Writing My Truth - Madison Blissett de Weger
Writers are artists. We can pull a story out of a blank page, much like how an artist sculpts ceramics from clay. This is what I learned at Shelley Davidow’s ‘Turning Your Life into Art’ workshop on the Sunshine Coast in September. I learned that this lump of clay is our first draft. We know it won’t resemble our final book, nor will it have the aesthetic that stimulates an intellectual or emotional response from its audience. But the clay will contain everything we need for us to continue to the next stage where we shape it to match our ideas and beliefs, find meaning in our lives to build upon its themes. We may delete or combine characters, smooth over the messy edges, but it’s still essentially our truth. A subjective truth that is glazed and presented for the world to see.
Shelley’s metaphor was the catalyst for how we began to view our memoir writing. The room was filled with aspiring writers including myself – an intern for Queensland Writers Centre – who wished to learn how to turn memories into narratives and depict our lives as a hero’s journey. But first, we had to realise that the story itself could be told in seven billion ways. We all responded to the same writing prompt, and as they were read aloud to the room, we realised no story, no voice was the same. Shelley explained that while our memoir begins in our hearts with a precipitating event, how we remember or perceive the event differs from person to person.
In writing my own memoir, I’ve found that I often emphasise too much on a linear, biological trajectory and need to rely on friends and family to fill in the blanks of my memory. They may remember vastly different to myself, especially when the memory was blurry or traumatic. But as Shelley pointed out, “Any truth is changeable. We don’t remember chronologically; memories are triggered, faulty and unreliable.” From the small lumps of clay, we can gather and mould them until they create a larger piece. A piece that is flexible and changeable as Shelley tells us, “the setting is wherever the emotional weight of the story lies.” We have to understand our truth may be unalike from our families’ version and learn how to balance their expectations with the importance of the story.
However, the reflective practice of memoir is easier said than done. It is challenging to write about real people whose story is yet to conclude. There is a moral dilemma that comes with memoir writing, and that is, the representation of our friends and family. A writer tells their stories, their perspective and vulnerabilities. We discussed in the workshop that there is an added pressure of how the reader interprets the characters and how one may make assumptions about their real-life counterparts. What if they lose agency over their representation? What if the relationship becomes strained? Shelley explained that writers need to make a disclaimer that certain characters and their narrative arcs are based off the writer’s subjective truth. It is a reimagining of how the events unfolded. Shelley affirms it is important that the writer feels comfortable in telling their truth as “the more personal you are with your writing, the more universal the writing becomes.” Being vulnerable in our writing opens up a chance to speak to an audience and depict a relatability. It is a lesson that I will be taking under great consideration when writing my own memoir as I know there will be moments of uncomfortable and vulnerable truth-telling.
Now more than ever, we feel compelled to find relatability, and writers are taking advantage of this. Writers are reclaiming their voice and narrative, while readers are gravitating towards true stories. We put our whole lives on social media, the big moments and small. There’s speculation about what’s driving the memoir trend – and I would argue that it’s our confessional culture. Readers are pulled towards emotionally rich stories, grounded in lived experience. And I for one, love reading the stories of people from diverse backgrounds or unique, interesting stories. From hearing the advice of Shelley Davidow, I feel I can continue writing about my subjective, vulnerable truth. I know how I see the world – all the messy edges and levelled bases – and now I can shape my clay to resemble my truth.
Madison Blissett de Weger - QUT Creative Writing Intern
Madison attended Shelley Davidow’s recent Sunshine Coast writing workshop Turning Your Life Into Art: Radical Memoir. See more events in our upcoming program at www.queenslandwriters.org.au/whats-on.