I’ve been agonizing over the structure of my memoir. I know I know, just write Patti, don’t worry about the structure. Great advice. As a writing coach myself, I do offer this alot with the caveat that you need to have something else to do while you wait for the big thing you’re angsty about to come.
It arrived this week. A structure, organizing principle, thematic layout, scaffolding for my content. Dear God, I felt like a new person. (do ya feel me here, writers?)
But same old me went toward the kitchen for a cuppa and (how dare this be true) NOTHING. HAD. CHANGED. This was like a birth for me. I could see it. I was scrabbling down chapter outlines in a document, bouncy like my first ever stuffie - Tigger. Same kitchen. Same coffee machine. Same desk piled with research.
Sad trombone. In the grand scheme of things, let’s face it…I couldn’t describe my elation to anyone. I tried it on my long-suffering partner..I did it, I’ve got the structure for my book. He said all the right things, did all the right things. But he didn’t get it.
I lost momentum.
Then I saw my editor the next day. Her smile nearly cracked her beautiful face. She got it. And even though, at the nearly 24-hour mark I was tinkering with amendments to that structure I’d worked for weeks to nail, she held space for it.
THIS. IS. WRITING. TOO.
If you’re tuned in about my work on Rambles, my next book…this structure and the stylistic format are really different for me, so I don’t think I’ll leak the deets just yet. Too tender about criticism still.
photo by Pablo Beglez, G.O.A.T Mastermind, with David Vox, Barcelona.
(Hey, find yourself someone that gets it? Writing is a team sport…find your team…)
P