Organically Speaking: Writing that Makes a Difference

Many of us writers suffer from the problem of the sagging middle. Physically, some of us put on a little holiday weight and are dreading the imminent snackfest-cum-beerfest of Super Bowl Sunday. But what I’m talking about for novelists is the place around page 100 of your novel when your characters begin to seem stilted and the words coming from your fingertips seem lackluster and trite. For short story writers, it’s the story that won’t seem to come together thematically, that lacks “oomph.” The sagging middle.

My answer to this problem is one of general avoidance. I put the manuscript away, start another story, head to the gym, or spend an hour searching for useless stuff on eBay. However, before I start my avoidance, I now send my work off to a trusted colleague and editor for review. A little while later, she sends it back with comments—lots and lots of comments. I nurse my wounds for a day or so (because let’s be honest, any truthful and incisive critique of our work hurts at the beginning), let her comments sink in, and come to the same conclusion almost every time: I need to dig deeper.

Most of my writing is intensely personal, and my characters are usually amalgams of people I have encountered in my life. Like Flaubert, I am often all-too-present in the tortured protagonists that populate my literary fiction. But for me, digging deep within my own psyche is the best way for me to come up with writing that is honest and that speaks the truth of the human experience.

In my search for that nugget of truth that says “yes” in my gut and breathes new life into my characters’ motivations, I must go to those dark places in my life. I have to examine the stuff that scares the crap out of me, things that break my heart, things that kindle a rage in me no one should ever see. Our society tells us to moderate those feelings, and as law-abiding citizens we should. But as writers, we must put aside the fear of delving inside ourselves and look, as Robert Olen Butler says, “without flinching.”

Let go of the desire to control your characters. Let them out of their boxes. Even if they don’t follow your tidy outline, they’ll reveal a greater richness if you allow them to move freely throughout your imaginary landscape. Cull and trim later, after you’ve found your nugget of truth.

One of my former career ambitions was to be a singer. And now, after my first bout of laryngitis, my singing voice still hasn’t returned. My usually pleasant shower singing and impromptu ipod karaoke sessions have turned into what sound like death matches between baby seals. All this squawking and yelping is driving me crazy.

Normally, I would be petrified that I’ve somehow permanently damaged my vocal cords. But singing isn’t my life anymore, and I’m not worried. Maybe this illness is exactly what I needed to break those final emotional ties to a life that isn’t mine anymore. This, of course, does NOT mean that I don’t share the same morbid fascination with American Idol that the rest of the country seems to enjoy. It’s fun watching people audition. I wait for what I call “The Chill Factor.”

You know—the goosebumps you get when you hear a voice with a certain quality to it that moves your soul and makes you tingly all over. I think the idea that an extraordinary person can rise out of the masses of obscurity to embrace his or her destiny, to be a part of something bigger than oneself, taps into a deep-seated human desire we all share. It’s the desire to be significant, to rise above our station, to become more than what we are: to experience a moment of greatness.

Goosebumps signal the presence of greatness. It happens when I watch an athlete perform like poetry in motion. It happens when I read about extraordinary acts of valor on the battlefield. It happens when I see a stroke patient come into my therapist’s office and walk out on her own power. It happens when I see the simple kindness of a man opening the door for an elderly woman at the post office.

Greatness is around us all the time. We just have to open our eyes to it.

Let the world and the people around you move you today. You’ll get a little chill when you sense the presence of greatness.