I am amazed at how reading helps my writing; doing something so enjoyable that furthers my goals, it’s like getting paid to eat ice cream. I am reading Maxine Hong Kingston’s The Warrior Woman and while I love the prose, I wasn’t sure if it would help me as much as the other memoirs I have read. I enjoy the similarity I found with other writers I enjoy, such as Amy Tan, as both she and Kingston explore the Chinese-American culture and create a bridge through their interpretation of being in the middle of both worlds. I also appreciated the author's writing, which reminded me of Gertrude Stein as you get to know about the narrator (author) through her portrayal of how others know and treat her as well as through her interpretation of individual family members.
I have been struggling to write a chapter that has bothered me. I know what I want to say and the first draft was definitely not it! It’s literally kept me up at night, unable to sleep because I couldn’t think of a metaphor to describe the oxymoron I am trying to develop in the story. I needed something familiar to the reader so that I can stretch it later, as Harrison’s writing does so well. And, naturally, since it’s CNF, it has to be true. Thankfully, at 2:30 in the morning, it dawned on me (you’ll have to read the book--ha ha) Kingston’s book sparked the memory that fuels the metaphor that now launches an entire chapter.
I am finding more and more connections with her writing, such as hunger fueling war (this lends ideas for my cannibalism themes). The Warrior Woman’s first chapter “No Name Woman” is tightly wound, beginning and ending with both knowledge and fear: it opens with the order of a secret kept, which is broken in the next sentence by writing about it. By breaking the secret, the story crosses further boundaries, as sharing the aunt’s story allows narrator to begin the multi-cultural scene that explores how family lore affects members of both past and present. Kingston uses the mother’s voice to underscore a daughter’s comprehension of two cultures, bridging the two together. All the information flows together seamlessly. For example, the idea of “brother” becomes intimate and sexually charged—much like an American version of describing the confused role of kissing cousins--so that the secret serves as both protection of family and connection with community. What the narrator can and can’t know about the “secret” leaves her with both knowledge and mystery. She can only know her aunt through her experiences, whether it’s family photos or female understanding about love and lust; therefore, as a reader learns the aunt’s story, the narrator’s is also revealed.
I especially enjoyed the irony that because the aunt is made a secret, her story lives forever, allowing form to follow substance. This technique is something I am trying to use in my writing, where the story is complimented by the sentence structure.
I have also consumed every one of Harrison’s memoirs (she has written three) and I read The Liars Club by Mary Karr—this was one of the best books I have read. I loved the easy prose that carried the blue-collar atmosphere with the most vivid details in nearly every sentence. Reading this was a feast: each page was full of the five senses that allows the reader to feel present in the story, which I am learning is no small feat! I have gone back and read some of my pieces that I took a long break from and have rearranged the prose to have both the voice of experience (so that it’s told in the past) and crisp detail (so that it is as Jess Row has taught me “as clear as you can possibly make it”). In particular, Karr’s description of rape was so precise it was heartbreaking. Her writing on two different assaults was specific and yet still permitted emotion because Karr didn’t describe it in hyperbolic sentences; instead each detail was flawlessly accurate. This is absolutely something that has helped me to understand the overwriting and, frustratingly, obscure details that I have struggled with. I look forward to the next workshop; I just wish I had another year to work on my submission…