I write books. I write a lot of books, and I write them at the same time. I do this because I’m a storyteller, and because I use writing as a way of escaping to another place, time, and life. And all that’s great–but it really doesn’t result in good books.
This is because while I am a storyteller, I tend to get lost in minutia. My readers might enjoy my storytelling, but they tend to have a hard time following the big story–the overarching narrative that ties all the little stories together, and makes them more together than they are apart.
A few days ago I posted a request for people to weigh in on which of my current writing projects they’d like me to focus on next. The answers were pretty much divided, but then fate took a hand. A book I’m typesetting about helping loved ones who are facing death included a passage on the importance of “both/and” thinking, rather than “either/or” thinking.
The writer explained that it was particularly important in circumstances where “ambiguous death” was involved–missing persons, Alzheimer’s patients, and as in my case, where my father’s terminal illness brought up a whole scorpions’ nest of emotions, memories, and history. His death was incredibly complex, and I found myself wishing for the false simplicity of an either/or answer to the questions he left behind.
It should come as no surprise that I’ve been weighing those days, and I’ve come to see that the question of whether we would be either/or people or both/and people really was the defining question we faced. How we answered that question is what determined how those terrible days played out.
Recognizing this has given me something I never have had before–a clear theme for a book, one that governs every aspect of how I will put this book together. I have the stories–lots of them–but I’ll be retelling them, editing, shaping, and pruning to explore that central, vital question the manner of Dad’s death posed for us–would we be either/or people, or both/and people?
Speak! Good Dog! 
I’m so glad you discovered this, Bodie. It was one of the most valuable things I learned in therapy, that I try to pass on to my own clients . . . that we very often do not need to choose either/or, but look for the way to have both/and. It makes for easier solutions and a richer life, although the first thing most of us think is, “Which?” (this or that, either or) rather than “How?” (to have both). It is a complete shift in how to live and how to view things.
Yes–it means learning to hold others’ lives more gently, as well as ourselves. It seems like a paradox at first–the idea that we can each encompass opposites in ourselves–but in the end it feels like a deeper, richer truth, to me, at least. And it’s the only way to make peace with the complexities of those in our lives.
I am excited to read your rewrites with this new perspective. Exciting!
Me, too! It’s given me a guide to chart a path, at least. I’m not kidding myself that I’m even close to done, yet, but I’ve got a direction, and it feels like a good one.
Me, too. Please be sure to let us know when this is available for us to read.
I will–I’ll be needing readers for feedback. So far I’ve just got the direction, and I’ve been working on identifying key stories that track my journey. But everything’s going to have to be crafted to serve the story, so it’s going to be a while.