Show Notes Episode 167: Even Though I'm Judging You, Don't Judge Me for Being a Chopper Mom

Today on our show, we’re talking about writing with personality and being vulnerable. And when we say vulnerable, we mean including the hard things, good and bad, about ourselves. You’ll hear a story by Dr. Jane Marks, who is a conservation ecologist and professor of Aquatic Ecology at Northern Arizona University (NAU).

The show was on September 28, 2023. Those stories, told live and filled with science and vulnerability, will be aired on this podcast in 2024.

Jane’s story, called Sometimes Families Need a Helicopter Mom is about regret. In her essay, Jane was able to tell us so many things about her life, very serious, high-stakes things, while guiding the reader past the bombs and back into what this story is about.

For more Jane, check out Episode 149: The More Things Change, the More Brussels Sprouts Stay the Same. You will never look at Brussels sprouts the same again and you will laugh your ass off. 

Writing Class Radio is hosted by Allison Langer and Andrea Askowitz. Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aiden Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler.

There’s more writing class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12-1 ET and/or Thursdays with Eduardo Winck 8-9pm ET. You’ll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. You can also sign up for Second Draft, which meets Thursdays 12-1 ET. This group is for writers looking for feedback on a more polished draft for publication. If you’re a business owner, community activist, group that needs healing, entrepreneur and you want to help your team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to www.Patreon.com/writingclassradio. Or sign up HERE for First Draft for a FREE Zoom link.

A new episode will drop every other WEDNESDAY. 

There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

Transcript

Allison Langer  0:00  
I'm Alison Langer.

Andrea Askowitz (Speaker 1)  0:16  
I'm Andrea Askowitz and this is writing class radio, you'll hear true personal stories and learn how to write your own stories. Together we produce this podcast which is equal parts heart and art. By heart we mean the truth in a story. By art, we mean the craft of writing, no matter what's going on in our lives, writing classes where we tell the truth. It's where we work out our shit.

There's no place in the world like writing class, and we want to bring you in. Today on our show. We're talking about stakes and writing with personality. Dr. Jane marks is a conservation ecologist and professor of aquatic ecology at Northern Arizona University. Jane has been taking classes with writing class radio for like, I don't know, three years now. And we just got back from NAU where we did a live show September 28 2023, where we first trained Jane Marx and Bruce Hungate students, their Ph. D. students how to personalize our science stories. And then we did a live show and those essays kicked ass and we're gonna bring them to you in 2024.

Allison Langer  1:29  
So keep listening. Back with Jane story after the break. We're back. This is Alison Langer and you're listening to writing class radio Up next is Jane Marks reading her story. Sometimes families need a helicopter mom.

Jane  1:53  
Nona when I was nine and had just started gymnastics, my husband Bruce and I were watching her practice with six other moms crammed in a small room. We could see the expansive gym with stations for balance beams parallel bars and trampolines. An instructor was helping no no with a backflip, but she wasn't ready. No, no look scared. One woman said Nona can't compete at regionals. Without backflips. She told us her daughter did backflips at age four when she also learned to read she asked me if known it does well in school. So So I said, No, no read The Iliad in first grade in English, but didn't master the Latin version until second. The room went silent until Bruce said, Don't you mean Greek? When the same moms opened their own gymnastic studio with better equipment and Olympic train coaches. I judge them as helicopter parents overly focused on their kids. I was working full time as a biology professor. I didn't have time to micromanage my kids activities. The next year I had breast cancer a stage three mastectomy chemo radiation kind of cancer, a 50% chance of reoccurrence cancer, a flip a coin and I live or die cancer. That same year our son Dylan 13, had a seizure and was diagnosed with epilepsy. As I battled cancer, Dylan seizures began occurring every few months despite anti seizure medication. He needed brain surgery. Friends helped us care for Nona. Erica took her to gymnastics, Beth drove her to middle school, Mindy made cookies. My friend saw no no more than I did. No one had dumped her best friend and tried but failed to join the popular girls. She quit gymnastics and started theater. When we were in the hospital with Dylan Nona stayed with my sister on the phone Nona was complaining about her friend troubles. I interrupt it. I can't deal with this. Now. I need you to be strong. I heard known as voice catching her throat and I felt like the worst mom. Fight five years later, Dylan and I were healthy. I thought we'd made it through the hard part. One night Nona was sitting on my bed. I'll miss Dylan when he goes to Berkeley. But she said but what I asked. I want She said not finishing her thought. More attention. I asked and hugged her. She smelled good. You miss so much. She said. I'm sorry. I said you were a trooper. Can I tell you something? She asked. Don't freak out. I felt afraid. I tried cutting. When I asked around Dillon surgery. I remember that phone call how I cut her off. I thought it was normal teenage angst Are you cutting now? I asked. No, she said. She told me she was still lonely at school but like the kids in the community theater company. I know you aren't a theatre person, she said, but maybe you could come to rehearsals. Anyway. My daughter wanted me involved so I volunteered. in Flagstaff, the only musical theatre company was run by evangelical Christians who constantly yelled at the kids. They only performed Disney. When Noah was 15. She was Babette, a flirty French maid and Beauty and the Beast. She wasn't allowed to sit on Lumieres lap because it was too slow it even Disney needed to be censored. I had misgivings. But no, no was making friends. The next year no an audition for Little Mermaid. She didn't get a lead. No nos audition was great. But the leads were going to kids who tend to the same churches as the directors. When the producer wouldn't take my call. I wrote a three page manifesto outlining the injustices, demanding resignations. I sent it to the producers and CC all the theater parents. My complaints set off a rush of rants and resignations. In retrospect, my manifesto was excessive. We weren't fighting a toxic waste dump. But I had to fight for my kid. Flagstaff needed a better theater experience for teens. After meeting with local theater experts and parents I started a new theater company called Flagstaff arts, music and education, fame. I was back to working full time and knew it would be a serious time commitment. But this was my chance to do something for Nona. Dozens of people volunteered their time and talents. We had fair auditions, and the kids voted on the shows they'd perform. Every week known and her friends rehearsed in our house, I made spaghetti or ordered pizzas. Our house was no longer a sick house. Known to help me set up auditions and coordinate rehearsals in the car we listened to soundtracks and sang as we posted the town advertising shows known to position the poster I use the staple gun. We stopped for frozen yogurt on the west side and cinnamon rolls downtown. What I lacked in experience I made up with Dr. I was a mom making up for lost time.

Toward Nona’s senior year the kids wanted to perform Heather's an edgy musical about teen bullying school violence and suicide. The adults were hesitant. No no organize a lobbying session that was far more diplomatic than my manifesto. The kids told us why they wanted Heather's one spoke about the day the police came to their school because the student was on the roof with a gun. Another talked about a friend who committed suicide known as said adults don't want to hear it. But this is our life. Can't we use theater to talk about stuff instead of pushing it under the rug. I thought back to the phone call when I was dismissive about known as complaints. This time I listened. The students put on Heather's Nona wanted to be Veronica the nice girl with the best solos. But she was cast as this queen bee Heather Chandler Nothing makes a mom prouder than watching her daughter face a packed audience and say, fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Recently known a left for college where she's majoring in environmental science. Sitting on the board of the theatre group and reading the Elliott have handed fame off to the next generation of parents. my tenure as helicopter mom is over. But it was worth the effort. I realized I judge the gymnastics moms too harshly. Like me. They just wanted to show their kids how much they love them

Allison Langer  9:14  
I love any essay that says fuck. Oh my God, I love Jane so much. I just And because we know Jane so well. I can completely see her like not taking any shit and saying fuck this. I'm going to start my own thing. Like let's get going. And I just really love the whole theme. Because you and I also are working moms. I mean, obviously, we don't we're not as high powered as Jane. But we miss things. I mean, I still missed a lot of stuff. I either you know being away or I don't know there's there's there's times and so when I can do something sometimes I overdo it, you know? What do you mean? What do you overdo? Just like when I show up for my kid some times I overdo it, like, let's get, um, you know, like I go into full combat mode,

Speaker 1  10:04  
like you're wearing full regalia of the of the school, like hats, wet shirt, that's, you know,

Allison Langer  10:11  
just the opposite, like, I'm on my kids side if they're opposing a teacher or the school or like, I'm like, Alright, let's get them. Like I believe in them and I try to step back, but I just really want to support my kid and however that kid needs to be supported at the time and sometimes I don't, you know, stand back and think about like, what's going on? And I kind of got that a little bit in here that she was she she was making up for lost time. She even says it. The I was just a mom making up for lost time. So to me, that's what this is about. You know, I just thought this mom yeah, she over she's overdoing it. She's being that helicopter, as our producer, Matt says chopper mom, because he's Canadian. And they say funny things like that. But yeah, we show up at chopper mom, it is. Yeah. And we look like to the like to the coach or to the teacher that we're overdoing it. But there's so much behind it. Sometimes you're saying

Speaker 1  11:12  
that you've become an advocate for your kids. And I've totally seen it. And that's what Jane is, too. I feel like this. I love this story so much. I mean, there's so much I want to say about it. But it is a story sort of about regret. Jane brings up that one moment, when she was on the phone with Nona unknown. It was like having like trouble with her friends or she wanted to be in the popular group or something. And Jane was like, you just gotta be strong. And right away, I felt that the narrative felt so bad. And then she brought that moment up, I think two more times, like she brought it back. And that I thought was really good writing. And something that's so interesting about like, just a moment in time like this. I don't know if this came out of a prompt, but it may have like a moment I regret. And then she writes this whole story about the value of being a chopper mom.

Allison Langer  12:09  
And I think when you say this is good writing, you mean it's vulnerable, the narrator is getting vulnerable. And so it's more than just about like what it appears there's more to it. And so that is yeah, that's where the good writing is.

Speaker 1  12:22  
She's vulnerable, and she brings back a moment that really hurt her. She brings it back once we already know it. And I think callbacks like that are really good writing. The way she set up the story was everything. First of all, it's very, very visual. I just noticed that right now. Like we see the gym. And we're right there in the gym with these other parents. And then we get exactly who Jane is like she's so she's like, Yeah, she's reading the Iliad, in Latin. And then she got it wrong.

Allison Langer  12:59  
I love that that Bruce is like, Don't you mean Greek?

Speaker 1  13:02  
But then Bruce, her husband and the dad I've known he's supporting her like he's like, yeah, yeah, but don't you mean Greek? I just, I see them together like, oh, no, no,

Allison Langer  13:15  
we really get their personality. Yeah, yes,

Speaker 1  13:17  
exactly. And we see that Jane was not having it with these who she called helicopter mom. She was just like, good lord with these people. But at the very end, she admits that she and I really liked there were few endings like I thought there were few endings, but I love the ending ending where she said just like me, they just want to show their kids that they love them. So she also harkens back to these Parkin, I just said, Harkat. She harkens back,

Allison Langer  13:45  
definitely say it again.

Speaker 1  13:46  
Yeah, I'll say it again. She harkens back to these women in the gym, or the parents in the gym. That was really cool at the end. Another thing I noticed, I'm sorry, you want to say something? Did you want to say something?

Allison Langer  13:59  
No, no, why would I want to say something? So

Speaker 1  14:02  
I wanted to say that Jane did a really good job of raising the stakes a few times. So she was a biologist, she had cancer, then her son had seizures. So it sounds bad. But then in the next sentence, he needed brain surgery. It was really bad. She needed to like put all of her attention into her own. First she had a huge job, then she has a health crisis herself. And then she has a huge health crisis for her other kit. And then she explains so well how her friends unknown and more than she did. And then that moment, that kind of changed, everything happened.

Allison Langer  14:39  
You know, we talk a lot about dropping bombs. And Jane did a really good job of like dropping in these really big situations or circumstances and then explaining them so that we felt satisfied as a reader as we moved on to the next section. Yeah, that was really well done.

Speaker 1  14:56  
Did you think cutting was a bomb? No. Because

Allison Langer  15:00  
I got it. I mean, she considered it, they addressed it, they seem to, you know, resolve it in the sense of the story. So I felt complete, and and feel like I was paying, I thought it raised the stakes again. Well, there's consequences to every behavior, including reaching out and you know, screaming at a teacher or, you know, sending a letter or having cancer, that causes a problem, and it's not discussed, it doesn't feel realistic. So the fact that she brought all this in here shows us that there was a consequence to every single action she brings up in the story. Yeah,

Speaker 1  15:39  
right. She doesn't just tell us, uh, you know, that she hung up the phone too quickly on her kid, basically, she says, and this is what happened because of that. Yeah, her daughter tried to tried cutting. Then she goes to the part where her daughter is in this shit theater program. And I thought she did a really good job explaining what was problematic about it. And also her again, like her personality. She she writes a three page manifesto. And she was so knowing, like, she recognizes that well, well, maybe that manifesto was a bit overkill.

Allison Langer  16:15  
You know? Yes. She says no, no, organized a lobbying session that was far more diplomatic than my manifesto.

Speaker 1  16:22  
did. Yeah. Yeah. She's great at bringing back callbacks. Then she says that the house was no longer a sick house like it was working. So the story What is the story about? I was a mom making up for lost time. I think that's it stated. And sometimes, I think it's so beautiful and satisfying for me as a reader or listener to just hear it. It wasn't like, you know, she didn't do anything fancy there. She just told us. I love that. Then she remembered the phone call again. And then the best line ever. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. That was a proud moment. Yeah,

Allison Langer  17:07  
love it.

Unknown Speaker  17:08  
Yeah, so good. Really good. I love it.

Allison Langer  17:13  
Thank you for listening. And thank you chain for sharing your story. If you would like to hear more Jane, check out episode 149. The more things change the more brussel sprouts stay the same. Believe me, you will never look at brussel sprouts the same again and you will laugh your ass off.

So writing class radio is hosted by me, Alison laner. And me Andrea Moskowitz audio production by Matt Cundill. Evans, her Minsky, Chloe and Mone lane, and ating Blasi at the sound off media company. The music is by Justina Shambler. There's more writing class on our website including stories we study editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. If you want to write with us every week, you can join first draft, you have the option to join me on Tuesdays 1220 Eastern or Thursdays with Eduardo wink, eight to 9pm. Eastern, you get to write to a prompt and share what you wrote. And if you're a business owner, community activist group that needs healing entrepreneur or you just want to help your team write better. Check out all the classes we offer on our website writing class radio.com. Join the community that comes together for instruction and excuse to write in the support from other writers. To learn more, go to patreon.com/writing class radio or our website to sign up for a free zoom link. The free link is also on Instagram and our social media bios. A new episode will drop every other Wednesday.

Speaker 1  18:56  
There is no better way to understand ourselves and each other than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What's yours?

Produced and distributed by the sound off media company

Show Notes Episode 166: The Most Unique Essay We've Ever Aired

Today on our show, we bring you a story by Kimberly Elkins. Kimberly is the author of the novel, WHAT IS VISIBLE, which was a New York Times Book Review Editors' Choice and named to several Best of 2014 lists. She’s written for The Atlantic, The New York Times, The Iowa Review, The Chicago Tribune, The Los Angeles Review of Books, Glamour, Slice, The Cincinnati Review, and Best New American Voices. She was a Finalist for the National Magazine Award, and has also won a New York Moth StorySlam. You can find her on X  @GoodWordGirl. 

Kimberly’s story was originally published in The Cincinnati Review and is the most unique essay I think we’ve ever gotten. It uses second person point of view and still, it’s vulnerable. It’s short. It’s mighty. It’s amazing.

Writing Class Radio is hosted by Allison Langer and Andrea Askowitz. Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aiden Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler.

There’s more writing class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12-1 ET and/or Thursdays with Eduardo Winck 8-9pm ET. You’ll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. You can also sign up for Second Draft, which meets Thursdays 12-1 ET. This group is for writers looking for feedback on a more polished draft for publication. If you’re a business owner, community activist, group that needs healing, entrepreneur and you want to help your team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to www.Patreon.com/writingclassradio. Or sign up HERE for First Draft for a FREE Zoom link.

A new episode will drop every other WEDNESDAY. 

There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

Transcript

Andrea Askowitz  0:00  
 I'm Andrea Askowitz.

Allison Langer  0:16  
I'm Alison Langer and this is Writing Class Radio. You'll hear true personal stories and learn how to write your own stories. Together, we produce this podcast which is equal parts heart and art. By heart, we mean the truth in a story and by art, we mean the craft of writing. No matter what's going on in our lives. Writing Class is where we tell the truth. It's where we workout our shit. 

Andrea Askowitz  0:39  
Shit. 

Allison Langer  0:41  
There's no place in the world like Writing Class, and we want to bring you in.

Andrea Askowitz  0:46  
Today on our show, we bring you a story by Kimberly Elkins. Kimberly is the author of the novel What Is Visible, which was a New York Times Book Review Editor's Choice and name to several Best of 2014 lists. She's written for the Atlantic, the New York Times the Iowa review, the Chicago Tribune, the Los Angeles Review of Books, Glamour slice, the Cincinnati review, and Best New American voices. She was a finalist for the National Magazine Award and has also won a New York moth story slam. Okay, now I'm jealous.

Allison Langer  1:19  
Good God. That's a long list.

Andrea Askowitz  1:22  
I know she's gotten all this great writing stuff. But I'm jealous of her New York Moth Story Slam win. Damn her. 

Allison Langer  1:30  
Yeah, you are.

Andrea Askowitz  1:31  
Okay. Her website is Kimberlyelkins.com and you can find her on Twitter at Good Word Girl. All of this info will be on our website and in our show notes wherever you get your podcast. Her story was originally published in the Cincinnati Review. Yay for the Cincinnati Review because now they got my attention. This is the most unique essay I think we've ever gotten. It uses the second person point of view, and it's still vulnerable. It's short. It's mighty. It's amazing.

Allison Langer  2:03  
Back with Kimberly Elkins story after the break. We're back. This is Alison Langer and you're listening to Writing Class Radio. Up next is Kimberly Elkins reading her story, The Game For Winners.

Kimberly Elkins  2:16  
We call it fainting. Gathered in a not at recess or after lunch at an Empty Quarter or corner of the gym. Wherever the teachers had been told to stop the game couldn't find us. The game went like this. You knelt and breathe deeply 1,2,3 and then jumped up as hard and as fast as you could. A boy's arms wrapped around you from behind in a bear hug squeezing the air from your diaphragm. A tingle in your stomach, hard trail, thrill burn up to your chest. Like the compression of body in the seconds and airplanes wheels leave the ground. You slumped in his arms as the world pinhole to one tiny point of blackness. And when you walk lying on the floor, how much later minutes or hours or days you had no idea. The strange faces crowded in the circle above you, seconds of near terror. You would left this life, this realm for an obliteration of consciousness of the cornerless sky and of all the senses. And there was no better feeling than waking to that thunderhead of confusion. You find euphoria in disorientation. You find euphoria in displacement. You find euphoria and losing the who, what, when, where and why. To be lost is to dwell wholly in the present and so you continue to choose it. Breathe deeply in and out 1,2,3 and jump up in bed to do it again and again until your vision doubled, and your head and on the stalk of your neck. The best fainter that's what you were. The unbeaten champion, the absolute best at going under, at staying under. Girls were better at fainting boys were better at squeezing. Although if you've always wanted to be fainted, too. It was strange to watch a boy gun that we laid out carefully on the floor. Even in the fifth grade, it seemed that position was meant for girls. Years later, you found that same wush of unbecoming with the drinking with certain drugs. Coming to on your back naked or not turning your head on the pillow against the floor against the car seat. Maybe a base above yours lowering itself to meet your mouth or the back of the tassel head you don't recognize and then the hardest part of the game, but also the most thrilling, trying to figure out where you were, how you got there. How long you've been out of touch with the world. But you were back in it may be against your deepest wishes, your truest desires. And there was nothing left to do but to get up, to sit or crawl forward on the carpet, on the gravel on the grass, on the bed, and then to rise and to keep rising. To live to tell the tale. You were the best at this game. You still are, you sick winner.

Allison Langer  5:32  
I mean, insane, insane, insane, insane. Insane. I just, I when I read this, I was so drawn in. I thought it was so powerfully written. So simple and the story is just not when I've ever heard. I was like, wow, wow. Right? 

Andrea Askowitz  5:52  
Yes. And when you say insane what you're saying is fucking awesome. 

Allison Langer  5:57  
Yes. 

Andrea Askowitz  5:58  
But also, I think you're right. It is a little. It's a little off in a way that I am so impressed by. She says things that you like, like, I hate that there's sort of like a thought police out there, but there kind of is. And she says, she's literally describing a blackout. And then she calls it thrilling. I don't know that you're allowed in quotes to talk like that to say that out loud. But she did. I'm so impressed with her honesty. That was the part that like gave me chills. 

Allison Langer  6:32  
Yeah, cuz it's like we are inside her head. She has not processed and filtered to get it on the page like most writing, it is in side. Unprocessed, totally raw.

Andrea Askowitz  6:45  
Yeah. This is the line that I swear I was like chose, chose. And then the hardest part of the game, but also the most thrilling, trying to figure out where you were how you got there. How long you'd been out of touch with the world? That's right after she's describing, coming to naked or not. Maybe there's someone who she was with maybe not. Damn.

Allison Langer  7:09  
We learned so much about this narrator. So much.

Andrea Askowitz  7:13  
Ah, yes. Wow. Oh, I want to talk also about the use of the second person because that's also something that's so different. So, okay, this narrator is so vulnerable and so honest. But how is it that she used the second person which is that means she used the word you instead of what we typically see in a personal essay, which is I and she used it in a way you said right after we you Allison, not the general you but you said as soon as we stopped hearing it, how it brought you in. And usually I feel like the second person is like a distancing tactic a little bit. I feel like narrator's use it when they're when they're starting to get too scared or too close to something that's hard.

Allison Langer  7:59  
Well, I think that you separate the writer from whatever she's writing. But I've always felt that it brings everybody else into the story, because the you then brings us all into the you. We are when she says you were talking about everyone, not just her. So that's why I felt so drawn in.

Andrea Askowitz  8:20  
So what I think she did, and I think that so I've heard this a few times now and now I'm seeing it one more time and I think that the way she did what you just described, so she starts with the general you. And she's talking to all of us, as if we've all knelt and breathe deeply. Like we've all lost ourselves in this way. Like we've all slumped in the arms of someone and lost our breath, but then she takes it to the end, and she is clearly talking to herself. You were the best at this game. You still are, you sick winner. She is calling herself out right there. 

Allison Langer  8:59  
Yeah. 

Andrea Askowitz  9:00  
How did she do that? How did she go from talking to all of us to talking to herself, so seamlessly. Like I almost didn't notice it, but this time I noticed it and I was like, whoa, that's cool. 

Allison Langer  9:12  
That was the best last line ever. 

Andrea Askowitz  9:14  
Yeah, she's judging herself. She's also praising herself.

Allison Langer  9:20  
Yeah, she's saying I know it's not good. Yeah.

Andrea Askowitz  9:22  
I don't know how long it is. I want to check to see how long it is. It's 487 words, in less than 500 words. This narrator tells us this whole story this there, there are two vivid scenes. It travels from being in fifth grade to being an adult.

Allison Langer  9:41  
Wow. Well, I'm so glad we were able to share this story with our listeners. And I'm so glad Kimberly Elkins shared this story with us because we get a lot of submissions and some I'm like, okay, I don't know about the story. It's not unique. It's kind of blah. It's not fixed, it's not finished. It's not but I felt like this was a full piece. It was something I had not heard before and it was really it drew me in completely. So I'm glad we were able to share it.

Andrea Askowitz  10:08  
It was a new situation and it was a new take. I mean, it was a new situation and it was a new kind of not take, but it was a new perspective craft wise, it was very different.

Allison Langer  10:21  
Yeah, you're right. Yes. We haven't seen something laid out like this. 

Andrea Askowitz  10:26  
Beautiful 

Allison Langer  10:28  
All right. Thank you for listening. And thank you Kimberly Elkins for sharing your story.

Writing Class Radio is hosted by me Alison Langer.

Andrea Askowitz  10:44  
And me Andrea Askowitz. 

Allison Langer  10:46  
Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminsky, Chloe Emond-Lane and Aiden glassy of Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler. There's more Writing Class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. If you want to write with us every week, you can join our first draft weekly writers group. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12 to 1 Eastern and or Thursday with Eduardo Wink, 8 to 9pm Eastern. You'll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. If you're a business owner, community activist group that needs healing entrepreneur and you want to help your whole team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com. Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to patreon.com/writingclass radio. If you want a free Zoom link to first draft email Andrea at writingclass radio.com Or you can jump on Instagram and click on the link in bio. A new episode will drop every other Wednesday.

Andrea Askowitz  11:57  
There is no better way to understand ourselves and each other than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What's yours? 

Tara Sands (Voiceover)  12:09  
Produced and distributed by the Sound Off Media Company.

Show Notes Episode 165: A Psychiatric Hospital Nearly Ruined My Life

Banning Lyon is the author of The Chair and The Valley, which will be available June 2024. His writing has been featured in the New York Times and the Washington Post. He currently lives in the San Francisco Bay Area and works as a backpacking guide in Yosemite National Park.

Writing Class Radio is hosted by Allison Langer and Andrea Askowitz. Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aiden Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler.

There’s more writing class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12-1 ET and/or Thursdays with Eduardo Winck 8-9pm ET. You’ll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. You can also sign up for Second Draft, which meets Thursdays 12-1 ET. This group is for writers looking for feedback on a more polished draft for publication. If you’re a business owner, community activist, group that needs healing, entrepreneur and you want to help your team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to www.Patreon.com/writingclassradio. Or sign up HERE for First Draft for a FREE Zoom link.

A new episode will drop every other WEDNESDAY. 

There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

Transcript

Allison Langer  0:15  
I'm Allison Langer.

Andrea Askowitz  0:17  
I'm Andrea Askowitz, and this is Writing Class Radio. You'll hear true personal stories and learn how to write your own stories. Together, we produce this podcast, which is equal parts heart and artists. By heart we mean the truth in a story. By art, we mean the craft of writing, no matter what's going on in our lives, writing classes where we tell the truth. It's where we work out our shift. That's happening like there's no place in the world like writing class, and we want to bring you in. Today on our show, we bring you a story by Banning Lyon. Banning Lyon is the author of the Chair and the Valley, which will be available June 2024. On the open field, which is an imprint of Penguin Random House. His writing has been featured in The New York Times and The Washington Post. He currently lives in the San Francisco Bay Area and works as a backpacking guide and Yosemite National Park. This episode is about so many things. But I want to say it's really about how to write a near perfect essay. The essay you're about to hear was originally published in The Washington Post.

Allison Langer  1:27  
Also, on this podcast, you're going to be able to hear an interview with Banning Lyon about his process, the good the bad, everything and how he ended up landing an agent. So really good stuff, so stay tuned to the end. Back with banning story after the break. 

We're back. This is Alison Langer, and you're listening to writing class radio. Up next is Banning Lyon reading his story "When I was 15, a psychiatric hospital nearly ruined my life."

Banning Lyon  2:06  
I've worked as a backpacking guide yes to many national park and Point Reyes National Seashore for over a decade. On an average workday, I'll patch a client's blister feet in the rain. She way bears and make daiquiris for folks using rum Kool Aid and snow. But the truth is that I've spent most of my adult life avoiding people because before I became a guide, I've been a victim of one of the largest mental health care fraud scams in the history of the United States. When I was 15, and 1987, my school counselor called My estranged parents and told them I was suicidal after I'd given away my skateboard. She said it was a call for help. I told him it wasn't true. I bought another board. I said, my friend broke his I gave him mine. I wanted a different one. It didn't matter. The next day, they signed me into a psychiatric hospital owned by a company that would eventually plead guilty to paying kickbacks and bribes for patient referrals, leading to the largest settlement ever between the federal government and a health care provider at the time. I spent 11 months sitting in a chair facing the pastel colored wall of my room, sometimes for up to 12 hours a day. The staff called a chair therapy. They said I was supposed to think about my problems. Most days I was forced to eat alone in my room. With the tray of food resting on my lap and I started the wall I wasn't allowed to go outside, touch anyone or speak privately with my parents or other patients. I eventually grew so sensory deprived, I could smell rain or sweat on the incoming staffs clothing, even from a distance. By the time I left the hospital, I was the scattered wreckage of a teenager. The chaos and noise of the world filled me with a superheated rage. I spent most of high school fantasizing about probably hanging my soul from the rafters of the gym. But the one thing that brought me genuine happiness that quieted my flashbacks and intrusive thoughts was being outside after nearly a year of living in the equivalent of solitary confinement. Even the sight of a few finches splashing in a rainy puddle brought tears to my eyes. Every detail of the natural world seems surreal. Now, before I began working as a guide, I had long believed that other people were better or more normal than me. Only a handful of my friends knew details of my past that I'd watched the hospital staff strapped kids to beds, sometimes for weeks and months at a time. One of my closest friends from the unit had been tied to his bed with leather Posey restraints for nearly a year. angry red bed sores surrounded his wrists and ankles when he was finally released. He needed physical rehabilitation before you could walk again. It wasn't until I began spending days in the back country with clients that I realized I wasn't different from them. They weren't better or more normal than me. They were alcoholics or cutters or parents who had alienated their kids. They'd lost siblings and spouses to cancer and suicide. Once early in my first season, a freckled woman from Boston with the accent to prove it broke down in tears while we are carrying water back to camp. My dad died last year she said, you won't be there to walk me down the aisle. He'll never be a grandfather to my kids. Her partner was on the trip with her. He had proposed the day before, at the foot of Yosemite is bridal veil fall, hours before meeting us. I stood there dumbfounded, listening to her grieve the loss of her father. She was sitting on a log in front of an enormous ponderosa pine. Its graceful branches hovering over her, as if her father were trying to comfort her again. I knew at that moment that I had found my place in the world, and that I needed to come to terms with my past. But I never would have found the courage without the serenity of nature and the help of my clients. Week after week, trip after trip, we explored different portions of the park, always coming to rest in some beautiful campsite at the foot of when he was somebody's towering granite peaks. Together, we build a fire and then cook dinner and talk about our lives. Slowly. Over those first few weeks, I began sharing portions of my past only to discover that no one thought any differently of me. They didn't scream and run away. They didn't stare at me in silence. Instead, they hugged me and wept with me. Some of them even understood what it was like to witness abuse and suffering, and to be helpless to stop it. By the end of that first season, it wasn't only nature that seemed surreal, but also the kindness of people. Today, after guiding hundreds of clients, I'm still wounded. I've learned there is no finish line for healing. But my wounds have meaning now. And for that, and for the people who have made it possible. I will be forever grateful. years ago, just weeks after I'd been hired, my boss invited me to go on a backpacking trip with her and two of her closest friends. Think of it as your orientation, she said, tossing her pack on her back at the trailhead. It turns out one of the men on the trip was her mentor, a seven year old retired biology teacher who looked like a gold miner who had gotten lost in the mountains. On the last morning of our trip, or we are sitting by a small lake in the shade of some older trees. I asked him for a bit of guiding wisdom.

What he gave me was hope. Just keep all your folks on the trail he said they'll show you the way

Andrea Askowitz  8:11  
Can I Start? I want to start There's so much I want to say about this essay and hearing it right now. Like I'm I have tears like I'm so moved. The read was so gorgeous. The whole story is so hopeful, even though fucking shit what he went through. And there's these two moments that, that I noticed this time that we're like all about hope. I'm going backwards. But it's the last two lines. So he lands the story so perfectly. What he gave me was hope this was the advice that he got from the older man. Just keep all your folks on the trail. He said they'll show you the way. And then the other part where he was talking, if it's just three paragraphs up, where he's talking about how he wants, he started sharing what happened to him. How other people were just, they didn't scream, they didn't run away. And it wasn't only nature, that seems surreal, but also the kindness of people. I mean, this narrator has every reason to fucking hate humanity. But he doesn't. And this story just shows us why

Allison Langer  9:30  
I feel like it really says a says a lot about him. What will we talk about when we receive stories and when we talk about stories on the podcast is mostly about how much we learn about a narrator. And in this story, we really get an A sense of who this guy is as far as his strength, his mindset. We really don't hear many details about what it was like for him in that place. Just a very few couple of details. And that's not what we need. Because that was many years ago. We're really interested in how it's impacted him now. And this narrator does that really, really well.

Andrea Askowitz  10:10  
I mean, I am interested in what it was like for him at that at that hospital. And I am interested in, in his backstory, and he did write a whole memoir. Oh, yeah. So yay, because I can't wait to read it. But for this essay, you're right. He didn't need to go into all the details about that, that nearly a year that he spent there, he gave us just enough. Sometimes I like it before, like what was life like before. And this narrator gave us really one word or two words to show us the before. And that was my school counselor called My Estranged Parents. So we know that his his parents are estranged. That's all we know. But I so believed him based on what then happened. They believe this counselor, his parents, and they took him to a psychiatric hospital that nearly ruined his life. Now I'm seeing the title in a new way. When I was 15, a psychiatric hospital nearly ruined my life. This advice saved me. And I, I love the title now because of that word nearly. Because it could have so destroyed him. But it didn't

Allison Langer  11:31  
100% The other thing I really love and we talk about this, too, is even if this situation didn't happen to us specifically, we've all been in a place where our past something in our past kind of haunts us? And how do we keep going. And this narrator really draws that home and his writing in a very succinct way, mostly about first of all, sharing his information and realizing that people were drawn to him. And also that his friends, you know, if you can keep people close, they will guide you. And we as people sometimes shut people out when we're hurting or in pain. And I've realized that I know you have that the more vulnerable I have been, the more people have drawn to me. And I see that in his story. So I completely relate it a lot. And I loved it because of that.

Andrea Askowitz  12:26  
Yeah, I know. I agree. I don't

Allison Langer  12:30  
think this guy was a writer going in was here. He's been writing for years.

Andrea Askowitz  12:36  
No, this is his first project. This book, I think that he learned to write so that he could write the story about what happened to him. And we're gonna get him on the line, which I'm so excited about because he is the loveliest man. And I spoke to him very briefly, and I can't wait to ask him some questions for our radio listeners. But yeah, he'd learned to write so that he could write this story. But there's a few other things about this essay that I wanted to mention. I mean, his details, I think his details are spot on the part where he's talking about how sensory deprived he was that he could smell rain on someone, just like the specifics of that, or sweat on an incoming staffs clothing, God, another place where his details just like really struck me where a few finches splashing in a rainy puddle. Okay, so he's amazing with details. He also, this is something that I just noticed. He knows trauma and post traumatic stress disorder, but he did not use those tired words. And I don't mean to diss anybody who's been through a traumatic event, because, you know, so many personal essays are made of like, are made, because that people are making art out of their bad situations. But God, how many of the submissions that we read, where people use words like trauma and PTSD, like they just throw them out? And they've come to kind of lose meaning for me, but banning Lyon talked about? I can't remember how he put it. Oh, he did outdoors quieted his flashbacks and intrusive thoughts. I just thought that was so well said. Basically, we understand. He just said it exactly the way a person would tell another person who isn't steeped in lingo and jargon. And I really appreciated that.

Allison Langer  14:44  
And in one paragraph, he's fantasizing about hanging himself in the rafters to the amazement of the finches in the puddle and then realizing, you know, like he thought that other people were better than him or more normal and you know, That's, that's pretty cool how in just a very succinct short paragraph we learn where this narrator's mindset was that for so long, this narrator was thinking he was not normal, and that he was the only one who had suffered. And then one by one, he starts hearing about other people. And it wasn't a comparative thing like sometimes people do. Because there really is no comparison, when you're talking about trauma, what's trauma for one person in any sort of shape, or form, it's trauma for another person in another shape or form. So I just thought that was it was really interesting that he didn't, he didn't compare. But he's just saying that once he realized that, he started to feel like he was normal, and he fit in to the world. So I thought that was really cool.

Andrea Askowitz  15:39  
One other thing that I loved, love, love so much about this essay. And that is like an essay needs to bring in evidence to prove a point. And so this narrator is telling us that he realized he wasn't different from anyone else, or from the other people that were around him. And then here's this scene. So here's the evidence that proves what he's saying. He's listening to this woman talk about her father who died, and he wasn't going to be able to walk her down the aisle. I stood there dumbfounded, listening to her grieve the loss of her father, she was sitting on a log in front of enormous ponderosa pine, its graceful branches hovering over her as if her father were trying to comfort her again. I'm like, I got chills. There's the evidence. There's this moment. It's a scene. It's, it's gorgeous. It's everything a personal essay needs to be. And now I'm distracted, because the beautiful Banning Lyon is sitting in front of us on our zoom.

Banning Lyon, thank you so much for joining us. First thing I want to ask you, I mean, I'm overwhelmed with wanting to ask you like 20 questions at once. But what I first want to ask you is about the so we know that you wrote a full memoir, actually, even before you wrote this essay. So will you talk for like a minute or two about the process of writing that memoir,

Banning Lyon  17:20  
I could talk for hours about the process of writing a memoir.

Andrea Askowitz  17:23  
That's why I said minute or two.

Banning Lyon  17:26  
When I began writing my book, I was about 45-46. I had a book deal and a movie deal shortly after the lawsuit that I was involved in, after the hospital. But I turned it down. I didn't want to be famous for being a psychiatric patient. And so it just wasn't anything I was interested in. But I had an event take place, I became a backpacking guide, and Yosemite National Park, I still backpack and guide. They're an outdoor educator in the Bay Area, I also teach outdoor skills. And that was sort of my way to reconnect to people. Because I grew up in the outdoors, it's always been my happy place. And I was disconnected from the hospital. So I had an event take place on a class. And I can't discuss the details of that, because it really is sort of crucial to my story. But when I had that event take place, I knew that I was sort of, I had a moral obligation to write a book, in many ways. And I think a lot of what powered my writing was survivor guilt, because a lot of my friends from the hospital are dead. And I felt sort of compelled to do what I could with the rest of my life, because I feel like the rest of my life is very much a gift compared to theirs.

Andrea Askowitz  18:37  
So 30 years later, you started to write your book 30 years later, yeah,

Banning Lyon  18:42  
I've always been kind of a writer, I dabbled with it and mess with it. But I didn't really learn the actual trade or craft of writing until I took this book very seriously. So much so that I took a year off from writing the book and actually to basically put myself through a kind of a college level, style and grammar course in order to understand to like, embrace my voice, because my voice isn't what I wanted it to be. I wanted to be a very certain type of writer and then discovered my voice wanted me to very be a very different kind of writer. And so I had to learn to embrace that voice, which I came to love, and I'm very good at, but it wasn't initially how I wanted to sound.

Andrea Askowitz  19:19  
How would you describe how you wanted to sound and how do you how would you describe how you do sound?

Banning Lyon  19:23  
I wanted to be very sort of writerly when I first started wanting to write I wanted to embellish everything and really get into details and and I think there's a time and a place for that and writing but I found out that actually write very economically I write like, basically like a journalist and that I think in many ways lended itself to my story because a it's very long and I needed to keep it brief.

Andrea Askowitz  19:48  
I just want to interrupt for a second to say to anyone listening. Sometimes it's really important to get out of our own writerly Minds, Like Writer Lee in quotes and just tell the story And I think that you are a great example of someone who had learned to do that. I know it based on your essay, your essay is just a great, well told, not pretentious, not Writer Lee, perfectly told story. So how long did it take you to write the full memoir and tell me a little bit about like, you told me this the other day on the phone, but like, what was your process like what you put yourself through?

Banning Lyon  20:24  
Yeah, writing my memoir took me in total, a good six years. And it included probably three full rewrites, my initial first draft was entirely too long. And so I cut my manuscript nearly in half, by the time I'd finished. And I'm not one of those writers who just for the sake of writing is going to write every day. But if I have a project I write every day period, no exceptions seven days a week. And when I was writing my book, I wrote often, no fewer than 10 hours a day, and probably as many is 16. And I often did not eat, I wouldn't take breaks, I wouldn't stand up for hours and hours and hours at a time, which to me is totally normal. Because when I lived in the hospital, that was my life. And so it's a familiar place for me to just sort of go into my head and live there for many hours and not eat or drink or do anything and then sort of come to it.

Andrea Askowitz  21:25  
Was it comforting when you were writing your book? Or was it a sort of a form of self torture?

Banning Lyon  21:29  
Both, I think in many ways, revisiting my past was both horrifically traumatizing, and comforting, because there are people from my past who are no longer here, who I could only really spend time with in the book. And so my book, in many ways is a love story is like a love letter to those people. And I won't say it was like masochistic. But it many times, I felt as if I was doing harm to myself by writing because it was so incredibly painful. I'd spend hours crying while I was writing, knowing that it was really good writing, but I just simply couldn't stop because I was in the right place. Emotionally, in order to get into what I needed to get into in order to get the words on paper. It was a very, very, very brutal process that took me many years. And I often wonder, sometimes looking back now, if I had known what this entire journey to publishing would be like, you know, would I have done it? And I would, ultimately, I know that in my heart of hearts, because it's also been very cathartic and therapeutic for me to have undergone this process. But I think ultimately, it's been a net gain. And goodness,

Andrea Askowitz  22:44  
when you were finished with the chair in the valley, what did you do? How did you get your agent because I know that you got your agent and your publisher in a very unusual and your testament to the brilliance of your writing, you got an agent, that way,

Banning Lyon  22:58  
you have very few shots to get your memoir in front of an agent, you basically can do it once. And then when you're turned away, you don't have another chance to really top your book to that agent or agency. And so have really good high quality agents, you have maybe 100 to 200 in the United States, or in the world, it really essentially. And so I knew my book had to be very, very, very good. And so I worked on really tightening up, I worked on writing a really tight query letter, which a good friend of mine, who's also a writer helped me with, I wrote ultimately about 4040 query letters. And I got, I think, out of those maybe eight full requests, which is about par for the course, I think for most writers, the few rejections I got were very kind. They were often like, we're not the right agency for you, or I'm not the right agent, I think you'll find a home for it. So from the very beginning, really my top pick, was an agent named Nick Thompson. I just sort of had this gut feeling that I Meg and I would resonate. I'm not sure why exactly. And then I read an interview with her and Curtis, they asked her what's your least favorite genre to get queried, and she said memoir? And she said, because it's often just derivative or some story that's being retold and that she really loves memoirs, but they're just good ones are so rare. And so I don't know what inspired me. In those words. I was like, That's aged like that. I just knew and so I queried mag. And I've basically written her off because as most writers who are acquiring understand now silence really is the common rejection. Getting a rejection letter is actually kind of a rare treat. But one

Andrea Askowitz  24:35  
thing that you told me is that you queried Meg Thompson, cold, you didn't know anyone that knew her. And the game lately is you really need to say so and so suggested I query you, but you didn't have that you didn't have a step into the door.

Banning Lyon  24:52  
I had no sort of referral at all. I called curator and I did that really for every agent except one. And so I didn't hear about back from her for nearly three months through what's called query manager. And then one day, I heard back from egg and she said, I read your query with interest. I'd like to read the full manuscript that's like, wow, that's cool. By then I gotten, you know, I think, like I said, about seven full manuscript requests. So I was like, Don't get too excited. You know, it'll probably just be a rejection, but still, you know, and so I sent her the full manuscript and kind of put it out of my mind. Two weeks passed, and then I heard back, I sent her a proposal says, like, Okay, I'll just sit here, twiddling my thumbs. And so, two, three weeks passed. And I just was like, Okay, I guess she didn't like my proposal. And I was a little heartbroken because Meg was my number one pick. And then one day, I was actually in kind of a sour mood. I was really sad and kind of mulling over this defeat that I had been looking so forward to. I was very deflated that day. I came home and I was cutting watermelon for my daughter. And my email alert went off. And I just grabbed my phone just offhandedly and looked at it, and it said offer representation from Thomson literary agency, you know, I broke down into tears. I mean, I sat on the floor and just started crying. It was a huge, huge moment for me.

Andrea Askowitz  26:10  
But the way that you did it was seriously like 0.1% of anybody who gets an agent gets an agent out of the slush pile. And so it is so amazing and fantastic.

Banning Lyon  26:25  
Yeah, as most writers know, it's like winning the Powerball lottery, it was really a huge, huge, huge, huge thing for me. But then, you know, then you have to publisher and so that was a whole nother part of the journey. So

Andrea Askowitz  26:37  
tell us just quickly who your publisher is. And what's the release date.

Banning Lyon  26:41  
I'm being published on an imprint called the open field, which is Maria Shriver has personally curated imprint on Penguin Random House. And my book is slated to be released in June of 24.

Andrea Askowitz  26:54  
One last thing I want to say is that most writers, they try to get the attention of an agent through a splashy story, like the one that we just heard in the Washington Post. But you got the agent and then you wrote this story in the Washington Post. So your story just stand on its own. Your story is beyond beautiful and tragic. And you bring meaning to it in a way. That's amazing.

Banning Lyon  27:15  
Thank you. So it was quite easy to write. It only took me like 45 minutes to write the essay. By then I was very practiced writer.

Andrea Askowitz  27:23  
Don't tell us bad bad.

Banning Lyon  27:26  
So let me elaborate quickly because while the essay took me 45 minutes to write the last paragraph took me two days to tweak. So the day I got it, I was like, Okay, this is done. I just knew it.

Andrea Askowitz  27:37  
Well, it really took six years of writing the book and a lifetime of experience. And then 45 minutes plus two days, so well, on petting lion.

Allison Langer  27:50  
I think for us, like just being able to share your words with our listeners is so amazing. So thank you so much for taking the time and doing that with us. Really?

Banning Lyon  27:59  
You're all very well. Yeah, thank you.

Andrea Askowitz  28:01  
It's goofy to say you're an inspiration, but I'm inspired.

Banning Lyon  28:05  
Thanks for your interest means a lot to me.

Allison Langer  28:07  
So thank you for listening and thank you Banning for sharing your story with us. Writing class radio is hosted by me, Alison Langer. And Andrea asked what's audio production is by Matt Cundill Evans Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane and Aidan Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler. There's more writing class on our website including stories we studied editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. You want to write every week with us you can join our first draft weekly writers group, you have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12 to 1 Eastern Time and or Thursdays with Eduardo wink 8 to 9pm Eastern time. Your right to prompt and share what you wrote. If you're a business owner, community activist group that needs healing entrepreneur and you want to help your whole team write better check out all the classes we offer on our website, writing class radio.com. Join the community that comes together for instruction and excuse to write and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to patreon.com/writing class radio for sign up first draft on our website. A new episode will drop every other Wednesday.

Andrea Askowitz  29:32  
There was no better way to understand ourselves and each other than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What's yours?

Tara Sands (Voiceover)  29:45  
produced and distributed by the sound off media company

Show Notes Episode 164: Can We Live on Through Our Writing?

Today on our show, we bring you a story by Amy Paturel, which is a great example of how to write about someone else while still including the narrator in a big way. Paturel incorporates her husband’s late wife’s writing into a story that is both emotional, tender, and beautifully composed. She answers the question: Can we live on through writing? She shows us that we can live on through the notes in the margins even if those notes are never published. This story was originally published in Lit Hub on June 28, 2023.

Amy Paturel’s essays have appeared in The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, The Washington Post, Parents, Health and Good Housekeeping, among other publications. Two of her pieces have been featured in Newsweek’s “My Turn” column, and she has won two “honorable mention” awards in ASJA’s personal essay category.

Writing Class Radio is hosted by Allison Langer and Andrea Askowitz. Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aiden Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler.

There’s more writing class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12-1 ET and/or Thursdays with Eduardo Winck 8-9pm ET. You’ll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. You can also sign up for Second Draft, which meets Thursdays 12-1 ET. This group is for writers looking for feedback on a more polished draft for publication. If you’re a business owner, community activist, group that needs healing, entrepreneur and you want to help your team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to www.Patreon.com/writingclassradio. Or sign up HERE for First Draft for a FREE Zoom link.

A new episode will drop every other WEDNESDAY. 

There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Transcript

I'm Andrea Askowitz.

Allison Langer 0:16

I'm Allison Langer. And this is Writing Class Radio. You'll hear true personal stories and learn how to write your own stories. Together, we produce this podcast which is equal parts heart and art. By heart, we mean the truth in a story. And by art, we mean the craft of writing, no matter what's going on in our lives. Writing class is where we tell the truth. It's where we work out our sheeeeit. Here's no place in the world like writing class, and we want to bring you in.

Andrea Askowitz 0:44

Today on our show, we bring you a story by Amy Paturel. This story was originally published in LitHub on June 28, 2023. It is gorgeous. And this story is a really great example of how to write about someone else, and also revealing who you are as the narrator. And it does something else that's just amazing. Which is really, really hard. I don't know, I don't want to give any spoilers, but it's about someone who's died. And it's also about writing, and the importance of writing as a way to keep that person alive. Back with Amy's story after the break. We're back. This is Andrea Askowitz and you're listening to Writing Class Radio. Up next is Amy Paturel, reading her story, Getting to Know My Husband's Late Wife Through the Words She Left Behind.

Amy Paturel 1:48

Shortly after my husband Brandon and I began dating, I was shocked to discover his bookshelves housed the same titles I had on mine. Beloved, The Cider House Rules, The Book of Ruth. The books weren't his. He doesn't share my passion for reading. They belong to his late wife. When Brandon and I married two years later, I found myself grappling with whether to keep Shereese's copy of East of Eden or mine. I was intrigued about the woman who came before me, and captivated by her love of the craft. We shared a way of inhabiting and understanding the world through storytelling. Me, as a journalist and essayist. Shareese, as a fiction writer and poet who died before she had a chance to publish. Since I couldn't read Shareese's work online, I asked Brandon to set aside some of her writing. I wanted to get a sense of her voice. "I'm sure she would love for you to read her stories," he said, hauling a giant cardboard box to my office. Inside the box were composition notebooks filled with poems, essays and short fiction she wrote during graduate school, along with her thoughts on writing. I wrestled with whether she would want me, the new wife, to have an all-access pass to her notebooks on craft. But when I told her sister I felt pulled to explore Shereese's work, she encouraged me. Even more compelling the words Shereese wrote seemed like a plea. "I'm leaving behind a trail of breadcrumbs in the form of good intentions," she wrote. In one binder, she'd even tucked a slip of paper with names, addresses and submission guidelines for several publishers. Almost like a roadmap to a destination only another writer could navigate. I'd always been drawn to handwritten remnants of a person's life. The chicken scratch in my grandmother's Bible, my mom's penciled captions on old photographs. The letters my sister wrote me when I studied in Spain. Handwritten words helped me feel closer to the person who wrote them. I wanted to know Shereese too, so I studied her notes like a forensic wordsmith, looking for clues. She wrote in black ballpoint ink with scripts so beautiful, it could have been its own font. Her writing spoke to me like we were in the same room. I could almost hear her saying, "I was here. Look at these letters. The curl in my G, the pause of the pen, the way I write with a mix of print and cursive, just like you." But her words stopped me cold. "Death, get ready to tangle with the living," she wrote. That passage came from her notes on a novel idea about two friends who were ripped from each other's lives when one of them unexpectedly died. She called life The Great Game Show, and the dead the disqualified contestants. "Maybe that explains my hang up in a nutshell. I want to play forever," she wrote. I felt like we were in a pas de deux between worlds. She's dead. I'm living. I wasn't interested in learning more about the life she shared with Brandon. That story ended before it began, just six months after they married. But as an investigative journalist, I was obsessed with her life as a writer. Which books she'd never finished reading, how her half written stories might have ended, whether she would have become an award winning novelist. I thumb through her books on craft: Phillip Lopate's Art of the Personal Essay, Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird, Joyce Carol Oates' The Faith of a Writer, with her penciled notes still legible on the margins. But when I discovered her dog eared copy of The Book of Questions, a title I also owned, with questions like, "Would you like to know the precise date of your death? And if you could choose your manner of death, what would it be?" circled in black Sharpie, I nearly dropped the book. I never met Shereese, but I could see myself in the philosophical question she posed in the margins, if not in the ones she circled. The date of death? March 24, 2006. The manner, according to her death certificate? Blunt impacts to the head and neck. A red Jeep Cherokee slammed into Shereese's blue Subaru Outback, flipping it over one and a half times, landing with the driver's side door flush with the concrete. The Jeep's driver, intoxicated and fresh from the casino at 8:05am, survived. Shereese was dead before paramedics arrived. Like a psychic detective working a decades-long cold case, I felt pulled to her stories. I skimmed through them first, then tucked them away in a cabinet. But they called me. Months and years later, I would get an ethereal nudge to go back in and page through them again. Shereese even showed up in my dreams, including one where she left behind stacks of handwritten pages for me to manage. I thought about writing a novel loosely based on our otherworldly connection. But as I delved more deeply into the notebooks Brandon brought to my office, my focus turned toward getting her writing published. She had dozens of half written stories, beginnings of novels, and poems so dark and foreboding they read as if she knew her life would be cut short. As if she were living with an eye toward the end. Reverent, rhapsodic, almost eulogistic. I sit here in my room of wonder, books stacked to the ceiling, many written by people who no longer live. What can I make of this? "The first thought that comes to mind is that death for them is a non-death, if death means silence," she wrote. "They continue to speak. Their words are audible to human ears, and that is their triumph. They stretch beyond the grave. Will I?" She had such talent, such grasp of the craft, and her words engulfed me like a leaf caught in a gust of wind. I read through her journals over lunch while idling in the school pickup line. I even reflected on her storylines instead of mine between meal prep and dinner time. At night, while Brandon on our three sons slept, I slipped seamlessly from the world Shereese no longer inhabited into the fictional ones she created. And I began to believe her conjecture that writers defy death. Their words stretch beyond the grave like a composite of their souls. Shereese's stories moved me. They challenged and inspired me. They also made me feel guilty. It wasn't just that I'd inherited her life, her husband, her dog, even almost unbelievably, her teaching job, but also that I had achieved her dream of publishing. I haven't been able to find a home for Shereese's work... yet. But published or not, Shereese was a writer. In the same way I connected to the authors of memoirs we both read and loved, her notes, belongings and books became a sort of physical memoir, one that didn't die with her. "Life is so precious, there is never enough of it. And when it breathes out, what is left will be the working of our hands," she wrote. "That's where I come full circle. It is the need to be known. The fear of not only be unknown, but of being unknown." I didn't connect to Shereese from the tributes left on her memorial page, or from the stories and memories Brandon and her loved ones shared. I came to know her through words on a page. Uncensored, raw, real. Like we were friends separated only by space and time. In that way, maybe she did defy death, like the authors we both loved- through her left behind journals and notes scribbled in the margins.

Allison Langer 9:17

Okay, I love Amy Paturel. Every story I've ever read by her, I just am always just entranced. She's an amazing, amazing writer. And, I mean, what I find amazing is this narrator was able to write about someone else, but includes so much of herself. And I find that a very difficult thing to do, because a lot of people want to write about their grandmother or their mom or something and I'm like, where's the narrator? But I feel like I really got to know our narrator through this story about Shereese.

Andrea Askowitz 9:53

Yeah, I wasn't even thinking about whether or not I wanted more of the narrator, because I guess I just got enough of the narrator. I'm in love with this story. I think it's so interesting and fascinating. But we do get- I like your question now, because what we do get about this narrator is like her- And she only mentioned it a little bit like, I don't know if she even called it guilt, but she inherited this woman's husband, dog, and even her job. But the part that she, I think, feels most about is that she's gotten this- this woman Shereese's dream to come true. She- our narrator- is a published writer. While Shereese...

Allison Langer 10:36

Well that's not exactly right. Shereese wanted to be the published narrator, so I don't think her dream came true. But she's looking to try to make that happen. And that's what she says, by trying to get her published.

Andrea Askowitz 10:48

Yeah, she's trying to get Shereese's stuff published. I want to talk about that in a second. But let me go back to that part.

Allison Langer 10:55

It's towards the end, she says, "But published or not, Shereese was a writer. In the same way I connected to the authors of memoirs we both read and loved, her notes, belongings and books became a sort of physical memoir, one that didn't die with her."

Andrea Askowitz 11:09

Yes, yeah, yeah. I'm talking about the part where our narrator says she inherited- she inherited her husband, her dog, and- but there was something there that now I can't find it.

Allison Langer 11:20

Let me read that paragraph. It says, "Shereese's stories moved me. They challenged and inspired me. They also made me feel guilty. It wasn't just that I'd inherited her life, her husband, dog and almost unbelievably her teaching job, but also that I achieved her dream of publishing."

Andrea Askowitz 11:36

Yeah, that's what I'm saying. So our narrator achieved Shereese's dream of publishing. And we learn so much about the narrator right there, because what she feels about that- and one thing that I do want to say, is that since this publication- and this- this is a re-airing of an essay that was published in LitHub, but what I also know is that this narrator got one of Shereese's poems published in LitHub. So Shereese is now a published author. I'm so excited for her.

Allison Langer 12:09

Posthumously, yeah, yeah, yeah. posthumously. That's cool.

Andrea Askowitz 12:13

That is cool. So just to say that, that- that did happen.

Allison Langer 12:16

Maybe that'll happen with us. Somebody will buy our shit, or manuscripts once we dead.

Andrea Askowitz 12:23

Isn't that what happens to all of- all artists who are ahead of their time? It is, it's what happens. I'll be cool with that. But I'd like to- I'd like to see some success now. Okay.

Allison Langer 12:33

Me too.

Andrea Askowitz 12:34

Putting it out there. Yeah. Okay, so can I start from the top about what I love so much about this? Yeah. Okay. So right away I am- I'm kind of in love with all the characters in this story. Brandon, and Shereese's sister. They're so generous. They are cool. Because it is a big ask. Can I read the handwritten work of your ex who died? Like that's a lot. And then we see Brandon just coming in with a big box filled with with Shereese's writing. I think that's beautiful. And then the sister is like, Yeah, I think she would like that. So I'm just- I love everybody so far.

Allison Langer13:15

Yeah. 100%.

Andrea Askowitz 13:16

Like, these are good people. I feel like I'm surrounded by really good people. So I just wanted to say that. Okay, and then what our narrator is doing, she's like, she's dropping breadcrumbs. One of the lines at the very top is, "I'm leaving behind breadcrumbs." That's a line from Shereese's writing. And Shereese is- this is like otherworldly, this story. And somehow, Shereese knew that she was going to die. She also wrote "Death, get ready to tangle with the living." That was from a novel Sharif was writing.

Allison Langer 13:53

Yeah.

Andrea Askowitz 13:54

And then our narrator uses this really cool French word?

Allison Langer 13:58

Pas de deux?

Andrea Askowitz 13:59

Pas de deux. She's in a pas de deux between two worlds. And I said- I totally, like, I mean, I want to make fun of the French because I'm really making fun of me for, like, being stupid and not really knowing what that means. But I totally get it, like, I get that she's like- our narrator Amy is like...

Allison Langer 14:17

It's a dance.

Andrea Askowitz 14:18

She is in a dance, right, with Shereese.

Allison Langer 14:22

So something that the listener's not seeing is the quotes. So sometimes it's hard when you're listening to know who's saying what, and we can see it because we see that it's in italics, or quotes, or whatever is going on in this essay. So if you were confused, maybe just go to LitHub and just check it out, and relisten or reread it or something like that.

Andrea Askowitz 14:46

And we'll also have the full transcript on our website, writingclassradio.com. But I want to right now read three quotes that were Shereese's quotes. The first one was one I just read but I'm gonna read it again. "Death get ready. to tangle with the living." That was from Shereese's novel. And then later, Shereese wrote, "Would you like to know the precise date of your death? If you could choose manner of death, what would it be?" That's what Shereese wrote. Oh, and then the narrator so elegantly told us exactly how Shereese died. And it was kind of brutal. But she just wrote it down. She just said it. And I- I am so thankful, because I wanted to know, and then she gave it to us. It's not part of the story. It's not really relevant. But it's one of those things that's like, maybe nagging at the reader or at the listener, like, wait, what? Why? How did she die? She was young. So we know she was in a car accident.

Allison Langer 15:45

There was one more quote, did you see the one at the end?

Andrea Askowitz 15:48

I didn't write down the quote, but I did write down Amy's words, which was, "She had an eye toward the end." So that was our narrator telling us that Shereese knew, on some level. Like she, she had, like- she must have known.

Allison Langer 16:02

Well, it says- Let me read it. "Life is so precious, there's never enough of it. And when it breathes out, what is left will be the workings of our hands. That's where I come full circle. It is the need to be known. The fear of not only the unknown, but of being unknown." That whole quote was Shereese's.

Andrea Askowitz 16:23

That hits me hard.

Allison Langer 16:24

Yeah.

Andrea Askowitz 16:24

Because I have a fear of being unknown. I mean, I'm also afraid of the unknown. That's gorgeous.

Allison Langer 16:31

No, I just think the thing is, this whole essay is amazing. It is not easy to write about other people. And to be able to pull in quotes from their writing, or things that they've said, and make it all work and make sense, and also have it pertain to you. I mean, this- this writer is really talented.

Andrea Askowitz 16:53

You made fun of me earlier, before we were on the air about asking the question, "Do writers defy death?" Because um, yeah, they do. That question is raised in this essay. And it is answered, because writers defy death. Yes, they do. And in this story, Shereese defied death. And that's why I think this is so brilliant. Make fun of me, go on.

Allison Langer 17:17

Another reason to write! Another reason to write. Get it down.

Andrea Askowitz 17:21

Damn, Amy.

Allison Langer 17:22

Thank you for listening. And thank you, Amy Paturel, for sharing your story.

Allison Langer 17:36

Writing class radio is hosted by me, Allison Langer.

Andrea Askowitz 17:39

And me, Andrea Askowitz.

Allison Langer 17:41

Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aidan Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Chandler. There's more writing class on our website, writingclassradio.com, including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats- which by the way, we have one coming up in December.

Andrea Askowitz 18:05

Yeah, talk about it. Yeah.

Allison Langer 18:07

So we only have, well, actually, we have two- three spots left. One in the house and two out of the house. So if you're interested in finding out more about what we do on our writing retreats, and what that looks like in the house, and where it is, and blah blah blah, it's going to be December 5th through the 10th, 2023. So jump on our website under classes and look up the Key Largo writing treat.

Andrea Askowitz 18:10

Let me just tell you something a week in Key Largo with the likes of us is fucking amazing. Just saying.

Allison Langer 18:31

Yeah. If you don't like us now, you will like us afterwards. Or if you like us, now, you're gonna love us. Right?

Andrea Askowitz 18:47

Do you think people don't like us?

Allison Langer 18:48

Well, they probably stopped listening by now.

Andrea Askowitz 18:51

That's true. If they're listening to this, they might like us. Thanks for listening to all this. Thanks.

Allison Langer 18:55

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our first draft weekly writers group. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays, 12 to 1 Eastern time, or Eduardo Wink Thursdays, eight to 9pm. Eastern time. You'll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. You can also join second draft on Thursday. I'm going to be facilitating that from 12 to 1 Eastern time. So that's where you get to bring in another draft, you know, a more worked-on draft for real edits, so you can try to get published. Like Amy Paturel. All that stuff is on our website. And if you're a business owner, entrepreneur, community activist, group that needs healing, or you want your team to write better, we can totally help. So check out all our classes on our website, writingclassradio.com. Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and the support from other writers. A new episode will drop every other Wednesday.

Andrea Askowitz 19:48

There's no better way to understand ourselves and each other than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What's yours?

Tara Sands (Voiceover) 19:59

Produced and distributed by the Sound Off Media Company.

00:0020:04

Show Notes Episode 163: Letters to My Son in Prison - Why Writing Matters

On this episode, we bring you a story by Ken Guidroz. Ken’s story shows us the importance of writing and sharing stories, especially with people we either don’t understand or who don’t understand us. Ken says writing to his son in prison ignited an honest exchange he never would have had without writing. This exchange changed their relationship forever.

Ken Guidroz served in the ministry, leading the Santa Clarita Church of Christ and designs specialty retirement plans for companies. He is the author of Beyond the 401(k): How Financial Advisors Can Grow Their Businesses with Cash Balance Plans And Letters to My Son in Prison: How a Father and Son Found Forgiveness for an Unforgivable Crime. Ken lives in Santa Clarita, California with his wife. You can find him on Instagram, at his website, or on Substack at Life, Faith, and the Pursuit of Happiness.

Writing Class Radio is hosted by Allison Langer and Andrea Askowitz. Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aiden Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler.

There’s more writing class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12-1 ET and/or Thursdays with Eduardo Winck 8-9pm ET. You’ll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. You can also sign up for Second Draft, which meets Thursdays 12-1 ET. This group is for writers looking for feedback on a more polished draft for publication. If you’re a business owner, community activist, group that needs healing, entrepreneur and you want to help your team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to www.Patreon.com/writingclassradio. Or sign up HERE for First Draft for a FREE Zoom link.

A new episode will drop every other WEDNESDAY. 

There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

Transcript

Allison Langer  0:14  
I'm Allison Langer.

Andrea Askowitz  0:16  
I'm Andrea Askowitz and this is Writing Class Radio. You'll hear true personal stories and learn how to write your own stories. Together, we produce this podcast, which is equal parts, parts and art. By heart, we mean the truth that in a story, by art we mean the craft of writing. No matter what's going on in our lives, Writing Class where we tell the truth, it's where we work out our shit. There is no place in the world like Writing Class that we want to bring you in.

Allison Langer  0:47  
Okay, today on our show, we are bringing you a story by Ken Guidroz. I cannot wait for you guys to hear the story and hear all about Ken and everything great he's doing so, but we felt this was a really important story, because it involves the importance of writing and why everyone needs to write. You'll hear why from Ken himself. Ken says writing to his son in prison ignited an honest exchange he would never have had without writing. All right, back with Ken story after the break.

Andrea Askowitz  1:24  
We're back. This is Andrea Askowitz and you're listening to Writing Class Radio. Up next is Ken Guidroz reading his story, Letters To My Son In Prison. 

Ken Guidroz  1:52  
At first, the letters to my son in prison were mostly updates on the weather and the family. But I quickly grew tired of the mundane. Over the months as drugs seeped out of his system and sobriety seeped in, my son Lucas revealed that the wreck his life had become he got despondent and struggled to see any future for himself. He was 28. Then one day he called and told me about a guy he'd met in the prison hallway named Preacher Man. He just stopped Lucas the day before and said, 'Hey, you don't look like you belong in here. Would you do?' 'Dad, you don't ask that', Lucas said. But this dude, he didn't care. He actually expected me to answer him. Lucas finally told him he'd killed a man in a car accident when he was high on heroin. Preacher Man said, 'Well, David killed a man too. 'David?' 'Yeah. David in the Bible'. I was shocked to hear Lucas even mentioned the Bible. Even though I'd raised him going to church and teaching him Bible stories, Lucas never showed much interest in religion. I knew that David had killed a man, but it had been years since I'd read the story. I was avoiding the Bible at that point in my life. Anytime I opened it, a flood of bad memories reminded me of what a failure I'd been as a father and as a man of faith. At the time, it wasn't just Lucas who was a mess, but also my other two sons. One was also lost in opioids. The other had been arrested for possession with intent to sell. My confidence and faith was on life support. After I hung up from Lucas, I walked to my bookshelf, wiped a thick coat of dust off my Bible and reread the David story. I got lost in the tale of lust, sex, pregnancy, lying, scheming, betrayal, and murder. It was better than a Stephen King novel. And the story was perfect for Lucas. A man hit the bottom but still recovered his life. So I wrote to Lucas about David. I went on for 30 pages, because every detail of his story seem to relate to Lucas. I ended the letter with the poem David wrote to God, 'My mistake is always before me. Create in me a pure heart, oh, God. My sacrifice is a broken spirit, a broken heart'. The next morning I reread it and worried, have I overdone it? Is this just too direct? I didn't care. I I was desperate to connect with a son who was desperate. A week later he wrote me this. 'Man, that letter you wrote on David was awesome. At first I couldn't believe how long it was. Pops, you sure can write a lot of words haha. I took it onto my cot, got comfortable, tried to shut out all the incessant yapping around me and read the entire thing from beginning to end. I could not put it down. I mean, seriously, to think that that was David and that was in the Bible. It just blew my mind. And, you know, I saw myself in David, his rationalizing, his blindness, his stupidity, his love, or should I say, lust for women. I can relate to all those things, but his recovery now that was awesome'. This letter started two years of feverish letter writing between us. Lucas went on to devour books by Hemingway, Dostoevsky and CS Lewis. He'd write me six and seven page letters about how his mind was changing, and how he saw the world differently and how he didn't want to be the man he used to be. On the two year anniversary of the accident, he wrote the widow of the victim a five page, elegant, heart wrenching apology. He had no way of knowing if she ever got it, but in a way, it didn't really matter. He'd written what he needed to write, if not for her, than for him, or maybe just for God. Around that time, he wrote me a haunting, beautifully written letter, contrasting his daily life with mine. I cried when I got it. Letters became for him and for me, an outlet, a release a way to say things we'd never say in person. I wrote him. 'Look, I know we've been through 10 years of hell together. But maybe now things can be different. Maybe this whole crazy experience you've been through and this letter writing mania we've been on can be the start of something new for us. And can I go out on a limb here? Maybe we can even have something amazing. Something few fathers and sons ever have. Maybe we can say things to each other that fathers and sons never say'. The next letter, and the next and every letter I got proved I was right. Lucas got vulnerable with me. He bore his soul every time. I got this letter the night he finished the book Crime and Punishment. 'Dad I had tears streaming down my face when I finished the book. I turned off my reading light, closed the book and laid it on my chest. It was dead silent. Everyone was asleep. And I just stared at the ceiling thinking about my life. Like the character in the book, I was being raised back to life. I was going through a gradual transition from one world to another. It was such a strange feeling to be completely overwhelmed, but completely content. I'm at peace with where I am, with who I am, with why I'm here and what my life is becoming'. When Lucas walked through our front door on the day of his release, he had a large plastic garbage bag slung over his shoulder. After we hugged I asked, 'what's in the bag?'. He looked at me with a smile and said those are my letters. And he clutched the bag.

Allison Langer  9:29  
I've heard this story. I've read the book. Ken reached out to me because we met ages ago, like years ago before just when he started to write I think and reached out what I work on a couple of stories with him and I think this was one of them. And then he ended up taking this story and turning it into a book and working with a company and I thought it was really important that he write an essay about it to air on the podcast because I'm obsessed with the criminal justice system, but not just that, I want people to see people who screw up and sort of reclaim their life. And what does it do to the people around them, the families, and we often don't get stories from the family members of people who are incarcerated. And I think it's just a really interesting thing. In this situation, it ended up being a positive thing. I mean, obviously, it didn't start that way, when you know, since I've read the book, I know the story, but like having your son arrested and in kill somebody, and like, the whole thing is devastating and he writes about that really well. But what happened afterwards to them is really beautiful. They were able to reconnect through words and letters and and in the power of writing. So that's what I thought would be really cool for our listeners to hear.

Andrea Askowitz  10:46  
Yeah, cool. I want to talk about the things that I think this narrator did really well and one of them is it's very clear to me or maybe because I've read it a bunch of times within this reading, it's so clear to me what this story is about. And the way the narrator, he kind of lays it down right from the very beginning. He even starts with talking about the letters that he wrote to his son at the very beginning, were about the weather, and he was tired of the mundane. So the story starts with the mundane and then it ends up being about the very deep, emotional, real things this father and son share. And he says there's a line in the story. That is like in a line, what is this story about, 'letters became a release a way to say things we'd never say in person'. They it's like, sometimes it's like, wait, what's the story about? Well, in this case, the narrator wrote it in a line. It's about what happened while my son was in jail, or in prison. And what happened was that we wrote letters to each other that enabled us to say things we would never say, if we were just speaking, it's there. So that's so cool. I thought that was really good. I thought it was really excellent to hear exactly what the son did. And he also just told us, and he told us in a really interesting way, because there was a Preacher Man was like, 'What are you doing in here?' And then so his son had to tell him, he killed a man in a car accident, while high on cocaine, heroin actually. This theater admitted a lot of things. He also admitted to the next awesome thing that I thought he did, which was get really vulnerable with us, he admitted how he said that his faith and his confidence, I think we're on life support, because all three of his sons are going through so much. So we just felt like, shit, dad. And I appreciated that he just said it. So that was cool.

Allison Langer  12:48  
Yeah, very cool. That's, that's the one of the hardest things. I mean, we talk about this all the time. Like, sometimes the kids want to come clean, but then the parents can't handle what that looks like.

Andrea Askowitz  13:00  
Means about them. What it means about us. 

Allison Langer  13:03  
Exactly. 

Andrea Askowitz  13:03  
Hi, I'm a mom. Right. 

Allison Langer  13:05  
Yeah. So it's not easy. And he did it really well, yeah.

Andrea Askowitz  13:10  
He did, he did. And that led into his relationship with God. So we know that the narrator, he liked dusted off his Bible, we know that he was a man of faith, but that his faith was lacking for a bit. But then he brings in Bible stories, and then so does his son. And then when his son wrote the letter to the woman whose husband died, he wrote the letter for himself or maybe for God. That was sort of a callback, but it was it just showed me who these people were and I appreciated that, I just understood them. And I understood that effort.

Allison Langer  13:50  
When I first saw this essay, way, way, way back then when before the book and everything, I was like oh God, I don't know about all this God stuff. It's really distracting for me, but I will tell you that now in the book, he explains exactly why there was a gap for him in the faith challenged and all that kind of stuff, and why he sort of removed himself from the church. And it's, it's really interesting and, and although his situation is very specific, I feel that I've heard from so many people in Writing Class, how they've sort of disengaged from the church based on something that happened in the church that they expected and, and so I think people will really relate to that. And in the story, the situation is also something maybe many people, most people have not had to deal with a child who ends up going to prison for killing somebody. However, we all as parents suffered disappointments in ourselves and in our children. And because of our parenting, the decisions we make the career paths we take and I just find it super, super universal.

Andrea Askowitz  14:59  
I want to kind of make that point but in an in the opposite way, which is I am not a religious person. But I totally can understand even though I'm not I don't have this experience, I can understand questioning, hardcore, when everything is not going your way, in a really major way. So I can understand that what this narrator did, like he questioned God, and not because of anything that happened within the church, but what was happening in his life outside. And that to me just felt also strangely universal. Like, don't we say this all the time? Like the specific is universal, the more specific the more universal. And even though that was more specific in a way that doesn't, doesn't touch me my experience, I still understood it. I did. I understood questioning everything. 

Allison Langer  15:43  
I want to also talk about the writing. He uses really great dialogue, I find. Like we get you know, his conversations also involve conversations over the phone sometimes. Or in a letter, we get them both. So we feel like we're on the phone or receiving these letters. I just thought that's really good. Some people tell tell, tell, tell, tell, but by sharing the dialogue, and the passages and portions of the letters and stuff like that, I felt really included, did you?

Andrea Askowitz  16:11  
Yeah, and dialog is a moment where it's seen. So in the parlance of Writing Class, that's a show. That's a moment of showing, those dialogues are showing because it's bringing the scene to life. Good, good job on, good job, Ken.

Allison Langer  16:29  
And especially bringing in his son's letters. I just loved getting the voice of the son, because how else are we really going to get to know the son and who he really is? Through his voice instead of just the dads. 

Andrea Askowitz  16:45  
Oh, cool. Yeah, I thought that was cool. Now, I want to know how long the book is because the son was like, you sure can write a lot of words, Pops.

Allison Langer  16:55  
He had a good editor. It wasn't me. It was it was a it was a company, but he had a great editor. This book was organized so well. It was visually really cool. It you know, and I just read the manuscript that came to me, so I didn't actually get a hard copy.

Andrea Askowitz  17:13  
But wait, isn't the book coming out in a minute? It's coming out, right. But wait, before we get to that, because I want you to tell us everything about the book, I wanted to say one other thing that I really liked about the story, which was the landing, thought it landed really well. 'What's in the bag?', it's his letters. Like he's carrying these letters. These letters mattered so much to the narrator, son.

Allison Langer  17:34  
That he brought them all home to keep and save and reread and all like that. Yeah. Yeah, no, it's a perfect essay and and sometimes people go on and on, like, I didn't care what happened when he got home, I didn't care what's going on now. That's not what this essay is about. This essay is about communication and how important this reconnection with his dad and with his son meant, well, basically, the reconnection with his dad meant to his son if he brought home all those letters, but it's also clear throughout the entire essay, how important it was for this dad to really reconnect with his son, and I did not feel judgment. I did not feel ridicule, like, this guy was just like, man, you know, my kids screwed up, and, and he's gonna get himself back together like David. And it doesn't mean it's the end, when you hit rock bottom, there's always a way back up and I just think that's a beautiful message for all of us.

Andrea Askowitz  18:27  
Ah, yeah and also, another beautiful message is that writing is that this, this essay is a testament to writing. Because you really can say things in writing, that you might not be able to say out loud. So everybody needs to write. That's what he's saying.  

Allison Langer  18:44  
Yeah, definitely and share, because now it's going to really, I think, just by hearing this story and sharing it with the world, it's going to really help other people who might be going through the same things. And I know that's not the reason to write, but it's a consequence of good writing.

Andrea Askowitz  18:59  
Tell us about his book, and when is it coming out? What's the name of it? How can we get it?

Allison Langer  19:03  
Okay, so you can buy the book anywhere you buy your books, and if you can't find it, just click on our show notes, because we will have links to all of that to his website and a place to buy the book, for sure. You can buy it on his website, which is can kenguidros.com and there'll be all that information on spelling and everything. The launch date is September 6 2023. It was an assistant self publishing by a company named Bublish, B-U-B-L-I-S-H. I don't know them, but he had a great experience so if that's your gig, go for it. Reach out to Ken he'd probably love to hear whatever you have to say he's awesome and I I just am so excited for people to read his book. I loved it like crazy.

Andrea Askowitz  19:49  
Thank you for listening and thank you can Ken Guidros for sharing your story

Writing Class Radio is hosted by me Andrea Askowitz. 

Allison Langer  20:05  
And me, Alison Langer.

Andrea Askowitz  20:07  
Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminsky, Chloe Emond-Lane and Aidan Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Schandler. There's more Writing Class on our website, writingclassradio.com including stories we study editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join Allison on Tuesdays, noon to 1 Eastern or Eduardo Wink Thursdays 8 to 9pm Eastern. You'll write to a prompt and share what you wrote.

Allison Langer  20:49  
We have a second draft class on Thursdays 12- 1 Eastern Time, Andrea has been teaching it but she's moving her people to a final draft. So we have all these classes listed on our website and there's descriptions of each so if you're interested in classes, just jump on find out what they are find out how if they would work for you, and if they will make your writing better. 

Andrea Askowitz  21:10  
And if you have any questions, you can email either one of us, Andrea at writingclassradio.com. I'll answer your questions as long as you're not annoying. And I do want to say that that second draft has some openings, because I opened up a new class, which is actually full. But anyways, if you are a business owner, entrepreneur, community activist group that needs healing, or just want to help your team write better, we can help check out all our classes on our website, writingclassradio.com. Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write and the support from other writers. A new episode will drop every other Wednesday.

Allison Langer  21:56  
There's no better way to understand ourselves and each other than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What's yours? 

Tara Sands (Voiceover)  22:08  
Produced and distributed by the Sound Off Media Company.

Show Notes Episode 162: Do As I Say Not As I Do

On this episode, you’ll hear a story by our own Allison Langer. You may have read her story in HuffPost, where she was published on Jan 16, 2023. The story ran with this title: People Say I'm A Grief Expert, But When My Friend's Husband Died, I Did Something I Deeply Regret.

Allison Langer is a Miami native with a University of Miami MBA, as well as a writer and single mom to three children, ages 13, 16 and 18. She is a private writing coach, taught memoir writing in prison and has been published in The Washington Post, Mutha Magazine, Scary Mommy, Ravishly, Modern Loss, NextTribe, and HuffPost. Allison’s stories and voice can be heard on Writing Class Radio, a podcast she co-produces and co-hosts that has been downloaded more than 750,000 times. Allison is currently working on a memoir.

Writing Class Radio is hosted by Allison Langer and Andrea Askowitz. Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aiden Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler

There’s more writing class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12-1 ET and/or Thursdays with Eduardo Winck 8-9pm ET. You’ll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. Or Second Draft on Thursday 12-1 ET where students bring in an edited draft for feedback and help getting published. If you’re a business owner, community activist, group that needs healing, entrepreneur and you want to help your team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to www.Patreon.com/writingclassradio. Or sign up HERE for First Draft for a FREE Zoom link.

A new episode will drop every other WEDNESDAY. 

There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

Transcript

Allison Langer  0:15  
 I'm Alison Langer.

Andrea Askowitz  0:16  
I'm Andrea Askowitz.

Allison Langer  0:17  
And this is Writing Class Radio. You'll hear true personal stories and learn how to write your own stories. Together, we produce this podcast which is equal parts heart and art. By heart we mean the truth in a story and by art, we mean the craft of writing. No matter what's going on in our lives, Writing Class is where we tell the truth, it's where we work out our shit. There's no place in the world like Writing Class and we want to bring you in.

Andrea Askowitz  0:45  
Today on our show, we bring you a story by our very own Alison Langer. You may have read her story and Huffington Post where she was published on January 16th 2023. On this episode, we're talking about being the biggest asshole in a story, but not to your editor. We're also talking about writing to the why, figuring out why you do what you do. Back with Alison's story after the break, we're back. Here's Alison reading her story. People say I'm a grief expert, but when my friend's husband died, I did something I deeply regret.

Allison Langer  1:38  
When my daughter McClain died 14 years ago, I was dubbed the expert on grief. McClain was 16 months old when she was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect that affected breathing and swallowing. A week before surgery, she choked on a french fry. On October 10th 2008, she died. Since then, I've been the person family and friends consult whenever someone dies. I'm asked what to say to the grieving family and what might help them. At funerals, I nod to the other parents who have lost children. We are expressionless and numb. I listen to the eulogies, remembering my own words and how it felt to be the mother of the guest of honor. I know what they're going through and what lies ahead. When my best friend's husband died, I still managed to screw up. Marshall had a heart attack in his sleep. Morgan woke up to his unusually loud exhalations. When she nudged him. something felt wrong. She yelled to her children. 17 year old Walker started CPR, Kirksey her 18 year old daughter called 911, but Marshall, a 61 year old man who worked out every day was dead. Last week, my girlfriends and I brought dinner to Morgan's. Our small group of friends has known each other ever since high school. We talk regularly and play cards or dominoes every few months. I made gluten free eggplant Rollatini, vegan but with real cheese on half because Morgan likes real cheese. So if he brought a salad with cranberries, arugula and homemade lemon vinegrette. Morgan shared a Cabernet from a winery she and Marshall discovered while traveling around Italy for their 20th anniversary. I thought about Marshall the entire time. His energy hung in the air calm and kind, just like always, but I didn't bring them up. We were at Morgan's for three hours and nobody mentioned Marshall's death. I wanted to appear happy, I didn't want to cry and ruin the mood and yet I knew better. I'd been here. I knew that being the happy friend didn't work for someone newly grieving. I knew it was too hard to hear about others' happiness. The week after McClain's funeral my girlfriend's brought food and wine. I sat at the dining room table, dominoes propped up in front of each person wanting them to leave so I could cry alone. I zoned out, floating above the table wishing I could reverse time and schedule McClain surgery for a week earlier. My friends talked about which preschools were better and who was hosting Thanksgiving dinner. I believe they too thought it was best to be as normal as possible for my sake, but I didn't want to talk about normal things. I wanted to talk about McClain. I wanted to complain about how cranky she was the last time I took her photo. How she just started saying Mama, how pale and tiny she was when I signed the papers to donate her organs. I wanted to tell them I didn't care who got her parts, I wanted them back. As my friends chatted about their kids I wondered why they got to keep theirs and I didn't. I couldn't understand why they were laughing, living life as if nothing had changed. What I know now is that life hadn't changed for them. They'd consoled me on the day they figured I needed consoling the most, but they didn't live with the pain like I did and didn't know what would be lost for me. When the card game was over at Morgan's and she was putting the decks away, I asked how Walker and Kirksey were doing, how she was doing. I've been sorting through the bills, Morgan said, Marshall's mess. That could have been my opening to let her talk about her husband, but before she could finish answering my question, my phone rang and I took the call, kissed everyone goodbye, grabed my empty dish and drove home. A few days later, I ran into Ashley who was also at the dinner. She told me Morgan was hurt because no one wanted to talk about Marshall. Shame swept through my body and settled in my chest. Tears filled my eyes as it pushed against my heart. Ugh, I screwed up, me of all people. I knew better. In the days since I've been trying to understand why I wasn't a better friend. Why didn't I talk about Marshall? Why didn't I do what I knew she needed the most. Maybe it's because I don't want the role of grief expert. That's a role nobody wants and nobody can fill, but that's not it. It hit me in the shower where I do my best thinking. I hadn't mentioned Marshall because each loss bring backs the pain, the numbness, the person missing from my own family. I'm afraid if I let myself feel that pain, it will destroy me all over again. If I could go back a week, I would have let the phone call I took go to voicemail. I would have sat there all night if that's what Morgan wanted. I would have taken my cues from her, which is what you should do with a grieving person, as they should be the one to decide if and when they want to talk, but no matter what I would have made myself available and open. I would have made it clear that I was up for anything she needed. If she wanted to just cry, I'd let her cry. If she wanted to drone on and on about her husband's mess. I would have let her drone. If she wanted to talk I would have asked about the funny things Marshall said during their travels in Italy. Instead of leaving I would have brought him back to life if only for an evening and celebrated the incredible man he was. From what I've experienced grieving people want to talk about their person. Maybe if the settings right and if you're at their house, girlfriend's gathered around drinking wine, their dog looking for a lap where there once was one. The setting is often right. If you're at a March of Dimes fundraiser with a roomful of strangers, you might want to wait until you're in the Uber home. But I suggest a time when your friend isn't wearing a full face of makeup. If you're unsure whether your friend wants to talk, listen or be alone, pay attention to the signs. A yawn, a stare or silence could mean it's time for you to leave. Do not say goodbye while on your phone. The call may seem like a slight to your hosts Do not leave with a sad, pathetic look on your face ― eyebrows squinched together, head tilted, mouth frowny. Nobody feels comforted by that look. Nobody. When it’s time, instead of giving in to the fear and hiding your emotions, show your friend you are missing him too. It’s OK to cry.    You don’t have to have the right words ― there are no right words. You’re not going to be able to make it all better. It probably won’t be better for a long, long time. Maybe never. But you can be there and sometimes ― often ― that is enough. And you can make it clear that you will be there, that you’re just a phone call or a text away, if they need you. Check on them ― and not just for the few days or week after their loved one has passed. Grief sticks around, usually much longer than we talk about. Invite them to things. Be OK if they say no. But keep asking.    This is what I wish people had done for me after I lost my child. This is what I wish I’d done for my friend. But we’re only human, and grief is a tricky, difficult thing. Even those of us who know it well can end up doing something that feels wrong. And every death is different. Every person left behind is different. But the one thing that is always the same is that we can make the offer to be there, however that looks or feels for that grieving person, and that will be more than enough ― it’ll be a gift.

Andrea Askowitz  9:15  
Wow. One thing that I think this story does so so well is asking the narrator, you asked yourself why. Why did I act like that? And then in the exploration of why it sort of like it goes on one level. It's like, why'd I do that? Because I didn't want to ruin the mood. Like I didn't want to cry. But then while the narrator was in the shower, she realized the real real why and that was she didn't want to dredge up all this pain again for herself and that is to me what a story should do. Its figures out why I acted the way I acted and so often it's why did I act like an asshole and what I love so much Allison, I love this so much about your writing all the time, but what I, in this case, I just love that, like the narrator is not afraid to just like, admit that she made this really big mistake. The ending of this story is also it's a cautionary tale. And the narrator's able to tell me, the reader what to do, because she's lived it like she starts from the very beginning and tells us that she is a grief expert. She doesn't want to be a grief expert, but she is and she proves that she is because she tells us that her daughter died. And then she tells us that she knows exactly how it feels for anyone who loses someone like she's like making eye contact with people at other funerals and like knowing exactly how they're feeling like I trust that this narrator knows what is going on for people when someone dies. Then she shows us how close she is with her friend with the details of like the salad and the vegan and just like hanging out, I thought that was really well done because we know what they're like together. She also bounced back and forth between her friends hanging out when her daughter died and then her friends hanging out when her friend's husband died. So we have like these two parallel scenes going on, which I thought was brilliantly done. So she's at her friend's house after her friend's husband died and she didn't bring him up for three hours. Like she recognizes what she did. Then she leaves then she wishes she could do it again. Because she wishes she could go back and not take the phone call that she took right after there was a moment where her friend was about to talk about him. She just really wishes that she didn't walk away, but we understand why she did. Because she has been through it herself. Amazing. Amazing. Amazing.

Allison Langer  12:07  
Thank you. I will say that when I sent it in to the Huffington Post, and I feel like I sent it- 

Andrea Askowitz  12:15  
I think it's Noah Mickelson. Okay, go ahead. 

Allison Langer  12:17  
Oh, yeah, I sent it to him first. Yeah, cuz I was like, this seems like something he might like. And I want it to be published in the Huffington Post. I really wanted that. So when I sent it, he's so amazing. Like, within minutes, he was like, love it, add 300 words at the end. Tell me why. Tell me tell me what you wish you had done differently. So I quickly banged it out and then he even wanted more and that's not really necessarily our structure, at Writing Class Radio, we don't tend to give advice. We don't really share cautionary tales. 

Andrea Askowitz  12:48  
It's not our style. It's not our style. 

Allison Langer  12:50  
Yeah. But I really liked it so much more. And what was also interesting, I thought, I mean, I'm looking at it now and I was like, Ah, I could cut I could cut like you and I just love to cut. What's interesting is that so many people responded to this and not just because Morgan has, like 500 people on her Christmas list and is such a good friend to everyone, but is because I think this story resonates with a lot of people, especially as we're getting up there and age and people are dying. Our friends families are you know, and how do we be there for somebody and no one really has it down.

Andrea Askowitz  13:26  
No one knows what to do, but you laid it out. No one knows what to do when someone dies. And you really told us in this story, you told us you were like take basically the main takeaway that I have, if I'm in this position where someone I love loses someone they love, is I'm going to wait for their cues. I'm going to be like, totally observant it to see if they want to talk about whoever they lost. And if they do, I'm going to try my best to be there.

Allison Langer  13:55  
If I have to say one word it show up. Just show up. People are like I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do, just show up. Just be there, that's it,. And then the rest of the stuff, then you listen, you know, and then like you say you wait for the cues, but I mean, there's so many times like, people get bad news, just show up. Just do it. It doesn't have to be perfect, but it shows that person that you care. And you know, we're there, but I did this shit thing when I was there. So you show up and then you try to listen. So I just I don't know.

Andrea Askowitz  14:29  
Well, you said it twice in the piece where you said take the cues, but you said differently a little while later, but it was the same idea. It's just like wait, wait to see if it's a good time and it probably is a good time. 

Allison Langer  14:43  
Yeah. Yeah. 

Andrea Askowitz  14:45  
I did think the ending was a little too long. So I think that it is the style of Huffington Post and I do think that I love being told exactly how to handle this situation, but I did also that was the one thing I noticed, and maybe it's just a style thing. I mean, the whole story is so well structured and so beautiful and sad and oh.

Allison Langer  15:10  
Well, what I think is really funny is that when Noah sent it back, and he's like, 'okay, this is going in, if you don't like it, that's fine. We don't have to run'. But basically, there was like, it's my way, or you can leave and he was very nice about it, but it's like, these editors just like us. Like when we're editing something, it's like, yes, you can have your opinion, but if we don't like it, it's out. So keep your opinion, if you want, but that's not going to work for me. So I was like, I don't care like if it has a couple extra sentences I would normally take out I couldn't care less. Whatever works. 

Andrea Askowitz  15:42  
Well, you have grown, you have grown a lot as a writer. This is this is new.

Allison Langer  15:50  
He didn't cut anything out. He just added so I'm cool with that. 

Andrea Askowitz  15:54  
Oh I dont know I think you're cool, you would have been cool if he cut stuff too. You've learned that this is one way of telling this story. There are a million ways to tell the story, like you're not precious anymore. And so you've become not an asshole to your editor. It's really, it's really lovely. Being being your editor, sometimes, it is. It's good. You've evolved.

Allison Langer  16:18  
Now when you send me edits, I still cut you out. I still take a walk around the block. Actually, sometimes I don't take a, I don't need the walk around the block anymore, I just read it and I got alright. She might be right here. And I just so yeah, you've taken a few steps out of my tracker. 

Andrea Askowitz  16:38  
Yay. 

Allison Langer  16:39  
But I think it's hard to earn trust, I do. Some of these publications obviously, if you're trying to get in, you got to trust them. Or you don't apply or you don't go or whatever, but like any random person is it's hard to trust somebody else when you have ideas of what you think something should be. And the bottom line is maybe just see what somebody's done and what you like, and if you like their style, then you you you submit to them, but if you don't, don't waste their time.

Andrea Askowitz  17:06  
Thank you, Alison, for writing and sharing this story. And thank you for listening.

So Writing Class Radio is hosted by me Andrea Askowitz. 

Allison Langer  17:25  
And me Alison Langer. 

Andrea Askowitz  17:27  
Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminsky, Chloe Emond-Lane and Aidan Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler. There's more Writing Class  on our website, including stories we study editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. If you want to write with us every week, you can join our first draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join Allison on Tuesdays noon to one Eastern and or Thursdays with Eduardo Wink, eight to nine pm Eastern. You'll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. If you're a business owner, community activist groups that needs healing entrepreneur, or anyone who just wants to help their team write better. Check out all the classes we offer on writingclass radio.com. Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to writingclass radio.com. A new episode will drop every other Wednesday.

Allison Langer  18:41  
There's no better way to understand ourselves and each other than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story, what's yours? 

Tara Sands (Voiceover)  18:55  
Produced and distributed by the Sound Off Media Company.

Show Notes Episode 161: You Look Great BECAUSE You’ve Aged

On this episode, we bring you a story by our own Andrea Askowitz. A version of this essay was published April 2023 on CNN and titled What Justine Bateman Gets Exactly Right About Beauty. You’ll hear tips on how to bring in outside evidence for a more effective opinion piece and how to use the news stories, popular in the media, to create a personal essay.

Andrea Askowitz has been published in The New York Times, Salon, The Rumpus, Huffington Post, Glamour, AEON, The Writer, Manifest-Station, Mutha, Washington Post, CNN, NPR, PBS, and the anthologies, Looking Queer, All that Glitters, and forthcoming, Stained: An Anthology of Writing About Menstruation. She is the author of the memoir My Miserable, Lonely, Lesbian Pregnancy and the Editor of Badass: True Stories, The Double Album. Andrea is the Executive Producer and Host of Writing Class Radio, a podcast that airs true, personal stories and gives tips on how to write stories. 

Writing Class Radio is hosted by Allison Langer and Andrea Askowitz. Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aiden Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler

There’s more writing class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12-1 ET and/or Thursdays with Eduardo Winck 8-9pm ET. You’ll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. Or Second Draft on Thursday 12-1 ET where students bring in an edited draft for feedback and help getting published. If you’re a business owner, community activist, group that needs healing, entrepreneur and you want to help your team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to www.Patreon.com/writingclassradio. Or sign up HERE for First Draft for a FREE Zoom link.

A new episode will drop every other WEDNESDAY. 

There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Transcript

Allison Langer  0:00  
I'm Alison Langer. 

Andrea Askowitz  0:16  
I'm Andrea Askowitz and this is Writing Class Radio. You'll hear true personal stories and learn how to write your own stories. Together, we produce this podcast, which has equal parts heart and art. By heart, we mean the truth in a story. By art, we mean the craft of writing. No matter what's going on in our lives, writing class is where we tell the truth. It's where we work out our shit. There's no place in the world like writing class and we want to bring you in. 

Allison Langer  0:45  
Today on our show, we bring you a story by our very own delightful, intelligent -

Andrea Askowitz  0:53  
Go on. 

Allison Langer  0:53  
Very productive, Andrea Askowitz. A version of this story was published in April of this year 2023 on CNN. We're going to talk about how to bring in outside evidence, you know, like using, like some other information other than what's in our own brains about our own selves, like actual research and we'll also talk about using the news to create a story. 

Andrea Askowitz  1:19  
And I'll just say that this was really hard for me, because the best research I ever do is just like reading back in my own journals. 

Allison Langer  1:25  
Well, that's kind of more than what I do. So you're a step ahead of me. 

Andrea Askowitz  1:29  
You don't even read back on your own journals? 

Allison Langer  1:31  
No. Why? Old news by by moving forward, I guess unless, like, I'm pressed to have to read something for class or, you know, bring something to a retreat that I'm like, 'Oh, God, what do I have?' Because please don't make me dig into my brain and start all over. 

Andrea Askowitz  1:45  
Really? 

Allison Langer  1:46  
Yeah. 

Andrea Askowitz  1:46  
Like sometimes when I'm looking at a story, I consult my old journals to see how I felt, you don't, do that? 

Allison Langer  1:51  
I haven't. 

Andrea Askowitz  1:52  
Wow.

Allison Langer  1:54  
No. No and I think it's because if it's been five years, 10 years, I'm looking at it from a different perspective. So actually, maybe that's why you do do it. Because then you can go back to the moment things like the shit hit the fan. And then you can see wow, this is how I've evolved. I can look back on it with the perspective. So actually, okay, maybe you're right. Maybe it's good idea. All right back with Andrea's story. After the break. We're back. This is Alison Langer, and you're listening to Writing Class Radio. Up next is Andrea Askowitz reading her story, titled by CNN. It's called 'What Justine Bateman Gets Exactly Right About Beauty'. Or we can use Andrea's title which is 'You Look Great Because You've Aged'. I can see why CNN gets the big bucks.

Alright, Andrea hit it.

Andrea Askowitz  2:51  
Justine Bateman, a star whose age I’m approaching, played Mallory Keaton on “Family Ties” in the 1980s as a teenager. In her early 40s, she says, she typed her name into Google for research, and the search engine auto-populated “looks old.”   Bateman, now 57, said she was incredulous. “I couldn’t see what they were talking about,” she recently told “60 Minutes Australia,” adding that the way her face has changed represents authority.   She said she likes seeing herself as a different person than the teen she played on “Family Ties.”   But Bateman didn’t come to terms with the public’s negative perception of her aging face overnight.   I recently searched my own name online. No one is out there calling me old, but not because I don’t look old. At 54, I do. Apparently, for too many in American society, that’s not OK.   At a party recently, I ran into a friend I knew in college. Thirty-five years ago, she was adorable — full cheeks and a giant smile. I had full cheeks back then, too.   “You look great,” my friend said to me. “You haven’t aged.”   I took it in. I said thank you and felt good for a second.   But here’s the thing: I have aged. Thirty-five years. I weigh about the same as I did in college, but that weight is distributed differently now. I no longer have the baby-fat cheeks. My smile lines never go away. My hair, once black, is now more gray than black. My hair used to curl in perfect ringlets. Now, it’s a frayed mop. Everyone — and I mean everyone I know or even meet once — is quick to suggest a hair product.  My mom has loosened up on her hair-dye campaign because she knows it’s a lost cause. She went hard about five years ago, when I was nearing 50. Back then she thought I’d want to try to stay young-looking. She said, “Dye that mop. You look like an aging hippie.”  The truth is, I look older since the last time my friend and I saw each other. The other truth is, I look better, at least to me.   I never felt beautiful growing up. I felt bulky and awkward in my clothes. I relied on other charms. I feel cheated because now that I feel beautiful, most people can’t see how beautiful I am. They can only see my age. I’m not just talking about the beauty that comes with confidence. Frankly, I look better physically. Now, I like looking like an aging hippie, and tight jeans and a T-shirt just fit.  My friend looks better now, too. She has the same big smile and friendly demeanor, but there is something about her face that I like more. I didn’t stare. I don’t know exactly what about her face is more pleasing, but it is.  What wasn’t pleasing to me is what happened in February after Madonna appeared at the 2023 Grammy Awards. The internet went crazy over the work Madonna had done to her face. Madonna tried to defend her position in an Instagram post, writing, “I am happy to do the trailblazing so that all the women behind me can have an easier time in the years to come.”   I consider Madonna one of the most influential leaders of my generation, a cohort including my friend — and Bateman.       When Madonna’s book “Sex” was published in 1992, I was 24. I had just come out as a lesbian. The book was scandalous — pictures of Madonna fully naked, explicit sex shots, homosexuality across the pages. Whatever you thought about the book then, Madonna changed cultural perceptions of sex and all kinds of sexual expression. She helped paved the way for queer people, including me.   Madonna clearly sees herself in a leadership role, too. Madonna’s fake face, though, is bad leadership.  But I don’t expect Madonna to carry the burden of influencing society’s views on age and beauty alone.   During her acceptance speech at the 95th Academy Awards in March, Oscar best actress winner Michelle Yeoh, 60, said, “Ladies, don’t let anybody tell you you are ever past your prime.”  And best supporting actress winner Jamie Lee Curtis, 64, called herself “an old lady” in an E! News interview on the red carpet ahead of the Oscars event. She said her goal in life was simply to say, “Relax, you are enough.”  Bateman also told “60 Minutes Australia” she wanted women to stop being consumed with how they look and to get out there and live their lives. “Forget about your face,” she said.      Attitudes are changing because of Hollywood stars like Yeoh, Curtis and Bateman. But we non-celebrities also play a part, too.   If we can’t stop talking about looks altogether, let’s at least stop saying, “You look great — you haven’t aged.”   I tried a similar approach with my friend at the party — something radical. “You look great because you’ve aged,” I told her.   And like that, we changed the dynamic around aging, at least in that moment. Because she agreed with me.    

Allison Langer  8:14  
This Narrator really does walk the walk I'm sure I'm one of those people who have said dye that mop and a suggested products and all that kind of stuff, but this narrator doesn't care. She's really happy with who she is and it's really nice. It's really nice to be around and I'll tell you why also, is because when you're around somebody who's happy with themselves, they're not judging you. But when you're around somebody with the Botox and the fake everything, it's just like, 'Oh, God, what are they thinking of me?' If I don't have all that, and so it's difficult. It's difficult to associate all the time with with people who are trying so hard to grasp on to their their youth. So it's if more more people were like this narrator then more of us would be okay with how we look. So okay, that's not about the writing that's about the story. What we love to do is talk about the writing. This narrator did a perfect job of bringing in the news and it's examples and all that kind of stuff. So and very great research. So I just kind of want to ask her like, well, what went into all that research? And how did it come about? And I want to learn more about the process. 

Andrea Askowitz  9:27  
When I see someone who has worked on on their face or something or someone who's like really trying to fight against age. I don't think 'oh are they judging me?' But I do judge them. I do. It's not nice. I do. I mean, I wondered though, I wanted to ask you if the way that I described Madonna in this story, did you understand? Like, I wonder if if someone who didn't see the whole like I just saw tons of pictures of her in the news and and the on Instagram. 

Allison Langer  9:59  
I haven't seen her face. I haven't Googled her or anything, not even through this piece and seeing it and looking at it and all that kind of stuff. I already know. 

Andrea Askowitz  10:08  
So did you get a sense of what she looked like? 

Allison Langer  10:10  
We live in Miami. We already see these people everywhere. It's like overdone and I without even seeing it I know how she's fucked herself up. 

Andrea Askowitz  10:19  
Okay. Because I wondered if that came through. For someone who maybe doesn't live in Miami or didn't look didn't like research what Madonna's looking like or didn't see her in the news. But anyway, I guess it's not important. Basically, she had a lot of work done on her face. But you asked me about the process. I want to tell you two things about the process of getting the story published in CNN. When Madonna first showed her face, I was so like, Oh my God and I wrote a story just about Madonna. And I sent the story to an editor at CNN Katya Header. And I took a few days like because it takes me a while to write a story. Like some people can write a story like, overnight, but I probably it probably took me three days. And Katya read the story, she liked it in the morning when I sent it to her she was like I really like the story, but then a few hours later, she was like it's too late for this story. So I missed the news cycle. If something happens in the news that touches you personally, you have to jump on it like that day or the next day. So three days was too many days. So then what happen is Justine Bateman came out she spoke to 60 Minutes Australia about her own like that this whole part that I talked about about the aging. And Katya header emailed me, the editor from CNN was like, 'Listen, this idea is coming back around in the news, maybe you could add stuff to it, use some of your Madonna material and talk about yourself and write a story around the Justine Bateman moment', which was the coolest thing. 

Allison Langer  12:00  
Yeah, I want to jump in because I just want to tell our listeners that this request came in while we were sitting at lunch, on the way from Sedona back to Flagstaff when we were teaching the scientists how to write their stories and this and that and we drove Andrea jumped in the back of the van and- 

Andrea Askowitz  12:22  
Wait weren't we like at the Grand Canyon? 

Allison Langer  12:24  
Because I remember at that one restaurant, you're like, 'Oh, I gotta sit off to the side. And I've got to start this thing.' So we're on a road trip and then we got to Sedona and you and I sat in in a coffee shop going over this and rereading it and putting in stuff and editing it and before you push send. 

Andrea Askowitz  12:41  
Right because I knew I had one day to turn it around. I knew that the news was that minute, I had to watch 60 Minutes Australia, Justine Bateman, she she also wrote in now I can't remember, but there was another article about her where she was quoted. I had to do the research very quickly and turn it around very, very quickly. It was exciting and scary. 

Allison Langer  13:03  
But what's really cool is that the first rejection turned into an acceptance. So you know, it's just great to hear, I'm sure for people out there who have getting rejected. 

Andrea Askowitz  13:12  
Writing is a long game. It's like you really have to make connections with editors, you have to pitch a lot, you get rejected a lot. But sometimes an editor will remember you and sometimes they'll remember you and then and then reach out to you that's so rare that I think it's the first time it's ever happened. But I can now reach out to her again. So now we have a connection. Y

Allison Langer  13:33  
yeah, no, it's really cool. And your hard assworker. I would have been like I'm on vacation. You know. But I remember you're like should I try to do this? Should I try to do this and your wife Vicki and I were like, 'yes, just do it. Just do it.' 

Andrea Askowitz  13:48  
I mean, I do have something to say about aging and beauty. I do, I've written about it in other places, too. When I turned 50 I wrote a story and glamour about how I think I look better than ever. So this is like a recurring theme for me. Did you see the Barbie movie? 

Allison Langer  14:04  
No, did you? 

Andrea Askowitz  14:05  
I really liked the Barbie movie, but the one one, I have two problems with it, but one of the problems is they don't contradict the idea of traditional beauty enough, not for me. And I was having this conversation with my wife and Tashi, who's my daughter who's 19 and Tashi has a really interesting experience with beauty because she's young and fucking gorgeous. And it kind of pisses her off. That that's the thing people notice about her first and Vicki said something really smart, which was, you know, we look to art, we look to music, like we as a people were drawn to what's beautiful. And that kind of made me think a little bit differently about I just I think that beauty is is wonderful, but we have to what I think we have to do is see beauty in different ways, especially on women at different ages.

Allison Langer  15:00  
Yeah, I don't have anything to say about Barbie. I've heard I've only heard a critique from two people, one, my son who hated it, they're men, and another man who was like, I didn't like it. So I didn't get into it too much. But my daughter saw it last night, but I haven't talked to her about it. 

Andrea Askowitz  15:15  
Well, it was really fun. And beauty was one of the themes. So that's why I mentioned it. 

Allison Langer  15:20  
Can you maybe give us all a little bit of insight of how you came to the fact of that you're aging and you're feeling more beautiful? Why is that you think? 

Andrea Askowitz  15:28  
I mean, what I've said in the piece is that I really didn't feel that pretty as a high school and college kid. Like, I felt bulky, like, I wasn't the stereotypical beauty. You know, I'm muscular. I'm like, I think I'm cute. Like, I think my face is okay. I do. I mean, it's okay, I don't think I'm dropped dead gorgeous. 

Like,

Allison Langer  15:51  
I think there's something to be said for that, like losing beauty has to be harder than never having felt beautiful, right. So, I mean, I was kind of cute in high school. 

Andrea Askowitz  16:04  
And you're kind of cute now. 

Allison Langer  16:06  
If you compare, which we should never, never, never do, then I don't feel so much. But I'm doing all the things I'm dyeing my hair. In fact, I'm going to get a blow dryer tomorrow, just because I want to look cute for New York. And, you know, I don't know, but at the end of the day, it's, it's for me, I just want to feel pretty. And I think that's important for everybody. So no matter what people do, in my opinion, if it makes them feel beautiful, if it's writing, if it's playing pickleball if it's doing your hair, you know, getting some Botox, I'm fine with it. I know that you don't necessarily feel that way. But I just want people just feel good and that's it. But please don't overdo it. 

Andrea Askowitz  16:45  
I want people to feel good, too. I just it makes me feel sad when someone has to kind of mutilate their face and spend money and that makes me feel sad if they feel like they have to do that. And I actually also think it brings down it brings down our sisters, and that's why I'm committed to being as natural as possible. 

Allison Langer  17:07  
Amen. 

Andrea Askowitz  17:08  
But I'll try not to judge though I can't say I don't, I do.

Allison Langer  17:14  
Well, thank you guys for listening and thank you, Andrea, for sharing your story and your opinions. Always a good thing. We love that here at Writing Class Radio. 

Andrea Askowitz  17:22  
Well, this was an opinion piece. 

Allison Langer  17:24  
Exactly. Bam.

Andrea Askowitz  17:32  
So

Allison Langer  17:35  
Writing Class Radio is hosted by me, Allison Langer. 

Andrea Askowitz  17:39  
And me Andrea Askowitz. 

Allison Langer  17:41  
Audio production is by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminsky, Chloe Emond-Lane and Aidan Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shambler. There's more Writing Class on our website writingclassradio.com, including stories we study editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our community by following us on Patreon and if you want to write with us every week, we hope you do you can join our first draft weekly writers group. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12 to 1pm, Eastern Time and or Eduardo Wink, Thursdays 8 to 9pm, Eastern Time. You'll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. If you're a business owner, entrepreneur, community activist, and group that needs healing and want to help your team write better, we can help. Check out all the classes we offer on our website writingclassradio.com Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write and the support from other writers. A new episode will drop every other Wednesday. 

Andrea Askowitz  18:51  
There is no better way to understand ourselves and each other than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What's yours?

Tara Sands (Voiceover)  19:03  
Produced and distributed by the Sound Off Media Company.

Show Notes Episode 160: Cliches Saved My Life

Today on our show, we bring you a story by student Emily Henderson. The story is called Cliches Saved My Life.

Emily Henderson has been featured before on Writing Class Radio: Ep 144: When Is a Gift More than a Gift? That story is about living through Xmas after the death of a child. It’s a beautiful and sad story and one of our best stories ever. Emily can write!

Emily Henderson is a runner and writer living in Santa Barbara CA. She’s written for Scary Mommy, HuffPost, The Santa Barbara Independent, and Writing Class Radio. She is currently writing a memoir about processing the loss of her son while running every street in her city. For more from Emily, you can read her Substack, I'm Really Very Literary.

You can follow her on Instagram @emilykathleenwrites or visit emilykathleenwrites.com.

Writing Class Radio is hosted by Allison Langer and Andrea Askowitz. Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aiden Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler.

There’s more writing class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

A transcript of the show is available here.

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12-1 ET and/or Thursdays with Eduardo Winck 8-9pm ET. You’ll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. If you’re a business owner, community activist, group that needs healing, entrepreneur and you want to help your team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and the support from other writers. To learn more, go to www.Patreon.com/writingclassradio. Or sign up HERE for First Draft for a FREE Zoom link.

A new episode will drop every other WEDNESDAY. 

There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Transcript

Allison Langer  0:14  
I'm Alison Langer.

Andrea Askowitz  0:16  
I'm Andrea Askowitz and this is Writing Class Radio. You'll hear our true personal stories and learn how to write your own stories. Together, we produce this podcast, which is equal parts heart and art. By heart, we mean the truth in a story. By art, we mean the craft of writing. No matter what's going on in our lives, writing class is where we tell the truth. It's where we work out our shit. There's no place in the world like writing class, and we want to bring you in.

Allison Langer  0:47  
Today on our show, we bring you a story by student Emily Henderson. She had a story here aired previously on episode 144, When Is A Gift More Than A Gift? That story is about living through Christmas after the death of a child. It is fucking amazing that story. In fact, we've used that story as an example of how to write a story with our other students. And even though it's really, really sad, it is seriously one of the best stories ever written. Emily can fucking right. Emily Henderson is a runner and writer living in Santa Barbara, California. She's written for Scary Mommy, Huff Post, the Santa Barbara Independent and Writing Class Radio. To heal or at least just move again after the death of her son Emily ran every street in Santa Barbara and is working on a memoir currently titled Running In Place. You can follow her on Instagram at Emily Kathleen Writes, or visit Emilykathleenwrites.com and that's Kathleen with a K.

Andrea Askowitz  1:45  
And all those links will be in our show notes on our website and on all the podcast platforms. The story we bring you today is called Cliches Saved My Life. The story is 354 words long. It's short and sweet. See what I did there. We'll be back with Emily Henderson's story after the break.

Allison Langer  2:08  
We're back. This is Alison Langer and you're listening to Writing Class Radio. Here's Emily Henderson reading Cliches Saved My Life.

Emily Henderson  2:28  
They say clichés are corny, predictable, and overused, but what if I told you clichés saved my life?  I've been collecting clichés for 15 years, sitting in uncomfortable chairs in church basements with "people who normally would not mix." See, even that's a cliché, but unless you are a friend of Bill W., it will fly high above your head.  In my writing, I often use a cliché as filler to capture an idea in a first draft. Then later, I go back and replace it with more original and specific language. My teacher tells me, you can do better, or I've heard this before when I write things like "heart racing," "end of the world," or "Suddenly, things that happen to other people were now happening to me."  In July of 2019, my 17-month-old son was diagnosed with brain cancer, and by November, he was gone. After my husband and I held his cooling body and said our final goodbyes, and it was time to leave, I pulled out my collection of simple phrases like, "One day at a time," “easy does it,” and "wisdom to know the difference" and repeated them in my head like a metronome. What if the only thing that kept us safe on that drive was because "God was doing for us that which we could not do for ourselves."  What if when I felt like I might not survive the death of my son, that the pain might be too great, I remembered that "feelings are not facts" and "this too shall pass," even if I don't really believe it just yet, what if I could "fake it until I make it?"   What if my pocket full of clichés were the mattress I fell on after falling off a cliff, crashing through a brick wall, and then a glass window?   I'm still just as bruised and broken, but because of my clichés, the alcoholism that is normally doing push-ups in the parking lot waiting for me to slip is nowhere to be found. Scared off by words like, “When Life hands you lemons..." You know the rest.   

Andrea Askowitz  4:35  
This is so sad and so good. It's like 300 and 54 words, I think. And it's, it's like this narrator gives us the like, what? All over like we see all the cliches she's using and the best part is that it's all about why. This is like, why does she use cliches, that's what this story is about and then she totally will kill me when she just drop, there was this moment where she dropped it in. In July of 2019, my 17 month old son was diagnosed with brain cancer and by November, he was gone. So we know why she's living, like using these cliches to save her life. It's such a full story, it's so gorgeous. 

Allison Langer  5:56  
You know, I have not heard or read a story like this, that leaves, trusts the reader enough, or the listener enough to let them figure things out and I loved it so much, just the way she starts with the uncomfortable chairs in the church basement. So we're like, okay, she's in a meeting, or something and then a friend of Bill's. Now, I have no idea what that was when I was young. But I dated somebody, and we were at a party and somebody said, 'oh, are you a friend to bills?' And the guy said, 'yes'. And I was like, 'who the fuck is Bill?' And later, I was told that that's the sign that people ask each other when you're an alcoholic and I just was like, wow, I learned, you know, like, I literally was like, in my 40s. So I don't know I loved it, maybe because like, oh, my God, I know, something I know something I can follow along. Like, I felt really good about that. I don't know if that meant that other people got let left out. But I think that one little thing, if somebody didn't know, they would just assume that they knew each other previously and then later, she does tell us about the alcoholism doing push ups in the parking lot.

Andrea Askowitz  7:16  
Yeah, exactly. So if you didn't know, or you were wondering, there, she brought it back. She gave us more clues about what that meant, without saying it overtly or directly. 

Allison Langer  7:30  
But it just felt like a secret conversation between us before that and it drew me in so much because of that and I don't think we've ever had anything like that on the podcast and quite frankly, I've never read anything like that. So I just think this is super unique and really amazing. I think it would be really cool to keep trying to recreate something like that, you know, to be inspired enough to try to create our own stories

Andrea Askowitz  7:56  
That's a good you're so you're saying listener, hey, radio listener, try to write a story.

Allison Langer  8:02  
I'm saying that but not as geeky. 

Andrea Askowitz  8:04  
I like it like that, hey, radio listener, write a story in this form. So So Allison, how would you like what would what prompt would you give? Like, how would you? 

Allison Langer  8:14  
Well, I think if you're writing about cancer, or you're writing about something that there's a very large group that will understand and even people associated with it will also pick up the clues. So you don't have to bop the person over the head with I had cancer, you could just drop in clues and then later explain what's the story, because she's clearly suffering through something and we're not sure why, then we get a little bit of a clue that she's just lost her child, we still don't know if she was had like this challenge prior to that, but it's not important to this story. It's just that this happened to her and she's dealing with it and the only way she can get through all this shit is by telling herself those cliches one day at a time, and sort of weaves it into the whole lingo of the Alcoholics Anonymous, which I thought was brilliant. So she's got these two things going on that are woven.

Andrea Askowitz  9:12  
So the story is not about cliches. It's about survival, but she's using cliches over and over again, to tell us how she survived and surviving. And she has survived two things, alcoholism, and the death of a child.

Allison Langer  9:31  
Well, those are two things that she's mentioned in the story. We don't know what else she survived. She may have survived many, many things. 

Andrea Askowitz  9:37  
Right true exactly. 

Allison Langer  9:38  
As you get older and older, you almost can't get away from it.

Andrea Askowitz  9:43  
Well, she actually we do know that she's survived many things because she's been a student in our classes. She's actually right now in my in my second draft class and she read this, she brought this in it and second draft is stories that are already pretty much it's not first draft. I've said they're worked on at home. I don't know how long she worked on this, but this is exactly how it came in nd I was like, this is so gorgeous. So different, beautiful. I felt that from the beginning. Just I love this story.

Allison Langer  10:15  
Yeah. And it's what's also interesting I just want to say is that we're always trying to cut cliches out of everybody's writing, including our own. 

Andrea Askowitz  10:24  
My teacher tells me you can do better, or I've heard this before. 

Allison Langer  10:28  
Yeah, but we never know what those cliches actually do for somebody else. So not saying go put them all in your writing, but this particular essay shows us that in order to survive, some of us need to grasp on to and cling to cliches. 

Andrea Askowitz  10:48  
Absolutely. Damn. Holy shit. Don't forget to check the show notes for links to our previous episode, and a link to our social media.

Writing Class Radio is hosted by me Andrea Askowitz. 

Allison Langer  11:11  
And me Alison Langer. 

Andrea Askowitz  11:14  
Audio production by Matt Cundill, Even Surminsky, Chloe Emond-Lane and Aidan Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Justina Shandler. There's moreWriting Class at our website writingclassradio.com including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats and live online classes. If you want to write with us every week, you can join our first draft weekly writers groups, you have the option to join Allison on Tuesdays noon to one Eastern and/or Eduarda Wink, eight to 9pm. Eastern. You write to a prompt and share what you wrote. It's the coolest and most awesome community you write you share, be there. To find out how to join go to writingclassradio.com First class is always free. If you're a business owner, entrepreneur, community activist, group that needs healing, or just want to help your team write better we can help. Check out all the classes we offer on our website writingclassradio.com. Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write and the support from other writers. A new episode will drop every other Wednesday.

Allison Langer  12:40  
There's no better way to understand ourselves and each other and by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What's yours? 

Tara Sands (Voiceover)  12:52  
Produced and distributed by the Sound Off Media Company.

Show Notes Episode 135: In Praise of Complaining

Today on our show we share a story by Cheryl E. Klein, author of the soon to be released memoir Crybaby. Cheryl takes an unusual subject, complaining, and makes a case for it. She even goes so far as to say complaining is noble. 

We discuss her voice and commitment to what some people, most people, probably think is an obnoxious quality. Cheryl also uses dialogue really well.

You can find Cheryl on Twitter @CherylEKleinLA and Instagram @CherylEKleinStories. Her story, In Praise of Complaining, was previously published in Mutha Magazine.

If you like this episode, please share it with one person. That’s how love is shared.

Writing Class Radio is produced by Allison Langer, Andrea Askowitz and by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski and Aidan Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music by Justina Shandler.

There’s more writing class on our website including essays to study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

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A new episode will drop every other Wednesday.

There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story.  What’s yours?

Pen v Gun. Which is the Deadlier Weapon?

By Robert Fell

Here in prison, the pen is our most essential tool. It’s our only weapon, and more deadly than a gun.

photo by jay rembert on upsplash

A gun can injure you, or worse, kill you or someone else, but a gun can also save your life. The gun saved my life many times when I defended this country at war. A gun also fucked up my life forever. A gun can’t get you justice, but it can get you locked in here with me.

photo by glen carrie on upsplash

With the pen, you can educate yourself, write grievances and file court appeals, and in rare cases even gain decisions which change laws in your favor. Sometimes I use my pen to draw little sketches, remembering a scene or place like our dock on a small lake in Michigan. Or a flower I’m writing about. I love to write.

My pen doesn’t require batteries. There is no hard drive to become corrupted. Nothing I write is lost or erased because it’s written with a pen and stored on paper. You can put a pen behind your ear or carry it in your pocket. A pen doesn’t require power. It can’t catch a virus or be a victim to magnetic warfare.

The pen is my best friend. I’d be lost without my pen. It’s my only means of sanity in this dreadful place. Everything I share with you is part of my history. That is thanks to the pen.

The pen is deadlier than the gun. Judges use their pen to sentence men to death. News reporters are lethal with their pen. It takes only one reporter to jot down negative thoughts to change the course of someone’s life.

photo by marco chilese on unsplash

Here in prison, the corrections officers use pens to keep records on us and write us up, so they can lock us up for longer. A pen allows the Parole commission to check the release box. But it seems they’re out of ink when that time comes for me. On nine occasions, the pen was dry.

Our president signs laws into order, signs peace treaties, and with his signature can declare war upon another nation. One signature of the pen can stop millions from being killed or being locked up for life.

Prison is the most fucked up place on earth. It can bring any sane person’s self-esteem down to shambles in little or no time. But, not me. The pen is my escape into another realm. In my mind, and then on paper, I can leave this dreadful place any time. They can keep my physical body in here but never my mind, which is free to wander. To get the full effect of my daydream adventures, I write them down.

The pen is an extension of my soul crying out to share my feelings, my thoughts, my desires and needs with you. Without the pen, you wouldn’t know me. I am Robert Fell # 072139.

Robert Fell graduated Cornell University with a Bachelors of Agricultural Science. He’s certified as a specialist vegetable grower in intensive growing methods and has over 5000 hours in facilitating other inmates and DOC staff in intensive farming methods. Robert is serving a life sentence for murder.

For more stories from the inside, listen to our 10-part prison series inspired by the men host Allison Langer taught memoir in prison. Click to listen to the series.

What is the Difference Between a Cow and a Prisoner?→

The Barn

By Robert Fell

photo by umanoide

It’s 4:00 pm and we’re rushed inside the decrepit open bay dorm, just like cattle. I am an inmate in a Florida prison. The dorm feels like a barn. A Florida Department of Corrections barn the USDA inspectors would cite for mistreatment of cattle.

Our barn was built over 40 years ago, prior even to my coming to prison. The barn has become old and worn down. Mold is everywhere. The windows won’t close, so every time it rains, water pours in. Same for the cold. We are forced to wear our sweatshirts and thermals to sleep. Rust is on our lockers, our showers, and our beds. The beds have metal slats spaced so far apart, our thin mattresses slip between the slats. The mattresses are worn to a mere inch thick. Their covers are torn and cracked. Pillows stink of the hundreds of others who have used these same ones. Four-inch spikes poke through the ceiling like the barrel of an AR-15. Toilets stink of piss and poop. Screens are torn, so mosquitoes harvest our blood each night. The spiders lurk nearby to receive a double dose of bug juice and human blood.

There’s 74 of us cows in this barn. After being counted, we’re rushed along a concrete path to the slop house, known by most as the chow hall. We are herded down a narrow path marked with a yellow line. If you step out of line, there’s a prison guard banishing an AR-15. She screams obscenities as she points the gun down from her tower.

Ranchers don’t threaten their cattle as our cow masters threaten us. Cattle are given plenty of time to eat. We are given five minutes. No normal person can wolf down a meal in five minutes. But they don’t see us as normal. To them, we are animals.

photo by annie spratt

Back to the barn we are herded. We are so used to the pushing and shoving that we act like cattle. In threes, we try to squeeze through a door made for one. We fight for space farting and mooing.

Some of my fellow animals seem content and happy in this barn. That’s what’s called institutionalized.

I have been in prison for 42 years. I made a mistake, but I am no animal.

Robert Fell graduated Cornell University with a Bachelors of Agricultural Science. He’s certified as a specialist vegetable grower in intensive growing methods and has over 5000 hours in facilitating other inmates and DOC staff in intensive farming methods. Robert is serving a life sentence for murder.

For more stories from the inside, listen to our 10-part prison series inspired by the men host Allison Langer taught memoir in prison. Click to listen to the series.

I Went to CVS to Pick up My Prescription and Left with The Last Multi-pack of Charmin.

By Stephanie Lancaster (Written in Writing Class Radio’s Weekly Writer’s Group)

Yesterday, I left my house for the first time in 10 days to go to CVS to pick up a refill on a prescription. I was planning to use the pharmacy drive-through, but when I got to the store, the line of cars was long, so I parked, put my mask on, and went into the store. 

I was distracted by the makeup aisle - I need a new lipstick that will make me look less pale and tired on the Zoom calls. Once I had that magic elixir in hand, I proceeded toward the pharmacy counter.

The hair products - particularly those on the end-cap next to a sign that said, Big, sexy hair! - lulled me away from my intended path. This mousse will for sure make me look better on a Zoom call- even my limp ponytail will look better with some BODY.

Determined to make it to the pharmacy counter, I forged on with those two sleight-of-hand products in my arms. Without even slowing my roll, I reached out and grabbed a bag of shelled pistachio nuts in the snack aisle and a new pack of highlighter markers from the school supply section. These will help my productivity for sure.

Two aisles away from my mark, I became consumed by a thought: WHAT IF I RUN OUT OF TOILET PAPER? 

I felt a magnetic pull toward the home goods section and once again deviated, this time picking up THE LAST multi-pack of Charmin Ultra Soft Mega Roll Ultra Gentle TP and then running a victory lap around the perimeter of the store. A CVS employee caught my eye and waved me towards the check-out line; there was orange tape on the floor at points 6-feet away from each other to facilitate social distancing while customers waited in line to check out. God DAMN I'm killing it today, I thought as I noticed there was nobody in line. 

I put my catch of the day on the counter, paid, accepted the two bags handed to me by the cashier, and then doused myself with hand sanitizer on my way out the door. With a smile of what I assume was self-satisfaction on my face, I got into my car, sanitized again for good measure, took off the face mask, and drove the two miles back to my house. I unloaded the car, went inside, and, as I considered putting on the lipstick I'd just bought, it dawned on me that I'd left without getting my prescription.

Stephanie Lancaster is an occupational therapist and an assistant professor in the Department of Occupational Therapy at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center in Memphis, TN. She hosts a podcast called On The air (www.OnTheair.us) for individuals interested in occupational therapy.

Dear Person...Cheating & Hiding, a Letter About Phones

Maya Kieffer is a Writing Class Radio podcast student, bookseller, writing teacher in prison and the creator of Dear Person, an advice blog. Below, an excerpt from her blog.

Dear Person Week Four

Dear Person wants YOUR letter!!!

Dear Person,

I am a 35 year old woman and have been married to my husband for six years. We have two young boys, and our relationship has been strained for about a year. Lately I’ve become suspicious of my husband’s friendship with a coworker. 

He started mentioning her name more and more this year, and one night I couldn’t help myself.

I looked through his text messages and saw two messages from the co-worker saying “Here’s my number for when you’re  lonely :)” and “You know what they say about things people do when they’re drinking…”

There was no reply from my husband and these were the only texts from this woman. I don’t know if he’s cheating on me, but I have so many questions. Do I tell him I read his text messages? Should I ask if he’s cheating? I’m embarrassed that I read them at all but I want to confront him about this woman.

Sincerely,

Ashamed of Snooping

Dear Ashamed,

I feel pretty strongly about this. You must tell him. Yes, invading the privacy of someone you’ve committed to partnering with is a destructive move, but your mistake doesn’t negate your husband’s behavior. You cannot un-pick up the phone and un-read those text messages, so there’s no reason to dwell on the wrongness of the act itself. You’ve done it already. Shame will not serve you half as well as honesty.

I am not speaking from a place of judgement, Ashamed. Far from it. I can clearly remember a former me, hunched over an ex-lover’s phone, thumbs shaking and breath shallow as I clicked through his private conversations.

One morning (because I usually did this in the morning, while he was taking a shower) I found something I’d been looking for. It was a confirmation of a needling suspicion: my boyfriend had indeed been hiding something from me.

The striking thing about that morning is not what I found or that I found it, but how I felt once I did: relieved.

Relieved because the distance between us had a recognizable shape, something tangible to blame. Relieved that I was right, he’d stopped touching me for a reason, he was not just “stressed about work” —  and relieved because I didn’t have to continue pretending to be satisfied in my relationship. It was, for me, the excuse I thought I needed to blow shit up.

Click to read full Dear Person's full response.