Last week I asked you to give me three parts of yourself. Your responses blew me away. If I’ve not answered your email, I’m working
my way toward it. It’s not too late to
give me one if you haven’t yet. It would
be lovely to read it.
Now. If we collect readers as we
do friends, then we must acquaint them to us in the same way. How would you introduce yourself to someone
who isn’t you? A writer must know
herself before she can be authentic with others.
To know yourself better, begin with the obvious bits, as I called them. While I suggested nationality, region,
gender, genre, and topic, don’t confine yourself to those. Think of aspects that you relegate to tick
boxes on application forms, but generally take for granted. When you have that list, which one would be the
first word you use to describe yourself as a writer? To illustrate, let’s start with nationality.
Hello. I am an American writer.
You know your nationality, but what type of nationality is it? You could always have lived in your country
of origin, currently be exiled from it, have returned home after living abroad
or have never lived in your own country.
You could be well travelled inside and outside your country or have
stayed in a thirty mile radius. You
could be seventh generation or the child of immigrants. Any of these possibilities affects your
relationship with your country and your expression of nationality.
In the Writing Closet, we consider things outside our door to be equally
important. Staying with nationality, a
writer from South America, for instance, faces different challenges in forming
a relationship with a European reader than a North American writer does. To know your specific challenges, investigate
how the world looks at your obvious bits.
Don’t ‘imagine’ how the world sees you; research it. Listen to the misconceptions, biases,
negative and positive opinions. Look
into the murky pool dividing who you think you are from what the world
considers you to be. Identify what’s
living in there.
Something as simple as nationality turns out to not be so simple after
all.
Add another bit to your first one.
If we use regional attachment or ethnicity, is your subgroup in conflict
with your country’s dominant culture or are you part of the hegemony? When you’re living at home, which outweighs
the other in your identity – nationality or region? When you’re living away, be it inside your
country or overseas, which do you present to the other culture?
Now that we have two bits, let’s use myself as an example of what a
writer can do with this self information.
Although I’m American, I see myself primarily as Appalachian. This subculture is not well understood inside
the US, even less so in the UK where I now live. My regional identification is probably why
non-Americans see me as atypically American.
Being a minority makes me not-what-they-expect and I should never forget that.
If I go all Appalachian on my reader, there’s an immediate distance between
us which creates tone. The exotic, dark,
bizarre, menacing (Deliverance) or
farcical, homespun, foolish, naive (Beverly
Hillbillies) or traditional, steady, secure, moral (The Waltons). So same
writer, same bits but starkly different tones.
‘Going all Appalachian’ doesn’t mean I only write regional fiction. In fact, I rarely set my work in Appalachia, yet
inevitably Deliverance, the Beverly Hillbillies and The Waltons make an appearance whether I
want them there or not. My rewrites never
fully eradicate any of them. What never
shows up in my writing is Sex in the City,
no matter how hard I try. I can write
about New York, but it will always be as an Appalachian writer.
The obvious bits add depth and colour to your writing. And you’re not just nationality. Are you sure of your gender or your
genre? How well do they fit you? Do you want to be confined to either? Do you express them in traditional,
experimental or totally idiosyncratic ways?
Or do you suppress them? How do
they fare in your country of origin?
As a writer, it’s best to be forewarned about these aspects of your
writer’s voice because your reader always hears them. You can put on any costume you choose, but
you cannot become a coloratura soprano when you’re a contralto. It’s rumoured that all God’s chillen got a
place in the choir, so be a goddam contralto and proud.
Write if you have questions. Next
time, archetype and hopefully, the core of your psyche. Go forth and know your bits, hon.
Nationality is, to me, merely an introductory statement, a broad brush stroke that may spark interest. Every country, even the small ones, has different regional variations in traditions, dialect, culture and these are the more appealing facets of a person. However to introduce oneself using a subculture definition may put potential readers off either because they don’t know what you are talking about or they feel the piece is going to be “too local” to have any pull for the general reader. This has now caused me to think is nationality important to draw in the browsing reader? “I am an American/Australian/Russian writer” or “I am a writer”? I think I have actually now confused myself so if anyone would like to comment and help this “stupid reader” work this out I would be grateful
ReplyDeleteThis is my second attempt to reply, so I hope it's not duplicated. I agree that categorising ourselves can lead to a writer being considered 'regional' & lessen the appeal for some. However, even if a writer doesn't identify as a northern, southern, Asian, female writer, someone else will say she is such & such writer, confine or relegate her to that type writer.
DeleteThe exercise here is to help the writer understand & exploit her own heritage, with the hoped for result of a fuller, richer, deeper & more authentic writer's voice.