I posted the basic concept of this article a few years ago. In revisiting it, I found it at least as true now as it was then, if not more so. You may have observed something similar.
Life gets in the way of writing. Frequently.
Interruptions. Intrusions. Disrupted plans. Upheaval. Kids. Grandkids. Aging parents. Work. School. The news. Global events. Medical appointments or treatments. Volunteer responsibilities. Ordinary and relentless home maintenance…
Memories, good and bad. Failures and victories. Challenges met. Opportunities lost. Times of plenty and times of want.
Life gets in the way.
And life is what we write about.
Both statements are true. Consider how your portfolio of writing and your research files are growing because of the very things that sometimes frustrate your writing plans.
An afternoon I’d planned to devote to hunker-down writing turned into a short road trip with my husband. By the time we returned home, I’d collected two pages of legal pad notes, a dozen photographs, insights about a quirky character who’d had me stumped, and scenes already developing in my head. I’d had to push away from my desk in order to gather the raw materials for constructing the story.
If you’ve been writing for more than a few months, you’ve probably already discovered that your sentences are filled with scent and taste memories, with a flash of recollection from decades ago, with a depth of color you noticed in your walk yesterday. That’s how we write. We walk through life observing, listening, asking questions, collecting, filling our pockets with experiences and sensations and impressions.
What is it about life that informs our writing?
Childhood.
School experiences.
Work history and relationships in the workplace.
Home environment.
Family.
Friends.
Play.
Hobbies.
Travel.
Challenges.
Victories.
Books we’ve read.
Movies we’ve seen.
Dreams.
Loves won and lost.
Adventures.
Misadventures.
And, yes, interrupted schedules.
We recently had houseguests–two young people–for a month while they searched for a different apartment. It might have seemed like a disruption, but the conversations we shared while they lived here are priceless and will no doubt inform devotions or stories or a nonfiction proposal one day soon. Because the truth is…
Life is what we write about. And sometimes we have to live it to write about it authentically.
The next time your writing intentions are interrupted by life, grab your notebook and a pen. Gather all the tidbits of sight, sound, taste, texture, emotion, color, and fragrances interwoven in the interruption. The information may not be needed for the book or article you’re working on right now. But it won’t be wasted.
What life experiences did you not realize at the time would influence what or how you write?
The Churn
Great blog post. Writer interruptions are the norm for me. Lately it’s more about discovery. Why do I want to write; think I can write or should I write? Platform stumbled me as I work through a beta course “Obscure No More” with Thomas Umstattd Jr. How do I present me on the web?
What gifts have I accumulated the last 45 years that I can meaningfully share to encourage others. What has my own life experiences taught me. If I can’t grasp who I am how can I possibly offer something to others?
I have conversations daily with the Father. Often it’s about people he puts on my heart to pray or reach out to. He loves and convicts me as well of my shortcomings.
I still haven’t heard him say “give up” on writing and I’m leaning on those stories he put in my heart originally. And listening to His voice.
Sorry if I’m rambling. Thanks for the encouragement Cynthia!
Not rambling. Processing, Daphne! Too few of us take time for that!
Hi Cynthia!
This is a great reminder for me, to live in and around each moment, to squeeze the juices of each God-given experience. Sometimes it requires distance from whatever is happening to me, but the key is to color it with my pen.
One life experience took place 23 years before I ever wrote anything. And when I began my author career in 2012, with a play I wrote and directed (which is now a novel-in-progress), I couldn’t bring myself to write anything about that experience in 1989. It was too painful . . . my only sister committed suicide at the age of 32.
It wasn’t until last year that I could put pen to paper on that one. But, after 31 years, God gave me a perspective that took all that time to develop. I was able to write a blog post called “Just Show Up”; and she became the root of the main character in my other novel-in-progress, “No Tomorrows”.
It’s true . . . God calls us to waste nothing of what He allows us to experience . . . the good times and the struggles.
Thank you for writing this post and that reminder.
Grateful it could be beneficial for you, Deb! What a hard story!
When I wondered why the cancer
on the edge, here, of infinity,
God said, “There’s your answer,
this is now your ministry,
to tell of vistas that you see
across the Great Divide,
that dying’s not a mystery
from which one needs to hide,
but rather it’s the bringing
of a special grace;
if you will, a homecoming
to a warm familiar place
where loves and dreams you once thought lost
live on, for I have borne their cost.”
Lovely, Andrew.
Beautiful, Andrew. May the Lord give you peace, comfort, and love
Thank you for some great illustrations!
As you said, so many daily occurrences and memories of the past go into our writing. A fond memory which found its way into my writing was discovering the plant bittersweet on a walk with my husband. Symbolic of life. Bitter. Sweet. Even the bitter can turn sweet with time.
May your day be sweet.
Thanks so much, Virginia!
Such great advice, Cynthia! Living at a Bible camp, we have a lot of interruptions. If the well doesn’t break it is the generator going haywire and leaving us powerless or maybe a tree falling across the road and blocking cars in or perhaps old camp counselors who were driving over the pass, remembered we were tucked back here in the forest, and stopped by just to say hi … in the middle of the night, ha! That’s when they were driving after all. But seriously, if I can remember to absorb and remember all the interruptions as adventures, then I will be wealthier in the end.
So very true.
Dear Cynthia, thank you for reminding us that life “interruptions” are shaping us for good purposes.
My unplanned grandson is the loveliest interruption and blessing on my writing life.
Yes, we need to “live it before we can write about it.”
Blessings,
Wendy Mac 🦋
P.S. I’m loving your new novel. It reads like it’s real.
Thanks, Wendy. You’re a blessing.
I had fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome for about 15 years. It got so bad that my doctor urged me to resign from what I thought was God’s work through me. One Saturday, I decided to resign. God healed me that Sunday, confirmed a miracle by my doctor. We agreed on the medications to cut, and 5 months later, I climbed halfway up the Great Wall of China (only halfway because the bus was waiting). I enrolled in a Christian social media class and several months later launched a blog devoted to walking in God’s promises-all while working in that God-appointed position. Life in the way … God IS the way!
One word: WOW!
Illnesses in our family and a situation with my parents that broke my heart only give God an opportunity to work all things together for good, to take what could have destroyed us and use it instead to make and shape my writing for His glory. Nothing wasted.
Yes, nothing wasted. It’s either growing us or growing others through what we write.
God bless you for seeing God at work in your life and choosing to allow Him to work all things in your life for good.
I was at the end of drafting my manuscript, and there was one scene left that had bedeviled me for months. I had a germ of an idea. I knew something terrible had to happen to my hero and his buddies. It really had to test who my hero thought he was. The consequences would be devastating. But despite all my research and many awful drafts, I could NOT come up with a truly plausible scenario in which all this would occur. What happened? We went on a road trip to Maine, and during the long ride back to Illinois, I finally had time to flip through one last resource. And over many miles of boredom, my mind quieted to the point where I saw it – an entirely plausible scenario that I rapidly scribbled down. Once I got home, I couldn’t wait to check in with my military consultant, and he confirmed that yes, this scenario would work. And the words flowed. And it was devastating to my hero. All I had to do – quite literally – was remove myself from the pressure of it. And I found what I needed.
That is such a great testimonial, Janice!