My memoir “Girl in the Spotlight” will be available for preorder this Tuesday, August 15. To get a first look at the cover, book description, and advance praise click here.
During my sophomore year of college, I signed up for a creative nonfiction writing class. This would be a different style of writing and storytelling than what I was learning as a broadcast journalism major, but when I read the course description, I felt an inexplicable urge to try something new.
The professor let us pick the topics we wanted to write about. She prompted us to think about moments in our lives that felt significant and use those memories as a starting point.
Each week, I’d turn in a draft and she’d hand it back with notes and questions in the margins: “Expand on this. What do you mean here?”
I believe there’s gold in the rough draft, but the revision process is where the true work happens, because it requires digging deeper to get to the heart of the matter, below the surface of our normal human reactions to things.
What’s below the surface is the truest thing.
One week, I submitted a story about my relationship with my father. I’d written the piece from his point of view, starting with the words from a note he’d written me. In the scene, I imagined how he might’ve felt when he wrote it.
My professor returned the pages with one line of feedback: “This is a powerful piece of writing, but I wonder how the story might look from your perspective?”
In the moment, the question took my breath.
Over the years, the question has saved my life.
I knew how to put myself in other people’s shoes. I knew how to see my life through the eyes of others. I didn’t yet know how to step into my own shoes and walk my own path; to look at my reflection in the mirror and see myself. My actual self. Not the roles I played. Not the ways I performed and shape-shifted to keep the peace; to be received and loved.
Memories are subjective, and it’s important to consider other people’s points of view, but as it turns out, the only thing missing from the story of my life was me.
A few weeks ago, I found myself thinking about that professor. I looked her up on Facebook and sent her a message. I told her that 30 years later I wouldn’t expect her to remember me, but I wanted to reach out because the seeds of a story that began to grow and take root in her class had evolved into pages of a soon-to-be published book. I wanted to say thank you.
It started with the simple suggestion: “I wonder how the story might look from your perspective?”
I can’t wait for you to read it. I hope it resonates with anyone trying to find their own way; searching for their own voice in the midst of so many others. I hope my story lifts you, lightens you, and helps set you free.
I am so excited for you and can't wait to get my copy! I'm also wondering if the professor responded? Big Congratulations to you!
I can hardly wait to read this!