers, fiction or nonfiction, need to be storytellers. We need to get into the heart and grit and emotion of what we’re writing, sharing our stories in such a way that the reader sees, feels, smells it, hears, and tastes it.
“But my message is hard,” you say. “And those experiences that taught me about it were even harder. The things I saw, the things I did…I don’t want to go through them again.”
Well then, don’t write a book about them. Because if you’re not pouring yourself, heart and soul, into what you’re writing…if you’re not willing to, as they say, cut a vein and bleed on the page…if you’re afraid to dig into the dark places as well as savor the light…then friend, don’t write a book. Give a report. Share an account. Make a chart. Pin it, Tweet it, Instagram it. But don’t, for the love of Poughkeepsie, write a book. Because what’s the point if it’s not going to change you as well as your readers?
Years ago I wrote a novel based on the struggles my husband and I had experienced in our marriage. When I was ready to write, Don and I were in a good place. We’d been through years of counseling and were becoming friends as well as spouses. As I contemplated writing the novel, I admit I was afraid. God had brought us through so much. We’d had some terrible times. Dark times. Angry, spiteful, bitter times. It was only God’s work in our hearts that saved our marriage. And frankly, I didn’t want to go through all that again. What if it made me mad at Don again? What if it set us back? I took those fears to God, and He did two things. Reminded me that I really wanted to encourage people struggling in their marriages, to speak truth to them in the face of all the non-truth the world spouts. And then He gave me the idea to put together some picture frames with pictures I loved of Don. You know what? When I dug into the writing, it was hard. And yes, I felt a lot of those emotions again. But every time I did I looked at those pictures, and what I saw wasn’t the bad times, it was the miracle of redemption and restoration. And when I finished the book, I was more in love with Don than ever. That novel, The Breaking Point, debuted on the bestseller list. I’ve received letter after letter from men and women thanking me for being willing to write such an authentic story, letting them know they weren’t alone and that God could heal what seemed irrevocably broken.
So that’s my challenge for you, writers. Especially for you wonderful folks crafting nonfiction. Get closer. Dig deep. Open up. Let it pour out of you, splashing on the page in all it’s glorious messiness and reality. Feel as you write. Be invested. Be in your words.
Then let me know when your book is done. Because that’s a book I want to read.
It’s Not Who You Know
Hi Karen,
Your post is exactly what I needed today. Most of my day is working in a pharmacy and using the science side of my brain watching for drug interactions, drug allergies, and health conditions that might prevent a patient from taking a drug.
Transitioning from that environment to home where I get to write takes a little adjustment.
I’m glad for your reminder to pour out the emotions.
Thanks! I hope you have a great day!
Karen your article is just what I needed. I have a hard story and I’ve struggled with writing my memoir for the very reasons you mentioned. Drudging up the old emotions has been difficult however it is necessary if I want to engage those who would read my story. Thanks for the kick in the pants for the encouragement and how to keep my focus on where I am now. Thank you!
The Breaking Point is on my keeper shelf because it drew me in so thoroughly. Thank you for writing.
Agreed, Glenda! It was the first time someone said to me that marriage wasn’t about my “right” to a happily-ever-after–something our country needs to hear badly!
Karen, Good advice, and applicable to some non-fiction works as well. When I wrote The Tender Scar: Life After The Death Of A Spouse, my first several drafts weren’t getting anywhere. Then I realized that I was trying to make myself look “too good,” rather than letting sometimes painful honesty flow onto the pages. Once I began to replace perfection with vulnerability, the book took on meaning–not just for the tens of thousands who have read it since, but for me as well. I still tear up when I read some chapters.
Thanks for sharing.
Good stuff, Karen. Reminds of the difference between history teachers. Some teach history as dry lists of key dates and events. Other teachers can make breath life into past events and make them come alive, make us care about those people way back when. Definitely harder to breathe life and emotion into a story, but it’s oh so much more enjoyable to read such authors.
Blessings!
Terrific post, Karen. I appreciated The Breaking Point so much for all the reasons you shared.
When I think of current superb nonfiction, “Unbroken” comes to mind. One of the most gripping stories I’ve read in a long time.
What a great post, Karen. It’s difficult to bleed onto the page. But, if I want readers to connect with my stories, it’s essential. I think I’m still learning how to do this. 🙂 Thanks for your final exhortations. They are very helpful!
Excellent post! A powerful challenge.
Another thanks here, Karen. Ministry is what it is all about and the Holy Spirit can use well the pain we have suffered, if we let him.
I had a sweet Christian author who is now with the Lord say to me that if you are called to write – you are called to suffer. I never forgot it. As Christians we all suffer and what can we write better than the journey we have been on.
When taking a writing course as an adult I saw the shallowness in the young students writings- not because they were not wonderful writers but because they had not experienced life yet.
Karen –
Just what I needed to keep writing what I thought was a devotional – It’s now becoming a memoir with a twist. Thank you for the reminder to put my heart into it – I pray I do this every day. May God surprise you with something unexpected today. :0)
Superb, Karen. You’ve highlighted what it is that differentiates a book that changes lives from a book that merely informs– the powerful from the ho-hum.
The only reason I write is to share my faith, and I would have no faith without the valley’s He has carried me through. I catch myself holding back because I don’t want to reveal my sinful nature. Thanks for helping me realize how important it is to share our struggles.
I loved this post! Thank you, Karen. This is exactly what I’m striving to accomplish.
One of these days my memories will be in a story… I actually even thought of that recently with Evelyn’s death. Maybe now is the time to begin anew? We’ll see… I love you Karen!
Thanks, everyone. So glad the post resonated with you.
Blessings to you all today.
Karen
Karen,
Okay, I’m in. I’m writing my first book and I’m going to take your challenge and show raw emotion. I love reading books of authors who keep it real and allow much to be unresolved. I’m learning to back my academic mind out of the process and let the real me – inadequate, failing, hurtful – come through. Otherwise, why would we need a Redeemer?
Thank you for that reminder. I am writing a non-fiction story about a person I know and my interactions with that person. Her part is a raw emotion as it could possibly be, but your post helped me realize I need to put more of me in it. I think that is “just what the doctor ordered.”
I needed to hear this advice, Karen. Thanks. A challenge, but it’s the only way to write something worth reading.