Here’s what I learned from my conversation with Sandy Schnakenburg, author of The Housekeeper's Secret: When you’re writing about a tragic or shocking event, one way to create suspense is to tease that something bad is coming. In the book she had a terrible accident on her bike, and at the beginning of the chapter a character calls out and tells her to be careful riding to school. From there until the moment of the crash she slows down time by including the tiniest details and specifics surrounding the moment—what time she left, her route to school, who she was meeting, why she couldn’t be late, and that first period math was her favorite. She described the actual ride, the way she rode with no hands, and later how she stood up on the pedals. It took Sandy 14 years to write her book, and the structure changed from a book of essays, to a braided memoir, to a chronological, compressed timeline with a hook at the beginning pulled from the midpoint of the story. An editor helped her to remove 50,000 words and bring the reader more onto the page by removing her analysis of the scenes. Her editor said, “Leave it to the reader. Let them decide. Let them process what happened.”  Sandy wrote a synopsis and summary of her book before it was ever finished. She sent the synopsis to an agent and he picked her up—just like that! She attended the San Francisco Writers Conference, where she pitched her book all day long to writers, editors, and agents. It was there she met her editor and book publisher.  If you want to publish a book your story needs to have a universal theme. Once you have that and can really communicate that, then you need to figure out how to distribute it. Then you need a good publicist. (Sandy interviewed twenty-five publicists.)

Explore the art of storytelling with insights on crafting compelling first lines that spark curiosity. Delve into the importance of detailed descriptions, allowing readers to immerse themselves in the narrative. Discover the power of vulnerability in writing, encouraging authenticity to forge connections. Learn how to navigate the complexities of personal relationships through candid reflections. Finally, tackle the emotional challenges of memoir writing, embracing self-doubt while celebrating the journey of revisiting personal history.

Here’s what I learned from Still Life At Eighty by Abigail Thomas: Revealing the dark parts of yourself in writing makes those things less scary and less powerful.  Simple, clear, no-frill writing can be just as powerful and moving as fancy prose. Lean into your style, whatever it may be.  Sometimes writing can just be keeping a log of your feelings and experiences. It might not be something to publish now, but later, when you can look back at that time in your life and have rich details to include once you’ve had some separation from it.  If you don’t know what to write about, write about what you’re struggling with. Rhythm is important: Print out what you’ve written in a different font so it looks like somebody else wrote it and read it out loud. When your voice goes dead, there’s either something hiding behind that sentence or it’s just boring.  Memoir is not a place to get revenge or cast oneself as victim. Freelance Writing Direct podcast interview with Abigail Thomas

Here’s what I learned from My Salinger Year by Joanna Rakoff: How to write dialogue in a novelistic or cinematic way: Include details about the surrounding area. The weather, scenery, anything the characters interact with, other people in the room. This is especially useful at the start of the scene, and if/when the scene changes.  When you add context for the reader it should relate to the dialogue before it. It can also help establish the relationship of the characters. There are three people to consider in a two-person conversation: the two people in the scene and the reader. Dialogue can be inside-baseball between the two characters even it’s unclear to the reader, but interjections by the writer can clarify and invite the reader into what’s happening.  A scene should not end at the end of the conversation, but at a point when a character says something that transitions into the next scene.  And here’s the link to Joanna’s conversation with Estelle Erasmus on Freelance Writing Direct.

Sam is back to discuss more marital arguments, though he insists they rarely argue while Charlie insists they argue plenty.

Guests on the podcast discuss submitting personal essays to the New York Times 'Modern Love' column, exploring storytelling intricacies, self-effacement, and the emotional journey of deciding to submit an essay under their real name.

Here’s what I learned from three sobriety memoirs: The Night of the Gun by David Carr: Interview the people from your past. It doesn’t have to be formal or recorded. It could be as simple as a text message to see what they remember about the event.  This can accomplish three things:  It’s a way to add more details into your story.  It allows the person to feel like they’re a part of the process of writing it as opposed to feeling like it’s one-sided.  It makes you, the writer, more relatable and reliable because you’re giving different perspectives.  The Unexpected Joy Of Being Sober by Catherine Gray: Don’t break the fourth wall to manipulate the reader or try to get them on your side. Breaking the fourth wall should always be a statement, not a question.  Option: Use sarcasm or let them in on a secret.  We Are The Luckiest by Laura McKowen: Just tell the story and leave the reader out of it. 

Heres’s what I learned from Drinking: A Love Story by Caroline Knapp AND The Elements Of Eloquence by Mark Forsyth. Anaphora is when you start each phrase, sentence, or paragraph with the same word or words. But be careful: readers always remember the opening words but often forget the rest. So when using anaphora, be intentional about what you want to emphasize. Also, only using one word for the anaphora—as opposed to a phrase—is slightly less powerful but beautifully hypnotic.  Epistrophe is when you end each phrase, sentence, or paragraph with the same word. Diacope is when a word or phrase is repeated after a brief interruption. Parataxis is short, clear, matter-of-fact sentences, often subject-verb, without conjunctions (think Hemingway). Knapp was selective with parataxis, using it when she wrote about the moment she found out her father died and again at the moment her mother died. In both instances, it was a shocking, cringey admission because she was drunk both times. Pleonasm is the use of unneeded words, sometimes repeating the exact same word, other times saying the same thing in a slightly different way. This can annoy readers, but when utilized for intentional redundancy can be quite effective and powerful.

Exploring the experience of writing under a pseudonym for over four years, the podcast delves into audience growth, personal connections with readers, and the freedom of creative expression. The host shares insights on choosing a pseudonym, the internal struggle of sharing work with loved ones, and the identity dilemma between anonymity and authenticity. Additionally, the podcast discusses a structured writing process with a book coach and the importance of maintaining a routine for creative productivity.

Here’s what I learned from Life On Delay by John Hendrickson: On Structure: When you open with a big event, where something big is about to happen, it creates suspense. The opening is a pivotal moment. There was life before this moment, and then there’s life after.  Around ¾ of the way through the book he comes back to this moment and finishes the story.  The life-changing moment is only the beginning of the major changes to come for John (aka, the main character). The life changing moment, then, is a catalyst for change and growth.  On the relationships with his family, namely his brother Matt: Adjectives are manipulative when describing the people you’re close to. Showing is always more compelling than telling.  When writing about your past—especially your adolescence—the best way to evoke emotion out of the reader is to leave your feelings out of it, whether they were your feelings back then or your feelings now. The best way to introduce a main character in your story is through multiple stories about them. When introducing a character who you had or have a troubled relationship with, it’s important to write about them completely separate from you. So there should be stories that involve you AND stories that don’t involve you, so the reader can get a fuller sense of who this person is. Phrases I will never write in my own book: “I don’t blame them,” or “absolutely thrilled.”  Other Notes: When jumping around to past, present, and future, it’s important to find ways of anchoring the reader and orienting them by letting them know where we are on the timeline, in relation to big events that have already occurred in the story.  Freeze frame: when you’ve finally arrived at a big moment—in this book’s case, a hard conversation—one way to build suspense is to break up the dialogue by commenting on something else that’s happening at the same time. In this instance, John wrote about what was going on in his head simultaneously.   On Endings:  A powerful way to end is with a story. It doesn’t have to be fancy or clever. This was simple, abrupt, and beautiful.  Here’s the link to Michael Dean’s video about the David Foster Wallace essay:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wbjup1xuo8Q&t=1s