Stirring Up Memories

Yesterday at my “Finding Theme and Structure in Memoir” workshop, we talked about using writing prompts to stir memories. I mentioned that never-fail memory stirrer-upper I first learned from Natalie Goldberg’s book, Writing Down the Bones. Just start with “I remember…” and follow the pen where it leads.

I told the group about one of the many ways I use the “I remember…” prompt which I wrote about in my book, Wild Women, Wild Voices.

“At the top of a clean sheet of paper, put “I remember ___________” and the specific name of a person you want to direct your memory toward; then write a pageful of two-or three-sentence memories about that person, with just enough detail to bring the memory to life. Skip a line between each individual memory until you’ve written four or five separate incidents or images.

“This exercise can build a series of memory threads that may be woven together to create a longer piece (sometimes the intuitive mind will hook memories together in a way that may not be obvious at first read-through), or the individual memories may each be the seed of a separate story.

My best friend Betty, her mother and me. Summer 1954

“Another way to access memories or stories from times gone by is to begin with a specific year. Many childhood memories flare when we put ourselves back in the classroom, so try beginning with a school year: “When I was in fourth grade…” An even more direct approach is to begin with a particular season of a specific year. The seasonal aspect will offer up sensory details that make a memory more vivid. For some reason, many of my memories of childhood and adolescence take place in summer.”

This is the beginning of a piece that came when I used the prompt.

In August the grapes hung heavy in the arbor, deep purple and glowing among leaves the color of moss and as large as my hand. The arbor, with its sturdy pillars and white wooden benches, ran half the length of the side yard of my best friend’s home. Those hot afternoons when the air grew thick with humidity and the winey scent of ripening grapes drove the bees into a frenzy, we’d take our chilled Cokes and fan magazines into the arbor as though we were entering someplace holy.

Try writing your memories in first person, present tense, as if you’re still in that particular place at that particular time. This technique will bring alive details you don’t consciously remember and lend an immediacy to the writing. Then, in another exercise, use the reminiscent narrator’s voice, and write in past tense (still in first person), as an adult, looking back and remembering. This voice may reveal how the experience affected you and the person you are now. This is often the memoirist’s voice.

Is there a season that brings most memories to you? How do you use the “I remember…” prompt?

18 thoughts on “Stirring Up Memories

  1. Very inspiring Judy – much appreciated. If I go down this road of writing a memoir, I will certainly use this prompt in starting the process of gathering up material.

    I guess there is so much to write about that if you really started earnestly on this creative process you would never stop….

    ” Even after a single day’s experience of the outside world
    a man could easily live a hundred years in prison. He’d have
    laid up enough memories never to be bored.”
    Albert Camus

    .

    • Thanks, Michael. Camus’ “never bored,” reminds me of Flanner O’Connor’s line (I’m paraphrasing) If you’ve survived childhood you have stories enough for a lifetime. I’m thinking of Camus again, and how important it is to for us to actually be present when we have our “day’s experience of the outside world.” Thanks again, and always, for stopping by. best,
      Judy

  2. Thanks to all of you for discussing “memories” and using them as a taking off point for our writing. I enjoyed reading all of your replies. I have not done any writing of this kind in a very long time…in fact, I haven’t done writing of any kind in a long time. I realize that I need to set aside time each day to write. I miss it.

    • Hi Arlene, thanks for writing. I know that feeling of missing the writing when life interferes and I don’t set aside the needed time. It’s a kind of longing that can only be satisfied by doing the thing. I hope you’ll be able to set aside that time and just begin with “I remember…” and see where it takes you. So many memories, so many stories. Keep me posted on how it goes for you.
      All best,
      Judy

  3. “I remember” is my favorite go to prompt. It’s interesting I’ve been going to it a lot lately. Here’s another variation. “Do you remember me? I’m the one…”

  4. I love this prompt. And it has been a great memory jogger, taking me back to specific times, places, smells, feels… but at 68, I wonder, am I remembering things that were or things that might have been … it may not matter if it is fiction-fodder, but it can be paralyzing, if I am trying to write a memoir.

    • Hi Mary, thanks for your note. Your question is something all memoirists must deal with: is this the truth or did I make this up? What’s important, I think, is that we allow the memories to surface and write them as they come, including the details you’ve mentioned of times, places, sensory elements and let the memory tell us its truth. We can review some things with others who were present at the time of the event, or who may have details we don’t have. For example, my sister is a genealogist, so when I run into certain “facts” of our lives and our family, I ask her to confirm… “did we live here when this event happened, or had we moved to here?” “Did our grandmother die before our little sister was born or after?” She’s been of immense help to me as I write my own stories. But it’s the emotional content of the memory that is our “truth,” and that’s what we explore.

      I hope you don’t let your wondering paralyze you from writing the memories as they want to come. I say write them first, then check some of the factual details as you can. Keep me posted!
      Thanks,
      Judy

      • Thanks, Judy. Believe me, I write them all down, and fact-check with my younger sisters when we are together. Problem is, neither of them remember what I’m talking about (I am the oldest) or they remember it completely differently. So either, I have a strong sense of poetic license running down my spine, or, I’m remembering it as a literary vehicle. Either way, usually makes for great story telling.

        Thanks again. This was great.

      • I like the way you put that, Mary. That strong sense of poetic license running down your spine. I think all writers must have that, at least prose/fiction/memoir writers. Great story telling is what we’re after. Good for you.

    • Hi Mary,

      I just wrote mine (I beat you in the age dept but we won’t tell) and found that once I started it just came in – except for the name of that stupid river. Had to call my aunt on that one. The thing is to relax completely and don’t worry about stuff, take your notebook to a café and write about an event. Just keep writing til the carafe of decaf is gone (about four little café cups) and left brain gets bored and shuts up. Milk the past. Bleed it. It’ll come. Trust me.

      Photos don’t lie. Use em.

      Cheers!

      • Thanks, Linda. I wont tell if you dont. Cafe writing is my fave, where I can people watch when my mind starts to wander.

        Mary

  5. I worry that my memories not only have gaping holes, but might be faulty. Although I’m writing about a specific time in adult life, based on a recent experience with a childhood friend I’m concerned that my recollections aren’t reliable.

    On a trip home to Australia in June, I reconnected with a school friend I hadn’t seen since we were 14 years old when we ran away together from convent boarding school. When we compared the memories of that watershed moment, I did not remember that she was the impetus for the escape. I assumed it was me, because I had run away before. I also didn’t recall a ferry ride we took during our escapade, although in other respects I was able to refresh her memory.

    Just saying, “I remember…” would definitely prompt the event, but beyond that, how do you pull those buried memories to the surface? How do you know when you have a full or accurate picture? Is it important?

    • Hi Deborah, thanks for your thoughts about memory and what is real and what we made up. It’s so true that our memories are “facts,” but impressions, often taken in from an emotional perspective, and subject to change each time we relive/retell the memory. We overwrite the original with the newest version and that newest version is often overlaid with additional or different details. As I’ve committed my self to studying the memoir form, I’ve read a number of books and studies about memory. Fascinating stuff (of course I can’t remember half of what I’ve learned! ha!)

      I’ve experienced the same as you regarding details differing based on whose perspective. My sister and I have this happen all the time regarding stories from our shared childhood. We’re not the only ones, of course. I’ve heard about and read the same experience by any number of writers and others. We remember details based on our own emotional perspective of the event. Regarding your story about you and a friend running away from convent boarding school… just because your friend’s memory is different than yours doesn’t mean hers is any more “true” than yours. You have one memory; she another. The “fact” of the story is that the two of you ran away together.

      In writing, especially in writing the memoir, it’s not necessarily the “facts” of the event, but the emotional truth of the event, and how it affected you then and how it affected who you are today. The more sensory details you can bring to the surface, the more “real” and complete the memory will be. Sometimes it is the sensory details that will put us in a place, and bring it to life for us again. Often it is a sensory experience in the present that opens to a memory of the past. (the so-called “Proust effect.”) What is important is bringing the memory as fully and completely to the surface as possible and relating the “true” emotional content of the event. In doing that a writer may discover why that particular memory is important, why it matters.

      Hope this helps. Let’s just keep on writing.

      • Your response is incredibly helpful, both validating and motivating. I feel as if I was just immersed in a mini “Judy Reeves” memoir course!

        Thanks so much for your generosity.

  6. Hi Judy,

    The prompt works inasmuch as it opens floodgates when memories want to rush in all at once. Right brain needs a bit of assurance shall we say, from left brain’s guiding order. Or perhaps that’s just my need for parameters but then I can’t plan an afternoon without that either.

    It’s fun to assimilate memory into present reality, before those echoes were echoes and the whispers of the past were real.

    Thanks Judy for all you do.

    • Yes, Linda, “before those echoes were echoes and the whispers of the past were real.” I like the directed “I remember…” rather than the more open one, especially when I’m working on a specific project, scene, chapter, etc. I use it with sensory details, too so I can grab those from the depths of memory.

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