What Does Your Mother Think of Your Writing? Does It Matter?

A Year of Writing Dangerously by Barbara Abercrombie

Today’s post features an item excerpted from A Year of Writing Dangerously: 365 Days of Inspiration & Encouragement (New World Library, 2012) by Barbara Abercrombie. Barbara has published 14 books and numerous essays and articles, and has taught creative writing courses for almost three decades. She lives in Santa Monica, California. Find out more at her website.


When I have guest speakers in my class who have written memoirs, one of the first things my students ask is, “What did your mother say when she read it?”

But what about mothers writing about their children? My kids have some pretty amazing material, but that’s one privacy line I won’t cross in my writing. I’ll write about them—the funny stuff—but I won’t steal the heavy moments in their lives.

Though just recently, as I was discussing this with a daughter, she said in a dark tone, “Remember writing about the Snickers bars under Gillan’s bed?” I asked her what on earth she was talking about. “You wrote a poem about her messy bedroom,” she said, “and then read it to her class.”

The thing about being a writer is that you just learn to live with your guilt.

I never once encountered a student who didn’t worry, at some level, that a friend or family member was going to be violated, punished or crucified in a piece of writing. (Mothers take an exceptionally heavy rap with younger students.) … And it often afflicted young writers with classic writer’s block before they’d written so much as a single word.

—Carol Shields


From Jane: I’ll never forget the following Twitter status update from Anne Lamott:

You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should’ve behaved better.

What do you think about this issue? Share your thoughts and experiences in the comments. And read more from A Year of Writing Dangerously over at Amazon.

 

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WendyPaineMiller

Can’t wait to get this book!
In regards to this topic I believe this is reason #106 why I write fiction. Able to sneak in all kinds of goodies. 😉

Darrelyn Saloom

In her youth, my mother was wild and straightforward and is one of my favorite subjects. She reads everything I write about her and has no problem with the truth as long as it comes from a place of love. And it does. She’s my best friend and toughest critic. Her feedback is valuable to me because she is an insatiable reader and has no problem telling me when I’ve veered off track.

Sam

She reads most of the stuff I write, some of it she enjoys, some of it she says it’s “too dark” or depressing. She says dialogue is my forte, though.

Khara House

My mother loved my writing, but she could always tell when I was “secretly” writing about her. Honestly, I usually either edited out “familiar moments” within my writing before showing it to family or just didn’t show it to my parents. I still create “clean versions” of my fiction to share with many people I know. I’ve always been encouraged, particularly by my parents, that writers have a responsibility to be honest in their work, even if it’s not clean or pretty … but I’ve also always known this to be a fractional truth, that there were and are some things my parents couldn’t, or wouldn’t want to, know, and I’ve worked hard (perhaps harder than I should) to keep it from them.

lmmckay

My mother adored my novel. Five years after it came out she’s still trying to sell it to everyone she meets. My recently released memoir, Love At The Speed Of Email, she’s a bit more dubious about. Possibly because I poked fun at her throughout.

Mum sighed over the long-distance line.

“I knew you should have done organizational
psychology,” she said.

“Mum,”
I said. “Organizational psychology is boring.”

“It’s not
boring,” she said in a familiar refrain. “It’s what I would have done if I’d
studied psychology.”

“And you would have been very good at it,” I
said, “seeing as how you’re naturally equipped for the post of benevolent
dictator of a small country. But I am not you, and I think it’s boring.”

“You think everything not extreme, dark, or
dangerous is boring,” my mother replied calmly. “I don’t understand where you got that from. Certainly not
from your father or me.”

“I could
just get a job in Australia,” I
said, playing my trump card. “Probably the only ones left in my field now are
back in maximum security or in the sex offenders unit. Or maybe I can stay with
the police.”

All jokes aside – it does matter what my parents think. I let them see my memoir before it went to print and asked for their thoughts and concerns. I didn’t give them veto rights, but I didn’t want them to be surprised, either. I did the same thing with every other major character.

James Finn Garner

My mother doesn’t really understand a thing I write, but she is incredibly proud of it. People often ask me where I got my sense of humor from, suspecting it’s the Irish side, but I have to say, “Definitely not my mother.”

ChilledScribbler

This is an area I’m thinking about a lot at the moment ~ I’m writing a fiction novel based on some facts from my life and I just know my mother will have an opinion on it which will be negative. It’s not my intention to distress or disturb her, far from it, but there’s no doubt an element in my story-telling which will affect her which, in turn, is starting to really affect the way I am telling the story: I can either write it the way it needs to be written for her, or for me ~ there’s no compromise between the two. This post, along with the quote above from Anne Lamott, has come at just the right time to help me tackle the hurdle this ‘mother-issue’ is creating for me. Thank you

MB Abroad

My mom loves everything I write and is convinced that it is only a matter of time before I am a publishing sensation. Do writers on book tours have groupies? Because that will be happening…

Jim Hamlett

Will the revelation of someone else’s secret (or fact known only to you and a few others) cause unnecessary harm? Each author has to answer that question when writing about others, and be willing to deal with the consequences. Truman Capote took a few liberties that cost him some friends.

Ava Zavaleta

I constantly worry about this as well. I come from a big extended family that is pretty close-knit. Out of everyone in the family, I’m the only one with a passion for reading and writing. Everyone in my family knows I write but have never asked to read my work and I don’t think I’d share it with them even if they did. I’m definitely inspired by some of the crazy antics and drama my family creates but I always tend to distance my writing from those emotions and secrets. I did consider writing a fictional story based on my life, but was afraid it would garner too many hurt feelings.

Dave Malone

Hi Ava,
I think you really have to follow your instincts, which it sounds like you’re doing well. If your family has a genuine loving interest in your writing, then I’d be tempted to share. And of course, the less combative the material, the easier it will be to start doing that.
For what it’s worth…I have a novel in the drawer (20 years now), which I’ve been reticent to complete because of the hurt it might cause my family. But. Like I said in my comment, I believe there comes a time when it can be okay to do that–and the persons mentioned can grow from it. I long took the advice of Jack Driscoll, a writer I met when I was in undergrad, who said he shared none of his writing with his parents. I remember being very shocked by this. Then, I understood and did the same for about 20 years. But ultimately, I love my parents dearly and want to share my writing with them, which I’ve been doing with my plays and some poetry–and if they can’t handle it, tough. (Which apparently is the case!). But I’m okay with that. Don’t know if that helps. 🙂

Dee DeTarsio

Hola, Dave! You need to dig that novel out! In my (totally unscientific) poll, 99% of readers do NOT recognize themselves!

Dave Malone

Aloha, Dee. Hm. If I do some digging, I may have to change my protagonist’s name whose initials are NOT my own. 🙂