Write into the Heart of Your Story (registration open)

A 2-week online course for writers at all levels

Updated 11/18/13: Registration for this session is now closed.

I'm giddy to share my newest online offering with you. I taught a condensed version of this class last weekend at the Soul Sisters Conference, and I'm delighted to offer the full version online.

Writing the stories of your life is about more than recording a series of events. It's about creating meaning and connection.

Whether you're writing blog posts, essays, a memoir, or in your journal, how do you write beyond what happened and into the heart of a story?

In this 2-week online course, we'll explore ways to write into the heart of your story using prompts, exercises, and techniques that you can use again and again.

What the Course Includes:

• Daily posts sent to your email inbox with that day's content
• A lovely mix of instruction and inspiration
• Writing prompts to discover your stories
• Exercises to explore your personal creative process
• Techniques to dive deeper into your story's meaning
• Resources to keep the momentum going
• An optional, private community space to connect with other participants (housed on Facebook)

Registration: $27.00

{Update 11/18/13: Registration is now closed for this session. The next session is scheduled for February 2014. Please join my mailing list to stay in the loop.} 

Questions? Answers!

What do I need to take the course?

You'll need an email address and an Internet connection. (You might like to have a journal or notebook that you use for the course, or you might prefer to write on your computer or typewriter.)

Do I have to have a Facebook account to participate?

Nope! The private community group on Facebook is totally optional. The group will be private, so only course participants will be able to see the contents and posts in the group.

I'm not a writer. Is this course for me?

Yes! If the idea of writing stories from your life appeals to you, this course is for you. We'll use a variety of prompts and exercises that are accessible and no-stress, whatever your writing experience.

I am a writer. Is this course for me?

Yes! Even if you've been writing for awhile, the practice of digging deeper into your stories will be useful. I'll be sharing techniques that significantly improved my own writing when I learned them after years of being a writer.

Discover & Embrace Your Creative Process

I was in Portland, Oregon, over the weekend for the Soul Sisters Conference. I led two sessions,  one on the power of storytelling and another on writing into the heart of your stories. One of the big things that came up this weekend was finding a writing process that works for you. It's incredibly important to play with your own creative process, to find what works and what doesn't, to mix it up from time to time -- and to remember that no process is right or wrong.

Here's a (slightly modified) post from my blog archive about discovering some important pieces of my creative process.

I sit down at the keyboard. I'm following a snippet of a scene, a hazy idea whispering in maddening mumbles at the back of my brain. I have an impression, an inkling, a vague image that I need to uncover and discover.

I sit down at the keyboard and start a conversation with the words. I slide down rabbit holes, jump over fences, take a bold leap into the bright, high sky.

This is writing.

At least, it is for me.

A lot of the time I have no clear idea what I'm trying to write about until I'm elbow deep in a piece. For me, writing is a process of discovery. I write to know what I think. I write to discover how I feel. I write to create a cohesive whole from jumbled sections of thought floating around inside my mind.

As a result of this approach, my writing process includes a lot of editing and rewriting. I forge ahead, I double back. I tinker. I twiddle. I give and I take. This is writing. (This may also be why I fully believe that editing is a creative act.)

For a long time, I thought my natural writing process meant I wasn't a very good writer. In fact, I worried that it meant I wasn't a "real writer" at all.

I'd thought that "real writers" had an easy time writing. I'd thought that they came to the page pregnant with stories and ready to burst at the seams. I'd thought that this is how it worked for real writers every single time.

Boy howdy, was I wrong. There are times when we writers are ripe with words. Those are the joyful times. But there are other times when we writers have to dig and scratch in the dirt, like a dog or a chicken, looking for words like a bone or an insect, unearthing the story. (There are times when metaphors get fuddled.)

What sweet relief when I realized that my writing process is valid and true. When I embrace this idea of writing as a process of discovery, I can stop struggling so mightily with both with my identity as a writer and with the writing itself. When I realize that the story emerges during the process of writing, I allow myself to relax and do what comes naturally.

One of the worst things we do to ourselves, both as artists and as humans, is to compare ourselves to other people. A lot of times this shows up in comparisons of how good or bad we think our work or life is compared to those around us. But we also tend to judge our processes against other people's processes. We think there's a bona fide norm to which we should aspire.

I thought that I had to master a particular writing process in order to consider myself a good or real writer. My mistake was believing in this elusive idea of the norm. 

I make that mistake in other areas, too.

I often make dinner after 10:00 at night because my husband's job forces him to keep odd hours. I'm a natural night owl who can set her own hours, so usually it's not a problem. But instead of reveling in the freedom to make this strange schedule work for us, I used to worry that we were weird and deviant, as though eating dinner at 11:00 p.m. somehow made me less of a mature, responsible adult and contributing member of society. But now I'm beginning to see that this is simply our norm for this time in our life. When I worked a traditional nine-to-five job, my husband and I rarely ate dinner together. Now that I can set my own schedule, I can choose to have dinner with my partner long after some of my friends have gone to bed. And then I sleep for hours and hours after they've gotten up the next day. This doesn't make me lazy. I'm just on a different program, one that works for me.

So I eat dinner during the nightly news, sleep till noon, and pick my way through words blindfolded. Maybe you like to eat dinner during the 5:00 news, get up at dawn, and write whole stories in your head before you ever touch a keyboard or pen. We are each of us our own version of normal. As long as we stay true to that, we'll all be alright.

Some Stories for the Weekend

Right this minute I'm sitting on an airplane, 38,001 feet above the ground, somewhere over Montana, near Flathead and Lolo National Forests. WiFi! On a plane! So many modern marvels at once! (Also, how much do I love-love that there is a place called Lolo?)

I'm headed to Portland, Oregon, this weekend for the Soul Sisters Conference. I'm leading two sessions this weekend, one on the power of storytelling and another on writing into the heart of your stories. Since these are topics that I've written about in one way or another many times, I thought I'd share some posts from the archives for those of you who couldn't make it to Soul Sisters.

First up, some stories. I'll be opening my storytelling session with a new story, one I haven't recorded before. But in the spirit of in-person storytelling, I'm reposting several stories that I have recorded.

"The Saddest Dog Story in the World" (audio)

(To listen to the story, click on the arrow in the media player below, or click on "The Saddest Dog Story in the World" underneath the media player to open the file in a separate window.)

"My One Thing" (video)

(Can't see the video above? Watch it on Vimeo.)

Are you in the Pacific Northwest? Join me for two storytelling workshops next weekend

Hello, lovely blog readers. This post is specifically for those of you in the Pacific Northwest -- or those of you who have the means to get there next weekend!

I'll be teaching at the Soul Sisters Conference just outside of Portland (Oregon) next weekend (Oct. 25-27). There are still a few spots open, but registration closes tomorrow (Friday, Oct. 18). Would you like to join us? Register here.

I'm thrilled to be leading two sessions at this gathering: 

• Surprise! Stories of Unexpected Choices: It's a Story Carnival! Stories connect us, illuminate us, and help us to make sense of the world around (and within) us. Watch the power of stories-in-action and hear some true stories told live on stage. Then learn how to find, catch, and shape your own stories.
• Write Into the Heart of Your Story: Writing the stories of your life is about more than recording a series of events; it's about creating meaning and connection. Whether you’'re writing blog posts, essays, a memoir, or in your journal, how do you write beyond what happened and into the heart of a story? In this workshop we'll build on the personal stories that you started to uncover during the Story Carnival. We'll play with prompts and techniques (that you can use again and again) to help you tap into your writing voice and write into the heart of your story.

The conference includes so many soulful, fun, and creative workshops from some amazing women.  

• Rachel Cole – The Well Fed Woman: Finding and Feasting on Your Truest Hunger
• Vivienne McMaster – Invite Yourself Into the Story of your Life Through Self Portraiture
• Molly Mahar – Personifying your Inner Guide: How to Trust Yourself
• Kelly Rae Roberts – Wisdom Jam (an open discussion about creativity, motherhood, and business)
• Rachelle Mee-Chapman – Soulcare for Worldcare:Sustainable Care for Yourself and Others
• Bridget Pilloud – Chakra Love
• Liz Lamoreux – Poem it Out: A New Kind of Selfcare

The weekend will also include a ton of fun activities and onsite event options. There should be something to fit your style, whether you feel like dancing and hula-hooping or quietly sipping tea and getting a spa treatment.

Soul Sisters Conference
McMenamins Edgefield
(just outside of Portland, OR)
October 25-27, 2013

Full event details are available here, and here's the registration link. (If you do register, please add my name to the "Referred by?" box. Thanks!)

Has this event has been calling your name? Consider this one more invitation to join us!

Got a stash of frequent flyer miles burning a hole in your pocket and wanderlust fluttering in your heart? Fly to PDX next weekend! (The gathering is at McMenamins Edgefield, which is gorgeous and scrumptious!)

Live in Washington or Oregon and need a fun weekend getaway with kind, creative women? Step right up, lady!

I'm looking forward to gathering with some of my favorite people in my favorite corner of the country. I'd love it if you joined us!

Aesthetics, Rhythm, & Literary Preference

Why do some books go down easy, like a perfectly mixed cocktail, the kind that is so good you don't even realize you're imbibing until you're pleasantly tipsy?

Why do we like the poets and authors we like? Why do we dislike others, sometimes even those who are lauded as "great"? Why do some books resonate with me and not with you? How can you love the taste of some writing while it's all I can do to choke down more than a few paragraphs?

Is it the subject matter? The way the author's world view affirms or challenges our own? Our mood on any given day when we're reading? The answer is probably yes, all of the above, at least to some extent. But I've been thinking about how there might be something even more foundational at work in our reading preferences. I think it's the same thing that determines whether or not we like a piece of visual art, a movie, or even another person.

Surely these preferences come down to aesthetics: "a set of principles underlying and guiding the work of a particular artist or artistic movement."

But what creates a particular aesthetic? I think it has something to do with rhythm. 

This is easiest to apply to music, of course. Some people like a strong, fast beat. Others like a slow groove. But it's not just the beat, is it? Both Beyoncé and Mumford & Sons have fast-tempo songs, but the feel of each are very different. There's the sound and texture of the music to consider.

I think the same is true with prose and poetry. Words (individually or in groups) have unique beats, rhythms, and textures. When I write, I need quiet so I can "hear" the words I want to use, as well as hear how they belong together on the page. Each phrase, sentence, or passage has its own unique flow. I know when it sounds right. And when it doesn't. 

But what sounds "right" to me may not sound right to you. My internal rhythm isn't exactly the same as anyone else's, but it may be more similar to some than to others. I think what often turns us off of a particular writer or piece of writing is a case of mismatched rhythms. When the texture, tone, or flow of what we're reading doesn't mesh with our internal soundscape, the result is discordant. It's unsettling, jarring, jangling. It feels ugly and cumbersome. It just doesn't speak to us. It lacks resonance.

I remind myself of this every time I receive a rejection letter from a literary magazine. I always look at my work to see if I can improve it, but I have essays that I know are good. They're polished and true to what I wanted to say, and -- according to myself and some others who've read them -- they're beautiful. But they get rejected. Why? Who knows? Maybe my submission wasn't a good fit for the next issue of a particular publication. Maybe that journal just accepted another piece about a similar topic. Or maybe the person reading my essay has a different internal rhythm.

As an editor and writing coach, I'm perhaps hyper-aware of this rhythm issue. I never want to impose my internal rhythm onto another writer's work. I want their voice to come through every sentence. I want to help them find the best way to write something in the literary rhythm that sings through them. When I first started working as an editor, I rewrote a lot of passages for my clients, showing them exactly how to "fix" things. It got to the point where I felt like I was ghostwriitng rather than editing. My approach now is different. Now I try to point out awkward or confusing passages and give the writer the tools to improve it themselves. I still provide some examples on how I might rework something, but I'd rather share information about writing techniques and encourage people to apply those to their own work, in their own style.

As a reader, I've picked up -- and then put down -- plenty of books that are well-known, well-loved, or have been recommneded to me by writers and readers that I respect. Sometimes the timing is just wrong. I tried to read Annie Dillard's essays several times over the course of several years before I finally liked her and eventually fell in love with her work. Did something shift in my own internal harmonics that gave me access to her writing rhythm? Then, after a few years of loving her work, I found myself cooling toward some of it. Had something shifted again?

Sometimes we meet a new person, and talking to them is easy. We say we're on the same page. Sometimes the conversation is stilted and awkward. We say we're on different wavelengths. I think the same is true of books.

I realize that my thoughts on this are a bit scattered. I feel like I'm working toward some sort of unifying theory about the internal rhytym of language that makes us the kind of writers and readers we are. Maybe it all comes down to what's commonly called writing voice. What would you call it?