Writing

Do You Need to Like a Main Character?

/ Susan Örnbratt / Leave a comment

I recently read an article on whether it’s necessary or even helpful to like a main character. Helpful to what end? Finishing the book, I suppose. The writer didn’t feel a particular need to like main characters. I suppose it can be rather engaging to love to hate a certain main character if he or she is written well. For me, the feeling is quite different. It’s one I wanted to share with you.

I’ve always had a tendency to put down a book and not pick it up for ages, saying to myself that I’ll return to those pages when I get the time. But what is it, what is the key to those books that lure me back? I can only speak for myself, but I suspect that I’m not the only reader who needs to feel connected in order to be drawn back into a story once I’ve put it down.

I completed a novel a few years ago that sits in its pool of misery somewhere deep in my computer, having been fully read by only two people – me and my husband. Why? The writing is fine, even compelling at times. When I asked my sister to read the manuscript, she happily agreed until she got a glimpse of my main character, uncomfortably resembling someone she knew well. It felt too real to her. The pages became heavier to turn to the point of immobility.

The answer to my question was one I think I knew all along. Something drove me to write that character in such a way. Once completed, I had to ask myself why it didn’t actually feel good to write her. What was it about her personality? Was she strong? Yes, but not in the way that sits comfortably with me. A strong woman is not one who shuts out reality but faces it head-on, bulldozing through the ugly bits of life while delicately crafting a positive attitude that feels good to her and the reader. As writers, we all know how invested we become in our characters and how real they become to us, with personalities that linger well beyond our writing day. Our characters become our company in many respects and we want to feel good being around them. At least I do.

It’s perfectly welcomed and often times necessary to have a selection of characters that get your blood boiling, but for the main character, I want that person to make me feel good. I want to get to know that person better, not necessarily become friends, but become more acquainted with what makes that person tick, what motivates him/her, what touches his/her inner core?

It was a hard lesson to learn, writing a whole novel only to learn how desperately I need to like my main character. I often ask myself why it took me a whole manuscript to learn such a lesson as a writer, when as a reader I’ve always known that’s what I needed. I’ve concluded that it needed to be a hard lesson, a lesson ground in late night and early morning writing, crafting of plot and subplots that weave around my character and how she reacts to events. It needed to be this way, so that I would do exactly the opposite in my next book.

I see now, that it was my non-likable character that stripped my writing of the energy needed for a story to feel alive and powerful and beautiful. As a writer, I need to feel an intimate connection with my main character, a connection that makes me feel good to the bone. I want to laugh with her, and hurt with her. I want to love with her and get annoyed with her. Quite simply, I can only do that if I like her. So I wrote my next novel with a main character who swallowed up my days and who has lingered beautifully on my mind ever since. I still find I want to know her even better and travel with her through more life experiences. She makes me feel good and I like to be around her, The Particular Appeal of Gillian Pugsley – a friend for life.

Bedtime storytelling is to writing what walking is to running – Don’t underestimate its value.

/ Susan Örnbratt / 2 Comments

I’ve just returned from a lovely morning walk in the forest and neighbourhood, feeling guilty at first that I had decided to walk instead of jog. To compromise, I walked briskly while admiring the vitsippor (white wildflowers – not sure what they are called in English) waving to me from the forest floor. It is a sight that year after year, conjures up instant stories in my head. Sometimes I see trolls lurking behind large rocks, leprechauns tripping themselves among low ferns, Vikings sword fighting or 19th century lovers embracing before they run away together – their horses waiting just behind a tree in the distance.

The forest and its myriad of stories just waiting to be discovered, hint to times when my children were tucked in bed eagerly awaiting their new story – a story crafted just for them from the forest of their bedroom. Books were fine, they’d say, but mom’s stories came into the world just for them. I always asked them to choose a topic, setting, and one or two characters. I’ll never forget my daughter’s choice of being different (topic), rainbows (setting) and parrot (character). To this day it remains one of her favourite bedtime story memories.

Sometimes, when the stories felt extra special, made up as I went along, I would leave her as she fell into a deep slumber then go to my computer and write them down or jot notes to myself so I wouldn’t forget the fun bits. The parrot story became a rhyming children’s story, Through the Rainbow, Baltazar! with an important message for children to be proud of who they are no matter what colour or how different they might be to others.

When I had injured my knee several years ago and found jogging to be a struggle, a friend of my husband’s said, “Never underestimate the value of walking”. He was right. Walking gets you moving, your heart pumping, you feel good doing it and you never, ever regret it. I can say the same for storytelling. It gets your imagination moving, your heart pumping with excitement and creativity, you feel good making it up as you go along and seeing the wonder in your child’s eyes and you never, ever regret doing it. There is nothing like the feeling of sending your child into dreamland with a sack full of inspiration. Try it! I promise you will feel like a star parent!

The beauty of bedtime storytelling is that its rewards are plentiful. Whether you are a writer or not, it will jog your imagination, curiosity, make you more productive and creative at work. I am sure of it. You will be more open to new concepts and ideas. Just look around you. Inspiration is everywhere. When my daughter would give me a character and I couldn’t think what to do with that character, all I would need to do was let my eyes travel her bedroom for inspiration; a shadow on the wall, a stuffed animal on a shelf, clothes strewn across the floor, too lazy to work themselves into the laundry hamper. There is never a shortage of inspiration – you just have to look for it.

So when I was walking back to my house this morning, and I realized that I had started my walk cold to the bone, yet I had become toasty warm, it didn’t matter that a gorgeous, blond Swede, twice my height ran past me in her sleek running gear. I had worked up a little body heat of my own, thank you very much. My heart was pumping, I had thought of the perfect title for this blog post, irritated to no end that I had left my mobile phone at home and was forced to recite the title 50 times so I wouldn’t forget it. But nonetheless, I felt good. I felt inspired. I felt like writing.

So go for a walk, you don’t need to run, but it might lead you to run one day. Tell a bedtime story, you don’t need to write it down, but it might turn into a novel one day.

Image source

9 Quirky Moments that have Inspired My Writing

/ Susan Örnbratt / 4 Comments

 IMG_1552[2]Öckerö

1. The Naked Cowboy in Times Square playing his guitar on my first trip to NYC.

Anyone that confident can drive me to test my own limits – in my writing, thank you very much.

2. The sea lion that kept following me along the Isle of Man’s shoreline last summer.

Its curiosity and downright cuteness reminded me that everything has a different perspective and to keep testing those POV’s until I get it right.

3. The moose in my garden grunting only two meters behind me when it occurred to my husband to tell me that she was there in the first place.

Nothing will light a fire under you like an enormous wild animal on your doorstep. Now I have the power to write exactly what it feels like, sounds like and smells like to be nose to nose with the “Queen” of the Forest.

4. When I unexpectedly met children’s author Suzanne Tate for the first time and she said there was one book that I just had to read. It was already sitting on the front seat of my car on that same trip!

Are there really coincidences? I think not. Jessica Brockmole’s Letters from Skye brought two writers together that day, enabling me to weave with even greater conviction fluky circumstances into my own stories.

5. The stoplights when I was caught singing in full, theatrical motion by the driver and passenger of a neighbouring car.  

A little humiliation from time to time does a writer good. Keeps us grounded. Best part was not stopping when they saw me. That’s what made them laugh! So that’s how I can make my readers laugh – be honest in my writing and open and free and spirited and the “fabulousness” in my words will shine through.

6. When an old Italian farmer clip-clopped up to me on his donkey under the Sicilian summer sun and began a full-out conversation with me in Italian – and I didn’t speak a word of it.

No matter who you are, where you’re from or what language you speak, you will always find a way to communicate. It was the perfect opportunity for the writer in me to observe hand gestures, facial expressions and even breathing – to become completely absorbed in our “conversation”, which I’m sure to the onlooker would have appeared ridiculous. It is a 20 or so minute moment I will always treasure.

7. When I looked into the eyes of the woman who had been sitting outside our local shop with a tin cup next to her, having passed her many times before.

It was humbling – that moment. It was revealing, yet secretive. It was a bucket of emotions all twisted tightly yet let loose. It was an odd sensation as though I was reading a story that wanted to be told but wasn’t. It reminded me that stories can be deeply rooted and to tread respectfully down the writing path. Everyone has a story to tell and I better darned well be authentic in voicing mine.

8. Florida’s sky on the Gulf of Mexico and its magical cloud formations.

Anything that can whisk me away like that to Never-Never Land will show up soon in my writing. Look for the cloud formation in Gillian Puglsey and how it takes my characters to another place.

9. Singing, dancing, posing, walking, thinking and staring out to sea on the rocky shoreline of my adopted home – the west coast of Sweden.

A bundle of quirky moments that time and time again teach me that I am just one person in this big world for only a drop in time – but a person with a big imagination and something to share – my stories. The sea reminds me that, like all writers, we are just trying to make it, to do our best, to tell a story that will resonate with someone and take them to another place. Most of all, the sea brings me peace and makes everything clear again. It’s a place that I feel like a child again wanting to discover, with a hope that that same feeling translates into my writing.

What are 9 quirky moments that have inspired your writing?

 

10 Things About My Writing

/ Susan Örnbratt / 2 Comments

I was recently tagged and challenged by fellow writer, Elizabeth Hein to write 7 things about my writing on Facebook. It was fun to read her list and I like the idea of sharing such tidbits. In that list alone, I felt as though I got to know a personal side of her. When I had written my seven, I realized that I could probably write another seven, and another seven after that. Instead, I’ve decided to list ten things about my writing here (no special order):

1. My best and most creative writing time is between 5:00-8:00 a.m.

2. I have written the beginning of two new novels since the autumn and cannot decide which I want to drive forward most. At the same time, my second novel is begging for a re-write.

3. I never know how a story will end until I get there.

4. Lately, all the social media focus on my part has affected my writing time and concentration – the excitement of a debut coming out and all. Sometimes I want to toss away all the technology and live like the old days. Wouldn’t you love to jump back in time for a day or two, or a week if you’re up to it? I’d go back to the early 20th century.

5. I am a note girl. I write notes to myself with new words and expressions and leave them EVERYWHERE. They are in every nook and cranny in this house I think, yet I am baffled when I can’t find the ones I’m looking for.

6. The sun is one of my greatest motivators. It makes me feel good to the bone, and when I feel good to the bone, the creative juices flow more easily.

7. I edit as I write. I can spend far too long on trying to perfect that one sentence instead of moving on. But I get irritated if it isn’t just right.  I rather enjoyed the editing process with my editor on Gillian Pugsley – no really! She was great and I think we were very much on the same wavelength.

8. I need tea when I write, lots and lots of tea.

9. My family, my brother-in-law, my sister, all those who know me well, laugh when I get praise in reviews for my quirky expressions in my writing, because they know that’s how I really talk in real life, and it drives them bananas.

10. I adore a beautifully crafted sentence, especially those simple ones that stand out from the crowd, e.g. “As the days leaned into August…” in Secrets of a Charmed Life by Susan Meissner. That’s only part of her sentence, but it swept me away with that one word leaned. – Whether mine or someone else’s creation, “It makes my heels click”.

What are 10 things you’d like to share about your writing?

Thick Skin to Publication

/ Susan Örnbratt / Leave a comment

A close friend has said to me on a number of occasions over the past year that most people would never know what goes into publishing a book. She thought, and rightly so, that a writer writes a book, picks a publisher, and finds it on the bookstore shelves weeks, maybe months later. She often seemed bewildered when I’d say that my editor had sent the manuscript back to me for changes, again and again and again and yet, again. “How rude,” she thought. “Whose story is it anyway?” “And why on earth do you need to do all this social media kerfuffle?” What would I do without my devoted friend? She, like me, has come to realize over the past year what a twisty, uphill road it is to publication. And my road has been many years long, like most writers, dotted with other painstaking, joyous works and a whole mountain of rejections.

An incredible learning experience, having my debut novel published has taught me about patience in an industry that is tearing at the seams with new books every day. It has taught me about patience in seeing the process through correctly and patience in developing the best possible product with my best possible writing. Editing is huge and cannot be rushed. It means months and months of changes, re-writes and tweaking until it feels right – until it is right – the most polished product possible.

For the first time in my life, my writing is being reviewed by people other than my teachers or employers. I have a healthy stash of stoic Scottish blood in me, so I am neither disillusioned nor dispirited and feel perfectly strong to face criticism. However picked apart my novel might become, the one hope that stays true to my heart, is that my actual writing will be seen as good writing. I have worked hard to improve my writing. Every day, keeping an oxymoron alive by lovingly slaving over my craft, certainly to no financial reward as of yet and sometimes to only one pair of eyes. Writers write – it’s what we do. It isn’t easy. It isn’t for the faint-hearted. We feel vulnerable when handing our babies over – dare I say to be judged. Thick skin is a must.

On the other hand, when someone notices your writing, a story you’ve crafted from your heart as much as your mind, it is pure joy to see it go through the publishing process. It makes me think of a watchmaker with a fine pair of tweezers carefully riveting the inner workings together or driving components apart – a jewelling set to fit everything into place.

I’m grateful for such a process.

Moaning Milly and the Dreaded Flu

/ Susan Örnbratt / Leave a comment

For three weeks, I’ve been on the outside looking in. Yes, trapped behind this glass wall called infectious disease. While the world has scuttled about taking care of business, writing award-winning books, earning salaries and socializing to the max, I have been Moaning Milly with a cough that rattles the Earth. The next time you feel a tremor, California or Japan, don’t worry it’s only me here in Sweden!

During this time of airborne rascals attacking the general population here in Scandinavia, I have been living in a construction zone while our fireplace has been constructed. The poor creature building it fell prey to my bug after only three days on the job and lay home ill with fever for seven days following. How should I have known how electric my bug was? If I weren’t against the little critter, I’d almost say I was impressed. I stayed cocooned on the other side of the house for goodness sake. But alas, even a hardy worker couldn’t stand up to it.

Honestly, what is a writer to do in such physical distress? I’ve pretended to shuffle about my keyboard, trying to convince myself that I can still be sick and busy – that my brain can function as it always does. I’d even hoped that any delirium I’ve had would spiral into something magical on the screen in front of me – the next bestseller! “Hogwash!” Yes, I’m sounding like my grandmother now, though I know she would have secretly agreed with me. I’m quite sure that in a fit of distress, she must have churned one or two poems into a nightingale. I can almost hear one singing to me now.

In any case, I’m on the mend now and the sun has shone all week – a miracle here on the west coast. When I see the sun, when I feel its warmth, my silly little bug seems to sail away for good. Never thought I’d be quoting my own work, but in this case it seems appropriate. As Gillian Pugsley says about Gilbert Brody, “He should be well thankful for a little castor oil instead of moaning about how it slid down like a land slug.” Right – cheers medicine! I’m much better now, thank you very much.

So to all those nasty bugs out there, I say good riddance. This lingering cough will die down and my computer screen will light up again with magic. It has to – I refuse to go and buy a new one.

To leave you with a fine example of someone who has been taking care of business and writing award-winning books while Moaning Milly has been at work, check out We Are All Made of Molecules by Susin Nielsen. Susin is a former high school classmate, and has spent the past week in London, Paris and Brussels signing books and rubbing elbows with the right people.  I’m very excited for her.

A final Saturday morning thought. Isn’t it wonderful that even a rotten bug still makes you want to write?

18 Reasons to Follow Your Dreams

/ Susan Örnbratt / Leave a comment
  1. Your day job is seriously getting in the way.

When your dream becomes so important to you and you are frustrated that you cannot devote more time to it, you need to ask yourself what place that dream has in your life. If your day job drains you of all energy that you have nothing left to give at the end of the day, then there is something wrong. If what you love to do most is suffering at the hands of that job and you feel forced to make a choice, doesn’t your dream have an equal right on the scales?

  1. You begin to realize, why not me?

It’s easy to believe we are not worthy of the kind of success that others may have. It seems surreal. Yet when you put it all into perspective and view your dream as a series of steps and challenges, then formulate a plan, you realize that it is attainable. At least the possibility is there. The key is to change the word from “dream” to “goal”. It’s hard work. You just have to decide if you are willing to do what it takes. In my case, that has meant years of writing, many rejections, but picking myself up and doing it again and again. What’s the expression? “Success is when preparation meets opportunity”.

  1. You realize that making the decision is the hardest part.

Oh, the joy in finally making a decision! Once you’ve made it, you will see that the hurdles lined up in front of you are simply challenges that need to be addressed one at a time. This was exactly the case before my family left for a three-year expat experience in the United States. The “what if’s” were strangling. Once we made the decision, we took each task as it came and got through it. In the end, it was an amazing family adventure that we will never regret.

  1. You’ll find courage inside that you didn’t know existed.

Fear can be a powerful emotion, but ask yourself if you want to get to the end of your life not knowing if you could have done it. Failure after trying your best is never failure to me. It is gratefully a learning experience, a stumbling block at most. If you want something badly enough, you will make it happen.

  1. You will finally be doing what makes you happy, not what others expect of you.

It’s your life. You have one opportunity to live on this Earth. Why shouldn’t you make it the best experience possible? Why shouldn’t you do what makes you happy?

  1. You’ll prove to yourself that it’s okay for dreams to change.

Who said that we are programmed to have only one career our entire adult life? We are constantly evolving as individuals. Think of that first boyfriend/girlfriend you had all those years ago. You are a different person today. You probably wouldn’t even glance their way now. Why should we not change professionally? Being a writer is one of my three professional dreams that I have had in my life. Would anyone out there know for a second that I desperately wanted to become an architect at one time? I spent half my childhood drawing floor plans for houses and office buildings. I had a need to use my creativity then and channeled that energy into story writing in my twenties. A stable career in teaching won over, but the drive to write has never been stronger than it is now. It’s more than okay for dreams to change – it makes us richer as individuals.

  1. You will find that you are capable of things you never thought possible.

When you follow your dream and hone your skills, you will surprise yourself time and time again. The more I read and write, the stronger I become as a writer. After I had written a number of children’s books, my dream was to write a novel. Did I think it was possible? Not when I was younger. When I realized that I could not only complete a novel, it meant that it was possible to write a second and a third. Was it then possible to get published? With each dream, you can build on it a little bit more making it grow into something truly beautiful.

  1. You will wake up eager to work.

Need I say more?

  1. A smile will creep into your face, surprising you every time.

I’ve had many moments since the offer of publication of my book where I am driving my car and that one song comes through the speakers that makes me gush with tears of joy. I left a meeting recently for my book launch securing a venue that I didn’t think was possible. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face as I walked down the street. You will also feel that joy because you won’t believe you are really doing it. You are not only following your dream but you have made someone sit up and notice your passion.

  1. Even if your decision disappoints someone, there will be many more who will be inspired by your choice.

Sometimes the easy route to take is the one expected of us. It is hard knowing that you may disappoint someone close to you, but it is far worse not honouring your dreams and what you love to do most. You will be surprised how time will allow those whom you have disappointed or perhaps stunned, adjust to this new you. They will grow to appreciate and admire your strength. Meanwhile, you have a following of others who have been inspired by your decision, some of whom will take action and follow their dreams.

  1. Not a businesswoman-bone in your body? Think again. You will be surprised at what you will learn in supporting and promoting your dream.

When you are passionate about your dream, lack of knowledge about the industry will not stand in your way. You do what is necessary to make it happen. You research. You meet people who do know about the industry. You learn whatever you can from them. You research more. You attend conferences. You put your shy or uncomfortable side away for the time being and take the bull by the horns. Some idioms are a pleasure to use! You walk straight up to that famous author or that well-known agent and ask what they can do for you. You’ll be surprised what fabulous advice you can get. I’ve done it and I take every single word and learn from it.

  1. Everything you do will feel better.

The food you eat will taste better, the sun will shine brighter, colours will take on a whole new meaning – even your stride will feel lighter.

  1. You will feel greater joy in the little things.

When you are comforted in knowing that your dream is not just alive, but is working hard for you as much as you are working hard for it, you feel a sense of relief and freedom to appreciate things you may have overlooked in the past. When I used to go for walks, my mind would be churning with the stress of all my responsibilities, but now I’m much more able to let it all go and find the small moments during my walks that bring big inspiration. I’ll never forget watching a single droplet of water on a twig that hung for dear life, and conjuring up one of the most beautiful sentences I had ever written.

  1. You will begin to look at things with a different perspective.

People will begin to look different, more interesting. You will likely judge less and accept more at face value. Yet on the same token, there will be a curiosity, perhaps even more so for writers, to look deeper, wonder what’s behind that face. You will realize that everyone has a story to tell.

  1. People will enjoy your company more.

Who doesn’t like to be around a positive, relaxed person? I’ve been known to get myself all wired up – no denial there – but there’s a colossal difference between being with someone who is negatively wired than being with someone who is excited and exuberant about his or her work. It just feels good.

  1. It will feel great to be with yourself.

Most of us know the weight of unhappiness and stress, but when you make your dreams attainable goals and follow through consistently, you begin to look at yourself differently. You feel positive and accomplished in reaching even the tiniest goal. For me, that might be conquering the toughest sentence to construct in my writing or finding that perfect word to describe a feeling. That can be enough to make me walk away on a high for the rest of the day, while patting myself on the back.

  1. Your happiness will be contagious.

Just like the feeling of walking past someone on the street – those who smile at you make you feel good, those who ignore your existence make you grumble inside. Your attitude and fulfillment will show in your expression. It will lessen the aging lines on your face and make your eyes brighter. Don’t you love that feeling when you cannot stop laughing, so much so that others begin to laugh and they don’t even know why?

  1. Despite the million reasons you may have not to follow your dream, there is always one monumental reason to do it – it’s what you love.

What is stopping you from following your dream?

The Romance of a Letter – Has it disappeared from our world entirely?

/ Susan Örnbratt / Leave a comment

As I sit here in the early morning watching a blanket of cloud in washed-out yellow rush past, I wonder why it’s in such a hurry. Probably running from an encroaching storm. It makes me think of all the letters I used to write and send to far away places, the sky being their steward. As a teen, I used to write reams while waiting anxiously for the post to arrive. It would then be my turn to soak in the words of my first love. Back and forth the letters went and new letters arrived for years.

I don’t think I quite realized at the time, that all the letter writing I did would serve as training ground for my novels. It’s not a wonder why I am drawn to epistolary works, like The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society or Letters from Skye. There is a romantic quality about them. The idea alone of pouring your heart into words on paper is romantic. Heartache and joy seize the body in a more tangible way when it’s delivered in the handwriting of your suitor—the colour of ink chosen, the melody of the sentences and the beauty of the signature. Emails don’t quite capture it in the same way. Even the word electronic sounds mechanical, as though coming less from the heart and more from an assembly line.

It’s hard to argue that typewritten stories and letters can’t still be affecting. After all, I have gushed tears when reading Times New Roman. If the words are powerful enough, perhaps it wouldn’t matter how they were delivered. But ask yourself this. Do you remember the feeling of excitement waiting for that special letter to arrive in the post then tearing open the envelope, unfolding the paper, curling up in a cushy chair and being taken away? It’s true, you may well “curl up with a good book” as the expression goes, but I can honestly say, that I have never “curled up” with my laptop. Sounds almost comical.

It is becoming a rare phenomenon to receive a letter in the post these days. Bills and ads do not count. For a while I was writing, or rather typing a yearly Christmas letter, as the trend seemed to dictate, and sending them by post. I received a few myself and enjoyed the fact that someone else took the time to write about their year and put a stamp on it. That trend seems to be fading and now I receive maybe one or two a year by email. I do the same—by email now. Nice, but not quite as affecting.

After I had met my husband, who lived across the big pond from me, the handwritten letters flowed again. Now all bound together by a ribbon, each letter holds special memories. Can you imagine how incredible it would be to inherit or discover in a hidden box a collection of letters written by your ancestors? What a treasure it would be. Reading such letters would breathe new life into them, drawing out the richness of history. Would it feel the same discovering a collection of emails? Perhaps, but I would anticipate not.

For me, a handwritten letter begs the question, what can we tell about a person based on their handwriting? Right or wrong, we often connect personality to handwriting. Is it hurried writing in scribbles, suggesting little care for whom the letter is intended? Or is it pristine, suggesting care, education, authority or even snobbery? That is surely unsubstantiated and left to the imagination of the beholder. Though I have to admit, there was one person whose handwriting struck a chord every year when she would write a personal note at the end of her Christmas letter. It was the most elegant handwriting I’d ever seen like “a moving sonata for the eyes”, to quote my novel, The Particular Appeal of Gillian Pugsley. To me, her handwriting was an extension of her personality, because she was and still is just that, elegant.

Dailymail.co.uk suggests that based on the science of graphology or handwriting analysis, more than 5,000 personality traits are linked to how we write.

  • Closely written letters suggests a person is intrusive and crowds others
  • Illegible signatures mean a person is private and difficult to understand
  • Slant to the left and you generally like to work alone
  • Slant to the right and you are open to the world around you
  • Large letters means you have a big personality
  • Small and you are focused, meticulous and can concentrate easily

Based on this assertion and the handwriting alone, could the writer’s story be told or even hinted at if you discovered that collection of letters from your ancestor? It is something to consider no doubt and further romanticizes the idea. On the other hand, maybe it’s easier not to read between the lines, but rather consider the tone and style of writing and the feeling that permeates. As Anne Trubek writes in Pacific Standard Magazine, “When a new writing technology develops, we tend to romanticize the older one.” Perhaps that is exactly what I am doing here with keyboards having replaced much of today’s handwriting.

In any case, on this cold morning with its yellow-tinted clouds now replaced with a heavy, brooding sky, I choose not to believe that the romance of a letter has disappeared entirely. It’s a lovely thought to conjure up ideas of holding back the almighty keyboard and writing letters the old-fashioned way again—perhaps sending a friend a thoughtful handwritten letter once a in while. But the reality dictates something else. Our hurried lives and the ease with which we use a keyboard now, makes it much easier and faster. My romantic vision is that this will make us put more meat into our words, into our thoughts. It can drive us to produce more thoughtful letters (I hesitate to use the word emails as it still sounds impersonal). Though I will treasure the beautiful handwritten letters tucked away in my past, the ones wrapped up in ribbon, I’d like to think that I will strive to infuse a bit of romance in any writing that I produce. After all, isn’t that at the heart of all writers?

Women in History – Is a picture really worth a 1000 words?

/ Susan Örnbratt / 1 Comment

I am intrigued whenever I see photographs from the past—always have been. I cannot help but imagine what is behind a smile, a stance, the backdrop, the life of a person in a blurred, greyed photo. I’ll never forget when my grandma showed me a photo of her family standing in front of their residence in Ireland, their nanny holding one of my grandma’s siblings. The clothing and hair and how stilted everyone appeared. The photograph hinted of some wealth given the size of their house and having employed domestic help.

But it was the photograph of my great grandmother that stole my attention, with the long, elegant lines of her silhouette and full “Gibson Girl” hairstyle. There was a confidence in her gaze, one that was telling of the early 1900’s woman. I felt admiration yet I hadn’t known her. I felt awe, yet I hadn’t walked in her footsteps. I felt curious, yet I didn’t know why. Why should a photograph elicit such emotions? Evoke fictional stories if only for a moment? Perhaps it’s the unknown that is luring. Perhaps I want to believe there is a fascinating story behind every greyed photograph; a story of splendor, one of trials and grief and elation—that women endure hardship no matter their status in society. Of course, this is true for men as well, but since I write historical women’s fiction… Yet greater than the hardship, is their ability to claw their way through it and save themselves and often times more than not, save their families. What a woman wouldn’t do for her children! My great grandma proved that with her life during childbirth.

It’s incredible to think that a simple photograph can pay such tribute to a life, that a single photo can carry-on a memory or in my case, create a semblance of a relationship where once there existed nothing. I always reveled in the idea of spending a day or week a hundred years ago—to jump back in time and live in that grey photograph. I suppose it’s no wonder my minor at university was Canadian history with my favourite course being women in history. Dates bored me, but diaries and journal entries from real women in history mesmerized me.

So when I came across a photo of a woman who had spent ten months with her mother at the Ballaqueeny Hotel on the Isle of Man during World War II, I was hooked. The Ballaqueeny—a building that housed internees of mostly German and Austrian descent, was part of the internment camp at Port St. Mary—the town where my main character, Gillian Pugsley, makes her home. Unlike other photos and the countless articles I had read about the time period and camps, this one stood out. It was accompanied by a voice recording of the daughter who had stayed there. Hearing her voice as an adult looking back, somehow made the grey photo sharp as though it was becoming real to me—making the fantasy slip away. Please click on this link to hear Ursula Moeller’s account on the Isle of Man.

http://cowbird.com/story/80676/Isle_Of_Man_By_Ursula_Moeller/

So is a picture really worth a thousand words? In Gillian Pugsley’s case, I suppose it’s worth about 89,000.