Last semester I took Creative Nonfiction. It proved to be the most difficult class I have yet to take. Granted it had been a tough year. Since I teach I view my life in semesters. So first semester from August to December, I lost a very dear friend, Brenda Kramer, to cancer. Brenda was a gifted nurse. She and I had been on several mission trips to La Ceiba, Honduras together. In May of last year, Brenda was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and was dead by December 2. The rapidity of her physical deterioration was faster than my emotions could keep up with. At that point, I was taking Creative Writing. Beyond a doubt, the writing for that class enabled me to escape into my imagination and find a harbor that gave temporary shelter from the storm of pain.
For some crazy reason I expected the Creative Nonfiction class I was in second semester to do the same thing for me. What was I thinking? In January, my mother, who had lived with me and my family informed me that she was moving back to Florida. She is eighty-two years old and still has an indomitable will. My mother has always believed that the world must bend to her will. Her departure and the Creative Nonfiction class I was in signaled a personal exploration that was like diving into the deep end of the ocean. At various points I knew that my writing was going to die. In many ways I had taken the stories of my mother’s and my life and combined them in both fiction and nonfiction writing. However, as I came across the hurt and the pain of our relationship, I could not write my way out of it. This was very serious since I had based my final project for the class on of all things, my mother. I began to question whether I wanted to write at all, and if so, what genre would I write in?
The only thing I could do was write and rewrite, which is what I did. You can imagine my elation when I went to register and saw the class, Beach Reading for Writers. I believe my head is just coming out from under the deep end of the ocean. So now back to the question of what genre do you want to write in? I am waiting for that to be revealed. In the meantime I will just keep writing.
For some crazy reason I expected the Creative Nonfiction class I was in second semester to do the same thing for me. What was I thinking? In January, my mother, who had lived with me and my family informed me that she was moving back to Florida. She is eighty-two years old and still has an indomitable will. My mother has always believed that the world must bend to her will. Her departure and the Creative Nonfiction class I was in signaled a personal exploration that was like diving into the deep end of the ocean. At various points I knew that my writing was going to die. In many ways I had taken the stories of my mother’s and my life and combined them in both fiction and nonfiction writing. However, as I came across the hurt and the pain of our relationship, I could not write my way out of it. This was very serious since I had based my final project for the class on of all things, my mother. I began to question whether I wanted to write at all, and if so, what genre would I write in?
The only thing I could do was write and rewrite, which is what I did. You can imagine my elation when I went to register and saw the class, Beach Reading for Writers. I believe my head is just coming out from under the deep end of the ocean. So now back to the question of what genre do you want to write in? I am waiting for that to be revealed. In the meantime I will just keep writing.
Toni, I am really sorry about your friend Brenda. It is hard to take your life and write about it when you have fresh wounds. Creative nonfiction writing can be grueling when the topic is your own life. You notice that I wrote about someone other than myself in my long essay for that class. It was a lot easier to do that than to write about myself and/or my family.
ReplyDeleteToni, I'm glad that you are able to allow this class to serve as your "guideboat." I agree with Kathleen that Creative Nonfiction can be incredibly difficult because you can be forced to relive painful memories in an intricate manner. I'm glad to see that you are letting the words come to you.
ReplyDeleteToni, I'm so sorry for your loss. That is gut-wrenching. Then to hear about your mother and know that we're reading Prince of Tides--I hope you are hanging in there. I've had to put the book down on too many occasions because of the raw truth of it. I hope you find inspiration in the writing and inspiration toward writing your own truth. Hang in there! "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning." I hope your dawn has come!
ReplyDeleteCreative Nonfiction was probably the toughest class I've taken since some of my old Psychology classes in the undergrad days. Every story is so personal, because it's YOUR STUFF. During the semester that I took that course, I would sometimes dream that I had come to class in my underwear. Freud would have had a field day with that one...
ReplyDeleteToni, loss is so difficult and it can either fuel your writing fire or put it out for a bit. Creative non-fiction can bring out all of the emotions you have especially when it deals with loss. When I was in that class I wrote about my grandfather whom I had recently lost. I think writing is therapeutic when dealing with loss.
ReplyDeleteToni, I am sorry for your loss. Sometimes I wonder if Beach Reading might be a misnomer for this class, since we are reading some heavy stuff, but the pressure to write it is off for now.
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