WRITING MEMOIR

By Sandra Schmid

My memoir began when I thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail twenty years ago. Like many memoirs, something extraordinary happened, something so contrary that I had to remember and try to put it into words. I needed to know why hiking in nature for six months, alone, made me so happy.

My search for words started a new journey. When we moved to Maryland, I published my first short story about my trail experience. The thrill of being in print was comparable to standing on Mt. Katahdin all over again.

In Boise, I joined a writer’s group. We shared our deepest stories. Vulnerable, we became friends. My book gave me a home. 

In Tallahassee, writing classes and seminars opened doors to more publications and friends. I had a focus. I would finish my book.

By the time we moved to Asheville after following work with the Forest Service for twenty years, my story went into a suitcase holding candles and incense on the floor. 

Moving to Columbia just last year, poetry sprouted from the musty case. I read one out loud at Kool Beans with Al Black. 

My memoir is my life. I don’t want it to end. Until I find the right words to express my love for the trail, the journey goes on.

WRITING BY HAND

By Sandra Schmid

There’s a current trend to get rid of stuff. We walk through our house, picking up each thing, asking if we love it. If not, Goodwill gets it. 

I’m trying the same technique on my manuscript. Chapters are dropped that don’t move the story. Excess words, slashed. Till eventually, I can hold something I love. 

The question arises, how do I know when I love my writing?

I’ve been writing the same story for twenty years. Drafts have accumulated. I’m a hoarder of words.

  

To rediscover my love, my hand and eyes becomes the gauge for whether the words stay or get thrown away. If copying a paragraph by hand feels torturous to my arthritic fingers, it’s probably ready for Goodwill. On the other hand, if the pen floats effortlessly across the page, I’m reconnecting with the heart and soul of my story. Those are the words worth keeping. 

When my eyes speed across the page, skimming to get through, I’m bored. My reader will be too. But when my eyes slow down to take a long, sensuous look, I start copying. 

Unlike the current trend to throw everything away, I advise keeping copies of our waste. Sometimes, old words trigger the best parts of our book. 

Reconnect with an old manuscript stashed away in a suitcase. Romance it. Feel it with your hand, your eyes, your heart and soul. Write until you love it.