I’ve started a new writing project, one based on a journey I took many years ago. It was a long journey: seven months, and a challenging one. I’d sold pretty much everything of value I owned—business, home, car—bought an around-the-world airline ticket and set off with little more than one suitcase and a handful of plans. I still have the journals I kept of my travels, as well as packets of letters I received at various locations, a few photographs. But I’ve decided not to reread the journals as I’m writing, but to just let the memories and the images appear in daily writing sessions.
I think of them more like Geppetto’s workshop where he cobbled together his puppet, Pinocchio, who he wanted so desperately to be a real boy. Isn’t this what we do when we participate in a writing workshop? Piece together shards of characters or settings or incidents of our lives to create our own living thing—be it a novel, a memoir, a poem, an essay, an Continue reading