In 2017, Bill and I embarked on what would become a continuing adventure—the publishing of our own memoir resources and related books under the Juncture Workshops handle. We called our first book Tell the Truth. Make It Matter. With Bill’s inkblot images accompanying my suggestions, prompts, question cascades, and illustrative excerpts, we offered an oversized book that led emerging and established memoirists toward the writing of telling details, scenes, self, landscape, character, food, dialogue, and, ultimately, a preface that would announce the book’s voice, tone, mood, and themes.
To our (delighted) surprise, Tell the Truth was adopted by high school teachers, used by workshop leaders, and incorporated into the creative life of thousands of writers.
Today I’m sharing a question cascade from the pages of Truth—a teaching tool I developed in my work with both college and (even more) adult students as a way to approach remembering newly. “What do you know about ice?” I wonder at the start of this cascade, beginning a progression that moves from the real world (ice, umbrellas, chocolate) toward the intangible (wealth, evil, generosity). While the final questions may seem designed to provoke the most profound responses, I’ve been awed by the profundities that have emerged from, say, meditations on chocolate. But, most importantly, I’ve been gratified by the way that a series of linked questions seem to make remembering and writing less daunting, more fun, and (I want this, too, for everyone) surprisingly productive.
Perhaps you’ll share a what-do-you-know response in the comments section. I’d love to learn this about you.
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I have written numerous books on the art of writing and of living a literary life. All can be found here.
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I know that evil is not always what it appears to be, that the seemingly virtuous, godly, devout are capable of despicable, depraved, deceitful behavior. I know that those we consider decidedly less connected to the divine can be generous, loving, even moral. Theirs is not a morality of the pious. But be assured, even outlaws follow codes. Even criminals can be good parents, faithful husbands, and loyal friends. I know this because I saw it in my childhood home. I wish it had been otherwise. But I’m grateful for my foolish loyalty as a kid, for forgiveness, for grace. Though it took until I was twenty-four, I’m grateful to have finally insisted, “Jesus would never say that to me.”
What I know about ice. It prisms, shatters, schisms. It dares me with shards.