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Significant Memories
This entry was posted on 10/6/2007 2:12 PM and is filed under Generally Speaking.
Still pondering the idea of writing a book, I look for expert advice, and what I find goes beyond my immediate quest.
Susan Rabiner's book*, written as an instruction for prospective authors of serious nonfiction, poses this question: why is your work important? In her view there must be an "argument" presented, not simply the reporting of research conclusions, or a story told.
If the question she poses cannot readily be answered, she urges the writer to recall events of their youth that forecast the adult, memories of those times that ignited the passion for what is being written about now. Recapturing those memories, Rabiner proposes, will define what motivates you today, provide the "argument" for writing the book.
And, I wonder, for life? If important transitions are ahead, from one role to another, a new job, retirement, a book, what direction makes sense? I asked a friend what childhood memories pointed to his future outcomes. This was his answer: "My parents always stressed that I must do the right, the just thing. If ever given too much change by a merchant, no question, it must be returned. Trying to recall a specific memory takes me back to the fifth grade. A girl in my class, somewhat an outsider, was accused by the teacher of some bad act that I knew she had not committed. With self-righteousness only a fifth grader could muster, I approached the teacher's desk and asked, 'Miss Jones, do you believe in the ten commandments?' She said that of course she did, so I went on, 'Do you know the one about not bearing false witness?' That night I told my mother about the encounter. She was mortified, and promptly called the teacher to offer an apology for my behavior.'Oh, but he was absolutely right,' was the teacher's surprising response. The story became a family classic." The player in this drama, a man now in his early sixties, grew up in a small town, was a leader and excelled in school. As we talked, he was able to bring forth more early memories of encouraging others, and himself, to do the "right thing", to meet his need for justice. After college he entered a major urban law school and on graduation, was hired by a prestigious firm. Assigned work crafting and closing on contracts for corporate mergers and acquisitions, he found he had neither enthusiasm nor belief in his competence for these tasks. When a senior partner proposed he take on a firm pro bono project, helping with the organization of an inner-city heath clinic, he eagerly accepted and was immediately fully engaged with the people, doctors and nurses, and their mission.
Soon after, he left the lucrative law firm job. For many of the years that followed, he worked to develop programs providing legal representation for the disadvantaged, giving voice to his zeal for righting wrongs. I'm learning about myself in posing this question to my friends. As they bring to mind how certain early events shaped their essence, their destinations, I do so as well. I'd never before thought of using important memories in this way, to analyze the "argument" for what is being written, to inform the future.
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*Thinking Like Your Editor: How to write great serious non-fiction
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