Apr 142016
 

Bumper sticker covered car

Do you have something to say about yourself? Image by RHoch (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

How do you tell people who you are? How would you give them a bumper sticker synopsis of yourself? (Of course, you could ask why you’d want to do that as well. As Rob Walker argues, “…bumper stickers are about declaration, not dialogue.” But let’s put that aside and indulge in the exercise. Consider it a brainstorming activity.)

What Would your Bumper Sticker say?

If you could tell the world who you are in just a few words, what would you say? If you were forced to have a bumper sticker—even if you’re anti-bumper sticker like me– what would you put on it?

Are you such an open book that you’d have something on your bumper sticker that reveals who you really are? Or would it reveal a one-dimensional view of you?

Who or What matters to you

For years my sister has displayed two—not one—“I have a terrific kid” stickers on the back of her mini-van. She only has one kid. She claims her daughter added the second one for emphasis. In her daughter’s defense, she was little back then and who would expect that their mom would be driving the same minivan when she went to high school as when the sheriff’s department was giving out terrific kid stickers to 7 year-olds? Happily, my sister finally gave up her 200,000 mile +, 3 transmissions, re-welded-drivers-seat, and Takata airbag minivan a couple of months ago. She claims she’s on the lookout for the same sticker for the new car. She’ll probably find one.

Who are what matters to you the most? Why is it important to yell that from the rooftops?

What you’re comfortable with sharing

Some of us are more comfortable with sharing than others. Many people are at ease with a public persona, but still have a strong sense of privacy when it comes to their personal life. Many women my age, for instance, are a lot more comfortable sharing their “mom” status than anything else about themselves, even using pictures of their kids as their social media profile picture.

Would your bumper sticker synopsis of yourself be something that takes a stand? Or would it be something less likely to solicit an opposing viewpoint? This is my choice. I’d take the University of Michigan’s “I bleed Maize and Blue” and change it to “My Wallet Bleeds Maize and Blue.” I might even add an asterisk noting that it bleeds for in-state tuition. (We’re not rich, so don’t let that stop you from increasing my household income by buying my book.)

Who you’re not:

When would you like to have a name tag stating who or what you’re not?

When we had children at the same elementary school, people used to confuse me with my friend Kristin. In fact, it happened so often we still refer to each other as “Sis.”

When I was heading up the school science fair, Kristin wore a name tag that read “I’m not Laura Hedgecock.” (Truth be told, I made it for her. Kristin wasn’t looking forward to answering all the earnest little questioners and their parents with “I’m sorry, I’m not Laura Hedgecock.”)

For instance, what about politics? Does that ever make you want to have a name tag or bumper sticker that would distinguish you from the rest of your party?

Your Turn:

This makes a great writing prompt. Not just what you’d do, but why you’d choose to display that part of yourself. Why (or if) the decision would be hard. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Mar 022016
 

Form connections through stories is like hand holdingWriting coaches can help us with everything from developing a story arc to using better grammar. But, as storytellers, that’s not always what we crave. Great writing is, well, great. But family storytellers don’t just want to write better; we want to form connections through stories of the past. We want to connect with our readers, our family, and our family history.

How to Form Connections through Stories of the Past

This isn’t just another writing hoop to jump through. It’s not hard to form connections through stories of the past. It’s more of a question of writing with passion—and letting a little more of yourself shine through your writing. Continue reading »

Nov 162015
 
candle flame is like writing in the face of tragedy

Candles are not the only expression of grief; writing in the face of tragedy adds your story to others’.

Friday the thirteenth, November 2015 is another date etched into humanity’s collective consciousness. I find myself loath to knit the yarns of horror and heartbreak from Paris and Beirut into just another how-to, just another Monday morning post.

But I also know part of processing an event of such magnitude comes by way of telling the stories, and hearing the stories told. Perhaps that’s why we find ourselves unable to turn away from news coverage after a tragedy. Our eyes are glued to the metaphoric train wreck. Without the repeated images, our consciousness refuses to accept the unthinkable—the unacceptable. Without the repeated telling of the story, denial overwhelms us.

Writing in the Face of Tragedy

Whether or not we’re a direct victim of a tragedy, we’re often deeply affected in the aftermath. For many of us, reaching for pen and paper is a natural response. Perhaps that’s why so many people post their sympathy and solidarity with victims of social media.

It’s strange. We have an urge to reach out with words, particularly in those times when words fail us.

These moments of hearing the news and processing events become large tick-marks in the timeline of our lives. Looking back, we’ll know by heart where we were and what we were doing at the precise time of that mark. From it, stories unfurl.

When tragedy is personal, those tick-marks indicate the point at which our timeline is no longer a straight line. They become a geometric point indicating the origin of a curve or angle. An unexpected bend in the life of a family or society. Not so much the beginning of a road less traveled, rather a case of the road no longer visible on the horizon.

Whether a personal tragedy that doesn’t garner much press or a huge societal event, we have an inherent need to tell our part of the story. Succumb to that urge. Tell it. Grief, shock, horror, empathy, and sympathy need expression. Whether or not you choose to share what you write, writing in the face of tragedy can help you process your feelings and your response. (See also Write about Memories: It’s Therapeutic! ) In her post Healing through Writing, Stephanie Frogge MTS quotes a survivor describing the power of words on paper, saying writing “helped me to catalog and classify the pain; not that it took the pain away, but it was my way of wrestling it to the ground.”

As you wrestle with your pain, you connect with others who have similar struggles. Your story might not be significantly different from theirs. However, it’s the story’s significance to you that sets the bar. Our parallel stories connect with the same feelings others have felt in the face of such dark moments.

Tragedy isn’t an individual event. It’s collective. It’s an opportunity to reach out and connect. Writing during the aftermath or in the face of tragedy allows you to add your personal threads to the tapestry of how we coped.

Nov 052015
 
NaNoWriMo to write your stories participant Logo

Need to stop procrastination or to jump start your creativity? Use NaNoWriMo to write your stories.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then you haven’t heard of, much less embraced, National Novel Writing Month, otherwise known as NaNoWriMo. (#NaNoWriMo on social media). It’s the extremely popular, “fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to creative writing.” Conceived as a way to motivate and enable writers to create a 50,000-word novel during the month of November, NaNoWriMo has grown to well over 300,000 participants.

In my opinion, too many people stumble over the “No.” Because fiction isn’t their thing, they think they can’t take advantage of the motivation, camaraderie, and writing tips that NaNoWriMo the ultimate procrastination breaker, offers. Of course, there’s a complementary WNFIN (Write NonFiction In November) which is run a little differently if you prefer to stick with other nonfiction writers.

Luckily, NaNoWriMo welcomes “rebels,” though the majority of participants are writing a novel. They even have formulated the Camp NaNoWriMo Guide to Rebelling. And, even though you might be in the minority, all momentum created by highly imaginative, productive novelists can be a powerful motivator. Continue reading »

Nov 022015
 
Lincoln Cathedral facade looking for bond with 20th great grandmother

Gazing up at the Lincoln Cathedral’s facade, I tried to imagine it as my 20th great grandmother would have seen it.

Visiting Lincoln (UK), I wanted an emotional bond with my 20th great grandmother. Foolish as it sounds, I wanted to get a feel for her life. I wanted to know her a little.

Unlike London, which has changed so much over the centuries, Lincoln felt like a place where my forbearers might materialize. As my son and I munched on sandwiches in Minster square, the echoes of centuries of footsteps were almost audible. I could imagine my 14th century relatives, walking through the gates and looking upon the Lincoln Cathedral’s already centuries-old beautiful façade.

A horse-drawn carriage pulled up, taking on a mother and son for a city tour. The boy was sporting a wooden shield and sword as well as an impish smile. I wondered how many times that scenario occurred in the 558 years between my 20th great grandmother’s death and my birth?

Can such basic human experiences roll the centuries away? Continue reading »

Oct 082015
 
bond with readers via heart on page

How to bond with readers starts by putting your heart on the page.

Dear Reader,

I want you to like me. I want to connect with you. I hope to move you with my words, and with the heart and soul I put behind them.

I’m going to tell you secrets. I’m going to show you the side of me that I’d prefer to keep in the shadows, or better yet, in the closet. You’re going to come to know my darkest moments, to understand my fears.

Am I really suggesting you write like that? Yeah, sort of. Perhaps not in these words. Perhaps not even in second person. However, I am advocating putting your heart, pride, and maybe even your dignity on the line. Continue reading »

Jul 022015
 
Hometown context - a graphic of houses along a river

Adding hometown context can help your stories come to life

Your hometown comes to represent much more than the place you grew up. It’s your version of your state and country.

When we write about family members, ancestors, or ourselves, it’s important to give readers a glimpse of that hometown context. It helps explain worldview, values, and traditions. It helps them understand the personalities involved in our stories.

For instance, my hometown still colors my perception and understanding of events, even though I’ve now lived away from South Carolina as long as I lived there. It’s part of me. Though I’ve lived in the mid-west for over twenty years, I still consider myself a southerner. Continue reading »

Jun 232015
 
Train track represents get back on track

Read how to get back on track if you’ve gotten side-tracked from your writing or storytelling project.

Read how to get back on track if you’ve allowed yourself to get sidetracked

Procrastination and distraction are two of my best talents. In fact, I’ve been exercising them quite a bit lately! Which makes it seem like a great time to write about how to get back on track. Continue reading »

Jun 182015
 
crest share surname history

A crest isn’t the only way to share surname history. Share stories too!

Aside from the “cock” part and the inherent playground emotional trauma that comes with bearing it, the Hedgecock name has a lot to be proud of.

Since I only adopted that name after my marriage, I confess to letting a giggle of two escape at some of the Hedgecock name jokes. “Bush-chicken,” for instance. My husband and sons fail to see the humor. Continue reading »

Jun 042015
 
Foot in mouth

Big Foot in mouth (again).

Have you ever said something and as soon as it left your lips, you would have given your eye-tooth (I don’t actually know which one that is) to have your words back again? Failing that, you’d like to dissolve into the woodwork and never be seen again?

I have. On more than one occasion.

We’ve all had moments when we’ve had to try to bandage our dignity as we extract our foot from our mouths. Share them!  I’ll go first.  (You’re next, though. Misery loves company.)  Continue reading »