Your First Small Piece, Written Out Loud
okay so. we've talked about picking one memory. we've talked about how four sentences counts. we've talked about separating the spreadsheet stuff from the person stuff. now we're actually doing it. today you write the thing.
i want to be upfront that this lesson feels like the scary one, even though it's the same size step as everything before it. there's something about knowing you're going to read it out loud, even just to yourself, even just to me, that makes people freeze up. no worries at all. that's normal, and i'm going to walk you through it in small enough pieces that the freezing doesn't have room to happen.
step one: say it before you write it
don't open a document first. talk first.
pick your one memory, the one you've had sitting in your head for the last two lessons. now say it out loud, like you're telling a friend at the DI, standing in line with a cart full of stuff you don't need. just talk. "okay so my grandpa used to keep a coffee can of nails on his workbench and he'd sort them by size when he was thinking about something."
that's it. that's a sentence. say a few more like it.
i do this because writing and talking use different parts of your brain, honestly, and talking is the one that doesn't judge itself as hard. you don't proofread out loud. you just say the true thing.
step two: write down what you just said
now open your phone notes, or a plain document, whatever you've got. don't dress it up. type the sentences close to how you said them.
people want to fix this step immediately, make it sound more "written." resist that for now. we're capturing, not polishing.
step three: add one boring detail
this is the one i push hardest on. what did he eat, what did she drive, how did they take their coffee, what was in the coffee can. the boring detail is the good detail. it's the thing that makes a stranger believe the person was real.
if you're stuck, ask yourself what was in the room. a smell, a sound, the temperature. dry air up here means a lot of our memories probably have some version of "it was so dry that summer" in them, and that's fine, that counts too.
step four: read it back out loud
this is the test. if it sounds like a spreadsheet with feelings pretending, you'll hear it. your voice will go flat and fast, like you're reading a receipt. if it sounds like a person, you'll hear that too, it'll have a little rhythm to it.
i've told you before, i wrote a version of a story once that was just dates and places stacked up, and reading it back out loud was the moment i realized it was garbage. so i deleted it and started over with one sentence: he was always cold. that version worked. anyway.
a small caution
if the memory you picked is a hard one, a loss, an argument, something with real weight, go slow with yourself here. writing it down and reading it out loud can bring up more than you expect, even for something that happened decades ago. that's not a reason to avoid it. it's just a reason to maybe do this part alone first, before you do it in front of anybody, including me.
on accuracy, real quick
somebody in class always asks, but what if i don't remember it right. here's the thing. you don't need it to be accurate to be worth writing. write "the way we tell it is—" and just keep going. a half-remembered story that your family actually loves and repeats is worth more on the page than a blank one you never wrote because you were waiting to fact-check it. you can chase the facts later. that's a different project, the spreadsheet project. today is the person project.
proof this works with almost nothing
i keep a photocopy of a letter, an ancestor writing home, apologizing for taking so long to write. then four sentences. then he signs off. that's the whole letter. i love it. i think about it constantly, actually, because it proves the point better than anything i could make up. four sentences, written a hundred plus years ago by someone who thought he owed an apology for not writing "enough," and it's one of the most alive pieces of family history i own.
you are not behind. you are not doing it wrong if it's short. short is the format. short is fine. short is great.
before next time
bring your small piece, even if it's rough, even if it's four sentences and a coffee can of nails. we're going to read a few out loud in class, only if you want to, no pressure on that part. just have something on the page.