Each Sunday, I’ll address a topic or challenge we face as writers, as storytellers, and those who hone our craft and share our experiences with the world. This week’s topic is from the A Forest of Stories facebook page, and it is a topic I’m sure we’ll return to again and again, as it is a constantly evolving and expanding issue.
Sharon asks:
Could you touch on how to write about situations honestly without hurting anyone’s feelings?
Wow. This isn’t an easy subject. There are so many challenges we face as non-fiction writers {and those who write other genres and bring in personal events/experiences as moments in the work}, and this might be a core one.
Putting on my mentor hat for a moment, I will say only this:
What other people feel is their responsibility. As individuals, we cannot make anyone feel a certain way. Each of us is responsible for our emotions and actions. *removes hat*
That said, when we write stories of our lives that involve others, how do we tell those stories {especially the hard stories, the painful stories, the ones “better left unsaid”} in a way that reflects our truth, and the Truth of the situation, without injuring others in the story?
It’s important to first look at truth, and Truth. Did you see the difference there?
“Truth” is the Universal wisdom, the greater lesson learned through an experience. When I write essays, my goal is to share a Universal Truth that I have learned through a moment in my personal life. In contrast, “truth” is my personal truth, the things I individually learn {about myself and my experiences} in a given situation. This may not be a Universal Truth, and it might not apply to anyone but myself. It is still incredibly important, though, and must be honored and recognized.
How about an example, to perhaps more clearly illustrate what I mean? Here’s one, from an essay I wrote in college:
I hate that women are seen as objects, regardless of how they wish to be seen, and that we as women can’t get beyond seeing ourselves as objects. We are bred, raised from the beginning in a society that devalues us, trains us to be sexual beings, disconnecting our minds from our bodies, our sex from our reproduction. It is impossible to maintain a healthy connection between body and soul when we are continually fragmented and sold for parts to a market of drooling men.
In this fragment, I touch on a Truth: in patriarchal, sexist societies, women cannot expect to maintain a positive, healthy connection to self when they are consistently fragmented and devalued. Years of feminist research and psychological studies and honest conversations has shown this to be true for millions of women, lending itself to be a Truth.
To contrast, here is a fragment from a different essay, written in the same time period:
I grabbed for the sheet, clawing and tearing to get it off the mattress as though it were on fire. The edges tucked beneath the far corners wouldn’t come undone, and I crawled to them with astonishing speed and freed them, finally having the sheet in a pile at the center of my bed.
The whole thing only took a matter of seconds, yet I was sweating profusely from the task. I was holding a fire in my arms, and I couldn’t put it out. So I threw it to the floor and jumped on it, stomping out all traces of the life lived on those one-hundred-eighty thread count sheets.
There is a subtle truth in this piece, that the sheets were on fire, and I was holding them in my arms. The reason this works is simple: while the sheets may not have literally been on fire, I believed I was holding a fire in my arms, and needed to put it out immediately. This is my truth: that those sheets were blazing with pain.
Now that we’ve talked a little about the difference between Truth and truth, we can negotiate how identifying the type of truth that exists in your story determines how best to tell the story in a way that limits your exposure to the anger, hurt, fear, and frustration of others involved in the story.
There are a few simple ways to shield yourself from the anger and hurt feelings of your friends and family members who are characters in your writing:
1. Don’t tell the story that includes them, or wait until they are dead.
2. Tell stories that might include them, but leave out all details and references to those individuals.
3. Write only fiction, and turn the details of a story into something so different that only you know it is about the specific event that inspired it.
But let’s be honest: No one wants to write like that. So what can we do instead?
First off: respect those who are part of your life. Want to tell the story of someone who wronged you emotionally, but have to sit next to them at work each day? Or recounting a painful childhood memory in your book, but not sure what your parents will say/do when it’s published?
The most important thing to do is be clear. Write a letter, have a phone conversation, or invite for tea the person or people you are worried will become upset/angered over your writing. Letting people know that you are going to be writing a story that includes them can also open the door to healing and communication between you and the parties involved.
Second: do not censor yourself and your experiences. When you go through painful, harrowing, or angry experiences — moments that later appear in your writing — you cannot hold those experiences locked inside. You have the choice to publish the things that you write. Don’t let the people who hurt you in the past continue to have a hold on your present. Writing out these stories brings you to a place where you can move forward with the emotions, the conversations, the truths that surround your life.
Long story short:
Write the stories.
When individuals are upset by your stories, start conversations about feelings, experiences, and truths.
Seek the universal Truth in your experiences.
Never stop speaking from your core.
******************
Want more resources for telling your stories in truth and Truth? Check out Living in the Mystery, a workbook for moving into the moments and memories of your experience and translating them into personal narrative.
{ 1 trackback }