Superman syndrome

AKA ‘Big boys don’t cry’ or ‘Real men pull themselves up by their bootstraps’. Real men don’t make excuses for why they fail to keep their commitments, to themselves and others, but they are honest about dealing with the reasons that keep them from being Supermen.

I’ve never had a tooth pulled. Never, that is, until last Wednesday, when I surrendered my bottom-right Wisdom tooth, and the molar in front of it, to the dental student who relished in his God-like role above me.

Stumbled into the wall on the way out and figured that after a few hours, when the numbness wore off, I’d be able to knuckle down to work. I’d handled getting my teeth removed like a real man.

But the numbness masked pain – as much pain as had made me want to get the teeth removed. The following week became a blur of eating choc-hazelnut sandwiches at odd hours so the the painkillers weren’t digested on an empty stomach, and a semi-conscious fog as I slept in the four pain-free hours before the painkillers wore off. Work got pushed to one side and I couldn’t concentrate on what people were saying.

Today, I awaken from the painkiller blur into a different world. My brother broke his back in three places. Another family member verges on psychosis. Someone else in the family is trying to get me to give up on him – like everyone else.

The week I’ve had dealing with my pain has taught me how to handle its highs and lows. Now, still in pain, I’m called to reach out to help others in their pain.

What is the difference between excuses and reasons? Excuses are lies you tell yourself to get yourself off the hook. Reasons are the admission that after trying all the options you could in the time you had, you still didn’t succeed.

Right now, I may not meet all my work commitments. I may make mistakes in my personal relationships. But I’m not Superman. And I’m a better man for it.

My kingdom for a good editor

Sometimes I wonder whether what I write here really, really sucks. Other times I think it’s OK, and maybe, just maybe, I can do this writing thing. Often I forget that although I tap the keys alone, writing is never a solitary act (unless you’re blogging, but that’s another story, which Kevin Alexander covered in his column in the June Writer’s Digest). It’s a team effort; the most important person after the writer, the editor.

Today I had a personal essay (freshen up on your life writing defintions here) published on why I choose to be a fundamentalist Christian – despite my sexuality. You can read the article here. I hope it gets picked up by some print publications because it affects so many  people and my editor and I worked hard to polish the piece.

First draft scored a 10 out of 10 on the lameness meter. I thought it was OK, but my editor shuttled it back with the advice it failed to answer the big questions I’d posed. The straight journalism style – interviews and third person – had the impact of being whipped by a feather.

When redrafted, I had one of those this-may-be-moving-in-the-right-direction-but-maybe-not moments, and sent it unpolished to the editor so he could point the way.

He obliged, and I rewrote it almost from scratch for a third time. That’s the piece which you’ve read if you clicked earlier, or can read if you click here.

A good editor is a blessing to find. In a world where many see themselves as time-poor, the past few months with an editor committed to the craft rather than time management have helped me reawaken my old writing skills.

Due to changes within the company (acquisition of a local print publication), I won’t be working with him once I finish the series of articles he’s already commissioned. I only hope the editor I get to work with on my memoir is as skilled as this editor has been.

Managing writing demands

As a writing coach, one of the top concerns people bring to me is the lack of time to write. Although I’ve always been able to help people, it wasn’t until I started revising my memoir that I’ve come to appreciate how tough it can be to find the time for my most important work.

So these are my top tips to write the most in whatever time you can carve out for yourself:

• Banish the belief that you need big chunks of time to get anything worthwhile done. A few minutes here and there throughout the day will add up to the big chunks you’re after.
• Do something every day – bar one. Take at least one day off from your customary work each week. You’ll gain freshness and many of your writing dramas will solve themselves.
• Think through your day to foresee pockets of time you can use, and make sure you have your notepad, laptop, and any files you need. You can get a lot done in your commute. On public transport you can work in a notepad. In a car, dictate into a digital voice recorder.
• For speed’s sake, invest in dictation software. It takes a while to train it, but when it’s up to speed, your speed is up.

Another aspect needed is motivation, which comes from setting mini-milestones on a big project and achieving them. This, however, is another blog for another time.

Simplicity on the far side of complexity

Over the past couple months, I’ve read dozens of memoirs. Those that stand out do so for their own unique reasons. Those that fail, do so for similar reasons: they have the structural soundness of a house built on a sand. Filled with memories retold because they’re remembered, not because they have any dramatic function, the book ends up scattered and unfocused. But how can a writer decide what fits – and what needs to be cut?

Since July 1, I’ve been using Dramatica Pro to help answer that question with my memoir. While it’s software aimed at fiction writers, memoirists can find it helpful because creative nonfiction uses many of the techniques of fiction. Notably, it gets the writer to develop a narrative structure, and emphasize the aspects of characters in relation to their dramatic function.

This means that those fondly remembered but out of place anecdotes and characters get cut. Other areas that needed to be fleshed out are developed. Whole characters disappear because they serve no purpose. In short, it helps life make sense.

And what you’re left with is a clear guide to the story you plan to tell. When it comes to the revision – adding and deleting scenes and characters – this clarity allows a writer to move forward with speed and boldness. Readers may not notice the underlying structure, but they’ll enjoy reading a stronger story. One that’s foundations are built on rock.

P.S. So I can put more time into the memoir, and less time blogging about it, I plan to update my blog weekly until further notice.

Work intensifies

It’s 1.11am on Tuesday, July 1: Today I promised myself I’d stop reading creative non-fiction and sit down and start to work. I’ve also promised myself that I will deliver one chapter a week to people who have agreed to read this latest draft of my memoir.

Picked up some manilla folders I wanted for the editing, but now I’m set to go.

I think this is possibly the lamest entry I’ve rewritten, but I couldn’t get to sleep, it’s late, and I’m itching to get to work. Next time I promise to be more intelligent.