Nine Piles Of Files And One Book

It’s sunny and warm outside.  There’s a breeze and birdsong.  The cherry, pear, and apple trees are in full bloom, and I can smell the cottonwood trees.  Life is sweet today, and I am feeling contented and lazy.  Sitting outside and doing nothing feels terribly appealing.

However, I have a blog post to create, so coffee is brewing in the kitchen—bribing myself with lattes—while I begin writing.

I am back to seriously playing with my book draft.  Yesterday I set up a card table next to my studio work table, and laid out the various files of writing into three rows of three stacks each.  This is everything so far, my whole book where I can see it.

The tallest pile is Scenes In Development.  Here is the core of my book, and hooray to it being the tallest pile because it tells me I am making progress.

Next to it is Random Scenes, writing that sort of fits the story but the connection is tenuous.  With some rewriting, these scenes may fall in and be included, or they may not. If not, I’ll put them aside for use in something else.

Idea Lists/Maybes come next.  Here live the undeveloped thoughts, waiting to be played with and nurtured to see what grows.

In the middle row is Why This Story.  This is the what-if’s and why-I-care’s, the what’s-the-point’s and what’s-my-point’s.  Reasons, needs, and wants that push me to write.  A list of themes.  A one paragraph synopsis written crazy-dramatic, as though this story of healing is a suspense thriller.

Characters is next.  Bios and backstories, parallel story scenes, what drives each character and what trips them up (sometimes the same thing), and the rules of their worlds (how they see life).

Appendices are last in the middle row.  This is a story of healing, and as I wrote the first draft, I realized it needed a place for information beyond the story.  References, suggestions, examples, and how-to’s that don’t fit in the story-telling space, yet are a necessary second level for the reader.

The third row of files begins with Readers.  Here are my notes about who I am writing for (imaginary bios), who I see wanting and needing this book, who picks it up and reads it, what I want this story to do for those who read it.

Processes comes after Readers.  This is my collection of prompts and methods that help me imagine the pieces of my story and book, and guide me into seeing what I need to see in my mind’s eye.  This collection unsticks me when I get stuck.

The final pile on my card table is General Info.  Information on writing memoir, lists of memory triggers, timeline construction when interweaving past and present, tips on layering complex emotions, and more.  References that teach me and enrich my writing.

It’s all here, what I’ve collected and written into story so far. 

Seeing the work laid out makes the book real to me. 

Writing this story was never just a whim or something to pass the time.  It was always serious play, but now I truly see I am creating something tangible.  My nine piles of writing make me proud of what I’ve accomplished, and they show me where I go next in my creation.

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Related to this post:

Tom Hart said of all the material he gathered, wrote, and drew for Rosalie Lightning: a Graphic Memoir, only about 10 percent showed up in the finished book. He needed all 100 percent in order to find the story thread he wanted to tell. Tom’s book The Art of the Graphic Memoir came out in 2018, and it has become one of my essential references as I write my book.
http://www.tomhart.net/

Image, Word, Emotion

‘Note to myself at 4 a.m.: I miss you’

For Christmas, my sister gave me a gift I’d hoped for, the book Rosalie Lightning by Tom Hart.

I cocooned myself on the living room couch, and read the book slowly over two December afternoons.  I could have read it slowly in one, but I had to stop halfway.  I had to stop and let my feelings wash through me.  Wash through me and make enough room to experience the second half of Tom’s story.

Rosalie Lightning is a graphic memoir.  Tom and Leela’s young daughter Rosalie died suddenly and unexpectedly. Tom found a way through, drawing and writing.

You’d think this memoir is about grief.  You’d be wrong.

Tom, Leela, and Rosalie’s story is about love.  Immense, devastating, life-filled love.

Grief is always about love.  I have learned this over the past year, grieving and loving first my Dad and then my cousin.  Feeling both empty and far too full at the exact same time.  Frozen in place, and yet needing to run as desperately fast as I could, as if I could outrun pain.

You can’t outrun your heart.

My heart—love—is the only thing that can carry me through when nothing feels right.

Tom knows about heart and nothing feeling right.  His book tells something unimaginable, chaotic, stark, crushing.  And yet, at the same time, his images and words show a way of continuing to love when you don’t know how.

Emotion.  I try, but words cannot hold the whole of it, and images only suggest it.  Then I see them together, and there is magic.  Together they walk me into layers of feeling another person’s world, knowing beyond any doubt my world feels the same.  Word and image together reach into my heart and heal me.

Tom Hart, your name fits you perfectly.  Say it aloud.  Hart.  Heart.

Thank you for Rosalie’s story.

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In this post:

Rosalie Lightning:  a graphic memoir by Tom Hart.  St. Martin’s Press, New York.  2015.  http://www.tomhart.net/  I also have his book The Art Of The Graphic Memoir which I am beginning to work through.  This book came out in November 2018, also published by St. Martin’s Press.