A Fiction Writer Faces Her Creative Nonfiction Fears
I primarily consider myself to be a fiction writer, but have dabbled in other forms over the years. I spent my teens and early twenties writing mostly poetry. My time spent writing and studying the craft of poetry greatly influenced my future fiction writing. Poetry taught me the importance of word choice, imagery and how to evoke emotions in readers. All of which enriched the depths of my storytelling. I spent my thirties writing a few novels and honing my narrative craft.
When you’re writing a novel, people have a lot of questions. The most frequently asked being, “Where do you get your ideas? Is your book based on your life?” Regardless of the book I was writing, my answer was always the same: “No, I write fiction for a reason. I like to make things up.” And it was true, not a single character or story I had ever written was based on a person or event from my life.
Then I turned forty and suddenly had a burning need to write about some of my personal experiences and a desire to share those stories with others. There were just two problems. One, I didn’t know anything about writing personal essays. Two, while I had never shied away from sharing my fiction or poetry with others, I was terrified even thinking of people reading my personal essays.
I began studying the art of personal narratives by reading craft books, dissecting the composition of published essays and taking classes on writing the personal essay. I learned and wrote so much, so quickly, yet my fear of sharing my essays did not wane. I shared my woes with a longtime writing mentor. She asked, “What are you so afraid of?”
It would have been easy to reply that I was afraid of sharing the intimate details of my life with strangers, but that wasn’t the problem. The truth was that I wasn’t afraid of people knowing my secrets or my traumas; I was afraid they wouldn’t care. As a reader, I have always loved a well written memoir or an emotionally raw personal essay, yet when faced with sharing my own, I had convinced myself it was self-indulgent to write about or think anyone would care to read about me. Who was I to deem myself special enough for that?
My mentor replied, “You’re a human being with amazing stories that the world deserves to know. Now, get over yourself and start writing. Start sharing.”
I’d love to say this was a movie moment, that all of my fears were instantly assuaged and I was suddenly confident sharing every essay I wrote, but that would be a fictional account of reality. Her words did push me to investigate my own long-held beliefs about writing and sharing creative nonfiction. If I enjoyed reading the work of others, why did I view my own essays as navel gazing or amounting to little more than publishing the pages of my diary?
The answers were varied and complicated—personal. They included coming from a family where I was taught secrets were best kept in a box under the bed and little girls should never think themselves so special as to get too big for their britches. In short, I had to confront my own biases and fears to gain the confidence to release my personal stories out into the world.
Now, whenever I have doubts regarding the topic of an essay I’m writing or fears of sharing it, I pause and remind myself tfhat while my experiences are unique to me, my essays contain themes that are universal. I have a right to share my stories and hold on to the belief that other people will want to read them. In essence, I indeed had to get over myself in order to write about myself.
Book Recommendation: Body Work: The Radical Power of Personal Narrative, by Melissa Febos
One of the first and hardest lessons I had to learn was that writing creative nonfiction is not any easier, nor does it require less nuance and skill, than any other form of writing. Just because you are writing about your life, doesn’t make it easier. I am so thankful for the many books on writing creative nonfiction that have helped me study the craft and learn how to write compelling personal essays.
Body Work, by Melissa Febos, is one of the books I return to over and over again. I learn something new each time I read it. Febos began her MFA studies as a fiction writer working on a novel loosely based on her life. She resisted the idea of writing a memoir, because she also feared coming off as self-indulgent and that her work wouldn’t be taken seriously. Body Work is a master class in craft with bits of memoir sprinkled in.
The text comprises four essays on the power of writing and sharing personal narrative. Febos takes on the topics of navel gazing, how to write about sex, the art of confession, and how to handle writing about other people and deal with their reactions. If you are a writer of personal essays or memoir, I highly recommend you spend a weekend reading Body Work.