Beginning to write: Helen’s writing journey – lies and twisty ways with words, and the inner child

Continuing the writer’s journey of discovery

Helen’s been to the first of her creative writing classes and, as I expected, it’s a fascinating experience. Possibly even more for me than for her.

First, everyone in the class had to introduce the person next to them, with three or four facts, one of which had to be a lie. Many of the students felt self-conscious about the lie, being scrupulous citizens and not inclined to that sort of thing.

The lie was, as you’ve probably guessed, to encourage them to take things from real life and add something extra – fictionalise, twist and shape. Seasoned fiction writers are shameless about this and fib with abandon – but for many people it’s a barrier they have to be encouraged to break. How often have you heard someone say they can’t imagine inventing a story?

Personally, I think schools are to blame. Before the age of about 10, my English teachers encouraged me and my classmates to make up stories. But once O level essay papers loomed, we were told ‘don’t choose the story option; no one does them well’. So as we put away childish things we also learned to lock away an important part of our imaginations.

Now, making stuff up is one of the skills a newbie writer has to learn. Or maybe I should say relearn.

Back to Helen’s class. The second major exercise was to write down a series of adjectives to describe an object, using what the senses would notice but not mentioning the name of the object. So a table might be brown, polished, scented with beeswax, wavy with swirly knots, warm to the touch. To break the natural habit of telling, and instead learning to describe by noticing the experience of things. One of the literary cornerstones, no less – show not tell.

Then the class were asked to list all the adjectives they’d used in alphabetical order, and to find others starting with the same letter that could go with them. To some it must have seemed like something they last did in infants’ school, choosing a word for its sound and not just its precise meaning. But this is first steps in alliteration.

Most of this, of course, seasoned writers take for granted but as always I find it intriguing to deconstruct what we do. It is as if when we learn to write creatively we are awakening an old awareness. Words don’t just mean what they mean, they do a more profound job. A good description is like a spell. Facts are not facts; they are material that can be improved and put to more satisfying use. And we are learning to play with all these things again, the way we would when we were children.

 Read the first Helen’s writing journey here – what beginners need