Monthly Archives: March 2017

From Memories to Memoirs, Part 3 — Remembering Vividly

This is the third in a series on moving from memories to memoirs. Click here to read Memories to Memoirs, Part 2.

In part two, we used map drawing to trigger memories about place and time in our lives. In this article I present another technique to release sensory details from the subconscious and bring amorphous memories into sharper focus before writing a scene of the event. I taught a condensed version of this technique in my workshop, “A Legacy of Story,” at the Story Circle Network conference in Austin TX this last weekend, and I call it “Remembering Vividly” because that is what it helps us do.

Before you begin, to help you understand the importance of recovering memories of sensory details, select a piece you’ve written recently. Print it out and highlight every reference to a sensory detail. Which senses are included? Which sense is dominant?

If you’re like most writers the dominant sense is visual. That’s because most of us write “by sight.” That is, we include what we see and, sometimes, what we hear. Rarely what we smell, taste, or feel (as in the sense of touch). If your writing tends to fall within this “mostly sight” category, you may fail to engage your readers.  If you want to write vivid memories, then you must learn to remember vividly — not just see, but smell, taste, feel, and hear those memories — as well as expand your sensory vocabulary.

Remembering vividly is best accomplished in a light meditative state, and the practice of remembering takes only from 5 to 15 minutes. Writing the scene will take another 15-30 minutes depending upon the level of detail you include. If you’re on a tight time budget (and who isn’t?), I recommend allowing yourself a minimum 20 minutes to complete this process.

Here’s how it works (read the following directions all the way through before beginning):

Remembering Vividly

  1. Choose a memory to work with — either from the piece you selected or a different memory. For best results, the memory should be a significant moment in your life.
  2. Find a quiet, low-lit place where you can relax and not be disturbed. Sit in a comfortable chair or find an alternative comfortable position, close your eyes, and take long, deep breath. With each exhale, release tension in a part of your body, beginning with your toes and feet and ankles and moving all the way up your body until you feel the tension in your scalp and brows relax. Continue to breathe regularly for a few moments.

    To shorten the time, take five deep breaths, releasing tension from your entire body with each exhale. Then continue to the next step.
  3. Keeping your eyes closed, focus inward on your memory as if it were occurring in the present moment. Where are you? What’s around you? Who is with you? What is the quality of light? Pay attention to all the details: colors and textures, sounds, odors (if you can’t detect odors, think about what odors or scents might be present, given your environment), and physical sensations. If there is food, what does it taste like? What is its texture in your mouth?
  4. Now broaden your perception by turning around in your imagination — slowly, in a full circle. Again, pay attention to all the sensory details.
  5. Stay in your expanded memory until you feel satisfied you have remembered as much as possible, take a few more deep breaths, and gently bring your conscious mind partway back into the room in which you are sitting. Stay in a semi-dream or meditative state.
  6. Feeling the memory about you, write a list of all the words and phrases that describe it: colors, textures, sounds, scents, tastes, physical sensations. Don’t analyze or begin to write about emotions — stay strictly focused on the senses.
  7. When you have completed your list, bring yourself fully into the present moment.

Write Your Scene
Now write (or rewrite) a scene of the moment as remembered, including as many of the words from your list as possible. Slow down, making sure to record every little detail, and give yourself permission to “go overboard” with your description. Writing the scene in present tense will help you stay focused on the actions and concrete details of your memory.

Finally, take a few minutes to write in your journal about this process and what emotions, discoveries, or revelations came to you as you remembered or wrote. Later, you may decide to include some of these reflections in your narrative. For now, I suggest keeping them separate.

As always, I look forward to your comments and questions. Did you try this meditative method for recovering sense-based memory? If so, what happened? Are there other techniques that have worked equally well for you?


Photo Credit: AlicePopkorn via Compfight cc
Reprinted by permission from Amber Starfire

I Never Gave Up My Dream

I never gave up on my dream. That is the key. All it took was the persistence to never give up.

Early on in my life I thought of myself as a journalist and creative writer, but after college I settled for something more practical–technical writing and editing in the aerospace industry. And while I was even able to convince myself that I would never be able to achieve my dream, it kept gnawing on me.

While I worked my day job as a technical writer for over twenty-eight years and in a few other jobs as a real estate salesperson, programmer, and fundraiser for non-profits, I took creative detours. I learned to draw and paint, I learned to sew, I made needlepoint pillows, I quilted and knit. And, I co-authored a non-fiction book, Blue Collar Women: Trailblazing Women Take on Men-Only Jobs–where the writing was just a little less technical than my work in aerospace. I did anything to keep my creative juices flowing, until I could stand it no longer. I needed to reconnect with my passion to write.

It finally took a tragedy in my life to help me realize my dream.

When my son was diagnosed bipolar and our family was going through the emotional upheaval his illness created in all our lives, I started to journal. Writing about my son’s illness and later about his suicide death helped me put my pain on the page–the only place I could show my true feelings. Keeping my fingers moving either across the page on or the computer keyboard became my calming and healing balm.

I also took writing workshops. At first I felt insecure about my creative writing abilities because they had lain dormant for so long. That changed when I took a workshop called, “Writing about Our Lives” at Esalen in Big Sur, California in the late 1990s. I wrote about my misgivings about ever being able to make the transition technical writer to creative writer: “My writing is so factual, so plain, so devoid of descriptors, feelings, and imagination.” And that was okay. When a private instructor in Los Angeles taught me to “write like you talk,” I knew I was on my way.

Once I got into the writing groove I never stopped. I had a memoir published culled from my early journal entries and poems, Leaving the Hall Light On: A Mother’s Memoir about Living with Her Son’s Bipolar Disorder and Surviving His Suicide. Even finding a publisher took perseverance. Sixty-eight rejection letters later I found the perfect small press to publish my book.

And now, I still write something every day. I journal and write poetry regularly. I write for my own blog, and I am well on my way to completing my first novel. Instead of worrying about my lack of creative abilities, I took the power within me to accomplish my dream. My son’s death gave me that strength and power.


For more from Madeline Sharples, visit her blog.