by Francine Marie Tolf

Philip Gerard’s observation about a book’s structure feels spot on to me—the average reader doesn’t notice flawed structure until a book falters. As a writer of memoir, I know how vital good structure is. It keeps me in control of my material instead of the other way around. But before starting a book, I have a choice: do I plunge into my story and let structure develop organically, or do I map out a plan?

The preference seems to be to plunge in. “As far as I’m concerned, the less you know about where you’re headed, the better . . . Take your time, listen more to your heart than your head, and let your writing shape itself into what it wants to be.” Elizabeth Berg’s advice (from her book on writing, Escaping into the Open) is echoed by creative writing instructors across America. It’s advice I find immensely attractive, an approach to writing that values the act itself and removes a lot of intimidation.

by Caryl Yvonne Hunter

All writing, even fiction, contains some truth. Characters are usually based, at least in part, on someone we’ve met in our lives. Our perceptions, beliefs, and experiences can’t help but come through in our stories.

But when writing memoir, the author can’t hide behind a character. And no matter how much you might try to avoid telling a story, it will eventually have to be written or you just can’t move on with your life. I read somewhere that author Kathryn Harrison had to write about her incestuous relationship with her father, something that had been running in her head for years. When she finally wrote it out, she was no longer blocked. Said Harrison, “One of the solaces that art can offer you is the chance to make something out of what’s hurt you. You can objectify an experience, put it on paper, craft it, and shape it. There’s perhaps an illusionary control over it. But it is significant.”

by Bev Bachel

“I know we haven’t spoken in years, but I’m about to make a big career move and would really like to pick your brain. Lunch?”

“Okay, I think this draft of my résumé should do it. Could you take one more look and tell me what you think?”

“Hi, I’m friends with your friend _______. Would you be willing to put me in touch with your publisher?”

I get several requests like this each week. Perhaps you do as well. If you’re like me, you go out of your way to help. After all, that’s what being a good friend and colleague is all about.

by Mary Carroll Moore

When my novel, Qualities of Light, was published last fall, I celebrated as anyone would, fully enjoying the readings, book signings, and kudos. The book did well and received some good reviews. I even had my brief moment in the sun, being interviewed on WNPR in New Haven, Connecticut.

Then the furor died down. I unpacked my suitcases, went back to my writing desk, and faced my next book in progress.

by Michael Fedo

After more than 40 years of toiling at the writer’s trade with only middling success, I’ve learned that the absence of anything resembling a bestseller on my résumé may be due to my lack of idiosyncrasies. Caprices seem to be inherent with people who have attained artistic, literary, scientific, or entrepreneurial eminence. According to David Weeks and Jamie James in their book Eccentrics: A Study of Sanity and Strangeness, eccentrics are more creative, productive, and happy than those of us with no discernible quiddities.