The Writer's Life: Thoughts on the Art of Writing Creative Non-Fiction

 

 

Creative non-fiction sits in an interesting place in the world of writing. It lives somewhere between not quite being journalism and also not quite being memoir. Complicating matters further, it’s also not quite storytelling in the traditional fictional sense. Yet it borrows something from all three.

I’m attracted to creative non-fiction because it allows me to write about subjects normally found in books written by academics with letters after their name. My writing often touches on historical events or the way life was in the past. It’s a lived experience, why not write about it?

Adding the personal touch moves the story away from something that looks like writing from a text book. The writing becomes a personal account, with real-life history as the backdrop. The events and the people involved are real. The emotions and experiences come from life as it was lived.

At its heart, creative non-fiction writing is about telling true stories using the techniques of good storytelling. But the writer looks to shape the story with care, using a narrative structure to make the story engaging and meaningful for the reader.

It can be one of the most personal forms of writing.

Unlike fiction, where characters and situations are typically invented, creative non-fiction requires the writer to work with reality. Memory becomes an important source of material, as do personal observations. Everyday experiences, and the moments that may have seemed insignificant at the time, can reveal something deeper when revisited.

There is something to be said for the quality of how ordinary life can be. Putting it into words in a story that means something is the difficult bit. It could be anything. A walk through an unfamiliar neighbourhood, a childhood memory, or even a conversation overheard on the bus. All of these might seem ordinary at the time but can become the foundation of a piece of creative non-fiction.

One story can, and I find frequently does, lead to another. They are stories within stories. It is essential that good creative non-fiction does more than simply recount events.

When I was at school, writing about historical events was presented in order, one after another. I think it was called ‘learning by rota’. It refers to a type of learning through repetition and often involves memorisation of dates and facts.

The Writer's Life: The Writer As An Observer of Life - A Hospital Visit

 

A writer rarely enters a room without quietly taking notes. Not with pen and paper; that would be too obvious, but with something far more instinctive. I find myself observing what is going on around me, and the potential for a story forms in my mind.

A writer notices the way a conversation develops or stalls, the glance that lingers too long, and the sigh that says more than words ever could. The looks on the faces of everyone in the room, friendly or grumpy, hostile even, every room has its own look and character.

I was in one such room last Friday, when I had to pay a visit to a local hospital. A hospital waiting room is not a place where most people would want to be. Uncertainty about our health takes most of us there, unless you were in support or there to assist someone.

The hospital was busy; they always are, but the first thing I had to do was find the waiting room. Report to Ward 34, I was told by my local surgery. I diligently wrote down the details, including a long abbreviation that must have been code for something. It was the only writing that I had done for a few days.

Ward 34? I began to wonder about all the other wards (33 of them), and then how many more there were after 34. The hospital was a big place. I arrived at the main reception, where I noticed someone, who looked like he might be a volunteer, advising others on where to go.

“Do you know where you need to go to?” He asked.

“Ward 36.” I replied, without realising that I had given the wrong number.

“I’ll take you to the lift. From there you go to the second floor and turn left, and the waiting room for Ward 36 is at the end of the corridor.”

The Writer's Life: When Illness Strikes - The Art and Fear of Being a Writer

 

I recently caught a winter cold, which turned into an infection,  or it came with it, just before Christmas. It was just a cold, or so I thought.

The common cold had taken a backseat in recent times, as COVID-19 got all the headlines. But it has been around a long time; there are about two hundred strains of it. It was just waiting its turn, or a new strain was around. Old or new, I got it from somewhere.

And it was a lingering cold.

A continuous cough is not just something that comes with COVID-19; mine from this simple cold lasted three weeks, and I’m still not over it. The cough pounds away at the rib cage — it’s like going ten rounds with Mike Tyson at his peak.

It all meant that I struggled to write. That’s the way it is when I’m ill. I might have good intentions, that having all that time,  I will write. In reality, that doesn’t happen. Being ill drains any desire to do anything, other than to get over it.

You eat a meal without tasting a bite. You read a message twice and still don’t absorb it. Watch a YouTube video, without taking it in. Somewhere along the way, you forget to write. The hours drag on.

And this is where writing lives.

To be a writer is to exist half a step removed from the world, constantly translating experience into language in a way that, hopefully, someone will like and understand. The writer is always watching, listening, and storing fragments away in the mind for future use. Even in moments of rest, or illness, thoughts are working, shaping sentences, rehearsing conversations, rewriting endings that never happened.

This is the art of it.

The Writer's Life: We all Need a Happy Place

Do you have a happy place? A place you can go to where you feel better just by being there?

I found a happy place, and it was on my doorstep.

Just a few minutes walk from my home, there is a wildlife park. It is a large park with artificial lakes, and I frequently take walks there. Walking in the park has become part of my regular exercise routine. It also helps to clear the mind.

The park is a place where I go to escape the real world.

Back to nature.

I find that early morning is the best time to go, before the rest of the world wakes up. Apart from the occasional dog walker, it often feels like I am the only person in the park. That suits me fine, as there is a silence early in the morning that I haven’t noticed at any other time. That might just be me, but most of the time the only noise comes from the birds.

I’ve also walked through the park at night, early evening, mainly because it is a shortcut to another area of the city where there is a shopping centre. In winter, to say that it is dark at that time would be an understatement. While the lights of the city can be seen in the distance, the park is in total darkness. A torch is an absolute necessity. Despite the darkness, I have never felt unsafe, but it can be a spooky adventure!

But there are other benefits.

The Writer's Life: The Fine Art of Procrastination...

I don't think I can be bothered to write about this.

Maybe.

No.

It's not the right time.

So, here's a nice picture instead.