Resonant Storytelling by Sarah Chauncey

Learn how to write more, better and easier by creating the conditions for creativity to flourish Credit: Leo Rivas on Unsplash On Thursday, May 28 at 4pm, I’ll be giving a presentation to the Victoria Writers Network on The Law of Increasing Flow (at the Greater Victoria Public Library, 735 Broughton St.). The event is free, though the organizers request that you register in advance, so they know how many people to expect.

If you’ve followed my writing for any length of time, you’ll know I’m passionate about something I call the Law of Increasing Flow. Twenty years ago, I had a prestigious writing job that required enormous research and output. I loved it…until suddenly I didn’t. The harder I tried to keep up with deadlines and expectations, the fewer words I could get onto the page. And my writing became stilted and just plain bad. The better-known law of diminishing returns had kicked in.

Tomorrow, I’ll be offering a free webinar with Jane Friedman for writers with ADHD. Of course, we each have unique brains, yet there are some patterns I’ve noticed among my clients with ADHD—and which I also see in my own writing.

In the last Resonant Storytelling, you read about what POV means in narrative writing. That post covered the different types of POV (first, limited third, omniscient third). With the exception of omniscient, each POV creates narrative constraints. Specifically: You can’t share what a character (you, in memoir) didn’t experience, think or feel directly in a given moment.

Here’s some table hockey… In 1997, before some of you whippersnappers were born, I was obsessed with ice hockey and wrote for a couple of hockey magazines. Curious about what it must be like for gay men in the NHL, I began to research and outline a novel about two gay NHLers who were a couple (each married to one half of a lesbian couple for cover). In my story, the men were outed at the funeral of a junior coach who had sexually abused one of them.

Photo credit: Robert Winkler Everything in nature happens in cycles. Tides ebb and flow according to the moon. Flowers blossom, die, and new flowers are born. The moon waxes and wanes; animals coats grow thicker, then shed. No part of nature gets stressed out about these cycles. How easy it is to forget, especially amidst holiday chaos, that we humans are merely animals, and as such, we’re designed to slow down and conserve energy in winter.

Happy December, everyone! It’s the rainy season in the Pacific Northwest, so I’ve dragged out my 10,000-lux light and am taking Vitamin D by the fistful. I’m not big on holiday events, but I do enjoy the lights, carols and (most of all) chocolate peppermint season. It’s a good thing there are no Trader Joes in Canada, because I would eat through their entire stock of chocolate peppermint JoJos, bark and everything else with that flavor.

Before I get into the ChatGPT of it all, please read this comprehensive guide to finding, hiring and working with an editor on Jane Friedman’s site. And also, if the subject line made you want to vomit a little, don’t unsubscribe just yet. You might be pleasantly surprised by this post. Along with many of my colleagues, I’ve noticed a steep drop in client inquiries this fall.

Nearly every memoir writer or novelist dreams of having their story adapted into a series. Today, Greg Cope White is able to see that dream realized, nearly a decade after he published his memoir, The Pink Marine. The Netflix adaptation, BOOTS, premieres today. Over the past year, I’ve gotten to know Greg through Instagram DMs, text and Zoom.

“Show, don’t tell” is one of the most fundamental lessons in narrative storytelling. However, showing requires exponentially more words than telling, because to show is to re-create what happened. Telling, aka summarizing, is more efficient but largely devoid of emotional impact for the reader. Clients often ask me how they cana know what to show and what to tell.