I was reminded of this analogy when reading a profile a couple of months ago in The New York Times on David Ritz, credited memoir ghostwriter to such musical stars as Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, and Etta James, among others. (Author of the article, Nate Chinen, dubs Ritz "confessional bard of rhythm and blues.") Reading how Ritz found his calling is fascinating in itself, as are his colorful tales of working with such luminaries and his reflections on an amazingly prolific career. (This year alone he has five new books.) But what really hit home for me were his comments on a critical (THE critical) aspect of memoir writing: the willingness of the subjects to open their hearts.
“I’ve had a number of books where I could not attain the intimacy that I needed,” Mr. Ritz said with a pragmatic air, “and it showed in the book.” Noting the direct correlation between unguardedness and public response, he added: “All the good books are by people who open their hearts. Because, in turn, that touches the hearts of readers.”
This point has moved front-center in my mind recently, as I assess my level of success with my client's book, scan the horizon for a new project, and attempt (with much flailing of spirit, feelings of inadequacy, and a sense of futility) to work on my own memoir projects. How difficult it is to open one's heart. What effort and skill it takes to recount one's experiences without falling into maudlin/exculpatory/self-aggrandizing/whitewashing detours into the pedestrian. How impossible to be honest!
Time after time I turn to the memoirs on my shelf for inspiration, most recently Cheryl Strayed's devastatingly honest memoir, Wild. What is the common denominator in the best of these books? An unflinching exploration of the past, of the self, of personal failings, fears, and foibles. A willingness to sit before the mirror, not with a candle for light but under the full-on florescent glare of self-honesty.
"To thine own self be true." Indeed. A formidable task alike for the memoir writer relating her own story as for the ghostwriter helping a client tell his tale in way that moves the hearts of readers.
Nice blog, Jeanne. I can see where writing memoirs for and with people could be like an archaeological dig. Slowly, methodically removing layers of protection until finally the treasure is revealed. The treasure being the truth.
ReplyDeleteA very apt simile Andrea. It is so true. And those layers of protection can be rock hard :-/ With memoir it seems a core principle is that if an anecdote is painful or embarrassing to put down on paper, that's precisely the one that needs to be included. But then of course, those are the hardest to unearth. Thanks for the comment!
ReplyDeleteA powerful post, Jeanne! I wonder if this is true of all writers? The most profound shift I had in writing was a week-long Franciscan retreat I attended focused on writing into one's truth. I think this is the same as opening one's heart. I left, looking at the world differently. I fully embraced my writer-self, flawed and yet fulfilled in my purpose. I've often wondered how ghost writers get at the story of their clients; I see that you must get at the client's heart with yours open, too. Very thought-provoking!
ReplyDeleteYes, Charli, certainly getting at the truth and heart of things (Hemingway's "one true sentence" comes to mind here) crosses all genres of writing. And I see what you mean when you conflate writing one's truth with opening one's heart. Now there is a profound observation. Thank you for weighing in here. And sometime you must tell me more about your Franciscan retreat!
ReplyDeleteHello Jeanne, I am so glad to at long last come over to your blog. I would like to follow your other blog also, but couldn't find the 'follow' button. I have so much enjoyed our interraction over at Carrot Ranch and your comments and personal replies to me have encouraged me so greatly, and I want to thank you very much for sharing your heart with me in such a way. I didn't know you were a memoir writer until reading your blog here! I am not sure if you know this, but I am writing my memoir about my three years with my American GI back in the late 70s. It was a tumultous time, the events profound, changing us both irrevocably. I find what you write here so helpful, and I can only hope that my book will indeed reach the reader. I can only write when I 'feel' it, even when I blog, and used to wonder if I shared too much, but then I thought, actually, this is the way it has to be. Any other way, and it is stilted and not getting to the heart of the matter. Writing from the heart is the only way isn't it? I didn't start writing flash fiction until last year, having discovered Charli's excellent challenge, and now I find them the perfect distraction coming up for air from my memoir. I love the free rein it gives me and yes, the dark path to explore! I am so glad to have met you through Charli, I so look forward to reading more of your wonderful writing. Thank you again Jeanne.
ReplyDeleteWonderful to see you here Sherri. I am trying to import these posts into my new Wordpress blog but can't quite get it to work. Also trying to find the right plug-in or widget for the "follow" button. I have enjoyed your writing on Charli's site and thanks for sharing with me the news about your memoir. I admire anyone who can keep going on a memoir. I seem to stall over and over again, through fear mostly, and a reluctance to revisit what is probably the crucial point of what I am writing. I have two manuscripts at present, one I have tried to fictionalize, but that seems a cop out to me. So yes, I am trying to write from the heart without falling into the pitfalls I mentioned in this post. I look forward to reading more of your writing too! Thanks for visiting and commenting!
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