Seeking Contradictions

The Teachers Write virtual summer camp with Gae Polisner, Kate Messner, Jo Knowles, Jen Vincent and friends officially starts this week!! 

I'm not ready, for all kinds of reasons. Like, 

1. How scary is it to say, "I'm finally gonna start writing a novel today." Such a huge endeavor! It's not like I don't have material: I have a ton of research and the family history that sparked the idea in the first place. 
2. Maybe I'm overwhelmed by too much family history material? I've got two characters based on that family history. But I don't really know them—yet—despite a plethora of facts.
3. I have no idea how to write a historical fiction novel. Maybe it's not a novel. Maybe it's a short story? Is it prose or verse? Maybe I should start writing and see what it wants to become?  That's what I do with yarn when I'm trying to get to know it. I just start knitting and see what happens. 
4. How to start? I don't know where the beginning is, or I'd start there. Maybe I should just start writing and wherever the beginning is located, it'll surface eventually.

Really, for someone who claims to be a teacher of writing, I have no idea how to do this thing. (Does anyone? Seriously, that's not rhetorical.) 

And then there's the little voice in my head who is one tough bitchacho. She wonders, "Aren't you just a coach of teachers who may or may not teach writing, Jenny? I mean, how relevant are you now that you're an instructional coach, not a classroom teacher?" There it is: The brutal truth about one of my deepest fears.

My inner critic/bitchacho reminds me of the character Svetlana from the tv show Shameless (which is most definitely not safe for work, school, or some homes. But watch! Decide for yourself!) Svetlana, both the tv character and my imaginary inner critic are brilliant, sexy, and cruelly honest. Elbow propped on the arm of my faux leather couch, she lounges gracefully, cigarette held lightly in elegant fingers, shrewdly calculating my worth with narrow eyes. She deconstructs both the living room chaos and my psyche with cool detachment.

"Jenny, you start things. You never finish. You like starting only." She places the cigarette between her lips with a delicate air of certainty, inhaling and exhaling luxuriously slow. "See the unfinished knitting and piles of books to be read?" She waves her cigarette hand with a flourish, pointing. "You have two computers, ipad, iphone, and Chromebook all within reach from chair. You distract yourself to death and accomplish nothing."

I quit smoking nearly 30 years ago, but stress, crafting the paragraph above, and Svetlana (both tv and my imaginary frenemy) make me want to start again, right now. Right. Now. But my husband stated that would be a "divorceable" offense back in 1996, and no one is truer to their word.* Plus I'm asthmatic, so it'd also be a death sentence. Picking at the peeling couch, Svetlana says, "You'll end up alone. Or dead. No smoking." 

---------- (Break for a bowl of ice cream) -----------

Okay, I'm back and plagued with questions.

First, the asterisk (*). Can you believe he only named one? Ah, youth.

So anyway, why am I so compelled to tell this story, yet not compelled to plant my butt in the chair, put my fingers on the keyboard and DO IT? Do I even like writing, or do I like having written?

Do I want to write my family history or do I want to tell a good story based on my family history? And can it be a comedy? History was funny, right? 

"But you are not funny," Svetlana curls her legs up behind her on the couch and settles in for a long vigil of doubt planting.

Svetlana on Shameless is complicated, both endearing and ruthless. I love her, and I hate her. Yet, I am fascinated by this character who has morphed into my demon slash muse this evening. And this reminds me of a lesson I learned from Matt de la Peña on his author visit to my school a couple years ago. He said that he searches for the contradictory truths in a character: that a character might have committed an awful crime but also be compassionate enough to give up his crowded auditorium seat for a younger girl. And once he discovers the contradiction, he feels like he knows the character. It may not become part of the story, but it's part of the back story. This tension of opposite truths is essential to fully fleshed characterization. Most of us humans, as well as ALL the characters on Shameless, are deeply flawed, yet we have varying degrees of redeemable qualities. I don't know the contradictions of my characters. But I feel better knowing this is a goal. I had to write my way through to this part of the blog post to reveal this lesson I already knew. 

Why am I doing this to myself?!

I believe in the power of writing teachers who write, who wrestle with ideas and pin them to the page. So, despite the sleek Svetlana's blunt, demotivating truths, I'm gonna reread the advice I have always given my students from Anne Lamont's Bird by Bird about the "one-inch picture window," that is, narrowing focus to a manageable goal. In this case, my goal is to discover the contradictions in my two main characters.  I'm going to accomplish this by doing what I asked them to do: WRITE.

Then I'm going to follow the best advice for life I've ever been given from my former assistant principal Dave Meyer: "Let it evolve." It's brilliant because it applies, no matter the situation.

Stay tuned for progress. Perhaps I can ignite that spark into a decent flame. 

So piss off, Svetlana!  

via GIPHY