And the truth of your experience can only come through in your own voice.
Anne Lamott
Anne Lamott
As an introvert, I’m more comfortable speaking before a large gathering than engaging one-on-one. For me, opening up is reserved for only a trusted few. Listening is more my mode of being, something that seems to be a lost art. In my professional life before writing, I facilitated clients in listening under the words for the meaning. Amazing connections were made when deep listening led to hidden understandings, opening a whole new world between people who’d known each other for decades. But that’s another topic.
Unstructured, open-ended groups are a challenge for me, and, as I’ve learned, for many introverts. We have difficulty breaking into free-for-all conversations to share our viewpoint. If the group is structured around a topic with turns being taken to make room for everyone’s perspective, we do much better.
As a good kid, I mostly obeyed the prevailing custom to which my parents adhered, “Children are to be seen and not heard?” Expressing myself in writing came easier. I read an earlier draft of my memoir, A Long Awakening to Grace, to two friends of almost forty years. They replied several times, “I didn’t know that happened.” I am able to write about things that are difficult to talk about.
These are some of the challenges I faced in finding my writing voice, something I’d read is difficult for all writers and very important. I didn’t fully understand what that meant—to write in my own voice—so I just kept writing and wondering.
Then, in August of 2013, I attended a weekend Memoir Lab at Omega Institute led by Marge Piercy and Ira Wood. There were over forty students in the lab and we all had an opportunity to read a piece of our work before the whole group for feedback. A few read twice. Unbeknownst to me, the experience of hearing so many diverse voices along with the feedback they received about their strengths and weaknesses provided an opening for me to find my voice.
At the end of the lab, I went back to my room with ideas popping I wanted to get down before they were lost. I pulled out my computer, and began revising my first chapter. Suddenly, as I was writing, I stopped in amazement. I was writing differently than ever before. I had found my voice. It was a very exciting moment.
Writing helps us make sense of our lives and find meaning in it. As I study the craft of memoir, I learn that good writing finds a unique way of expressing this. What I discovered about my voice as a writer in that Omega dorm room is my unique way of sharing my internal process with my readers.
In addition to being an introvert, I am a contemplative. I ponder my life experiences, sorting through the chaotic world of feelings and sometimes insane thoughts inside. In the process, I discover growth edges and am guided to valuable life lessons. It’s a messy process and in the end, so very rewarding. And it is a true reflection of how I am in the world.
What surprised and delighted me is the emergence of a touch of irreverence in my voice. Under my calm, serious exterior lies a courageous hint of daring. It makes me smile.
Hi, Linda. I'm curious (as a sister introvert): when you say it is easier to speak to a large group than to an individual, is that because you don't really open up to a group in the same way, and so it is somehow safer? How exciting to have noticed the very moment when you began writing in your own voice!
I remember when you first recognized your voice.AI big moment in the life of a writer. And it just keeps getting better. Good for you!
Margaret,
Your great question sent me to pondering. Awhile back I found a list of introvert characteristics on the Huffington Post. This one was new to me but I related to it. I can be vulnerable to make a point when speaking before a group on a topic about which I’m passionate. One-on-one with new people, I’m shy and self-conscious, probably being careful not to trigger shame. I came from a family with generational shame. I am most vulnerable with people I’ve developed a trusting relationship with over time. Publishing a memoir takes courage as information about which I’ve felt shame will be revealed. Writing this blog is a part of summoning courage. Thank you for connecting with me here. And I’d love to hear how you experience yourself as a sister introvert.
Thank you, Nita,
As my writing partner, you know. We're both working hard to make the writing of our memoirs as good as possible. We've come a long way in our almost two year collaboration. I'm so grateful for you in my life.
Linda, so great to read about your experience of finding your voice. I don't know if I've really found mine yet. Sometimes I feel like I have, but then other times I'm not so sure. I love that you've found “a touch of irreverence,” a “hint of daring,” in yours. That makes me smile too.
Hi Linda, I am really enjoying your blog. I read all of 2016 and then started at the beginning. I’m marveling at your honesty and willingness to be open even about your faults. I admire you and am looking forward to reading the rest. My stepson, Matt is 35 and has Charcoal Marie Tooth disease. It is a form of MD. He is independent at this point and has a girlfriend he lives with. He is slowly deteriorating and it worries me.
Looking forward to your book.
How nice to hear from your, Susan,
Glad you are enjoying my blog. Thanks for the support for my honesty and openness even about my faults. I can write about things I still find difficult to talk about. But it is always a risk. Nice to know it is something you admire. I’m sorry about your stepson. When my kids were diagnosed, I learned that there are 40 different types of neuromuscular diseases. Haven’t heard of Charcoal Marie Tooth. I’m wondering if they have identified more since 1999. Anyway, I certainly understand your being worried. Thanks again for reaching out to me.