Writing Our Stories

My sister, visiting from Atlanta, joined me last week on my evening walk through our neighborhood. In 1964, our family was one of the first to move into what was referred to as Vatican Valley, a space that would be filled with mostly Catholic and Jewish families during the years when Pope John XXIII was calling for ecumenical outreach. As we walked, we reminisced about the families who first lived in the houses we passed. We shared memories of old friends, of good times and hard lessons. My sister was impressed by how much I could remember about the people and their lives.

Sometimes, as writers, I think these memories can help develop great stories, but they can also block our creative thinking. We can get stuck in the details of the truth, finding ourselves worrying about who may read our work and how it may make them feel, and if we “got it right.” We tip-toe through the tulips, and it stifles our moving forward. Writing stories from our past can be tricky. What may be a great story for us could bring back terrible memories for others.

I’m not saying that, as writers, we shouldn’t use the familiar in our work. I’m not saying we can’t “write what we know.” I am saying that if we are questioning if we are frozen, it may be time to re-imagine our past, mix up our thoughts and choose the make-believe over the real. We can’t let our memory mess with our creativity.

I have worked in our family bookstore for over forty years. My mind is overflowing with stories of good and evil, of joy and sadness, of success and failure. I have hundreds of stories of the people who live on the streets of Nashville, of everyday customers who know the power of prayer, and of how the answers to those prayers affect the people in their lives. I’ve heard plenty of words that are difficult to believe. Naturally, I want to write these stories that I have witnessed, and yet, these very stories are what freezes me. Will I get it right? Can I do them justice? There are so many fine lines.

Writing our stories, sharing our memories, and telling the truth can set us free, but it also can hold us down. I’m trying my hand at fiction for the first time ever, you know, that great American novel. I can truthfully say that this is the most difficult writing I’ve ever done. Memories and details are helping but also getting in the way. So, I walk, breathing the fresh air and clearing my mind, and waiting for the next morning to see where it all leads; back to old friends, good times, and hard lessons.

Stuck? Past memories in your way? What do you do to move forward?

Julie Cragon

Julie Cragon is a Catholic wife, mother, and grandmother. She and her husband Allen own and manage St. Mary’s Bookstore and Church Supply in Nashville, TN along with their two oldest daughters, Beth and Sarah, and her sister, Donna.

Julie is the author of six books, including Bless My Child and her most recent book, Bless My Grandchild. She writes at JulieCragonAuthor.com