I've often heard the words, 'I can't write' and 'I'm not a writer'.
I have always believed that where there is will, there is way. We learn by doing.
It's true that our craft can be learned, the nuts and bolts like punctuation, sentence structure, vocabulary, and reading alot of books by a variety of authors in genres we like can offer valuable insights into how all of that comes together to create good writing.
But I suspect there is one aspect of our craft that, as apprentices, we cannot learn in the same way, and that is the connection with the soul.
This is especially true in memoir where the stories we tell come from the heart, the spirit, the soul, because that is where they dwell, waiting for an invitation to come forward. 'Don't be shy', we say, 'make yourselves known, so we can explore, nurture, and write about you.'
'Jane's finally lost her marbles,' I hear you say, but no, I don't think so, however I can say with confidence that this intuitive source of inspiration resting within us can be tapped into if we allow it. It's not about nuts and bolts learning here. It's more about sitting with it, quietly, listening to the whispers of the soul as it begins to speak to us.
And I reckon this is why writers sit around alot, looking like they aren't doing much of anything, gazing into a distance that, to them, is coloured with thoughts, feelings, sensations, and a full range of emotion.
Learning to connect in this way takes time, and a willingness to go there, and I wonder if this is what someone means when they say, 'I can't write'. Writing memoir requires a willingness to venture forth into territory that holds unknown depths, and that can take courage, a committment to truth, and, no matter how hard that journey may be, a determination to see it through.
So how to create this connection? It takes practice. Some writers head off on a retreat, take themselves out of every day life for a while, to think and process. Others rent a beach bach for a few days. For those of us who cannot take such treasured breaks, we make some alone-time during busy days, to gather thoughts and be with our writing and creativity.
When I think of my own soul, the place from where my stories come, I often visualise the little girl I was at five or six, with bright blue eyes, blonde hair in two pigtails, wearing the Easter dress with the prickly puffed-out petticoat, a little girl who holds out her arms to be held, cuddled, and set on Mom's lap to be read to.
This child speaks to me with the innocence of a life just beginning, but with a clear-eyed truth, honesty, and a wonder at the world she is just starting to see. She doesn't know what her life will bring, the joys, losses, pain, trauma, fulfilments and delights she will experience.
Those are the stories for Jane the Writer to tell.