Writing – Angie Mizzell

Telling Your Truth

February 29, 2012 By Angie 7 Comments

My blog is in excellent hands today. Friends, please welcome Abigail Green from Abby off the Record (cue thunderous applause). Abby, after you entertain the readers, I’m shipping my boys to Baltimore. Would that be okay?

Telling Your Truth

I have always been more fascinated by real life than fiction. At the library or bookstore, I head straight for the biographies, memoirs, travel anthologies, humor, and essay collections first, only sometimes making my way to the novels after that. I’ve always found the truth to be far more interesting than anything someone can make up.

So I suppose it’s no surprise that I grew up to be a writer of nonfiction and teach classes on how to write personal essays. Early in each class, I broach the subject of truth with this anecdote: Years ago, my only brother and I got married within six weeks of each other. We didn’t exactly plan it that way; that’s just how it worked out. This presented some logistical challenges for our family. My mother swears to this day that I forbade her (her word) to wear the same dress to both weddings. I will cross my heart on a stack of Bibles and tell you that this never happened. I’m hardly the forbidding type. Even my kids don’t take me seriously when I threaten to never let them have dessert again if they don’t eat their vegetables.

But it doesn’t matter—my mother believes it’s the truth. And to her, it is. So if she were to write an essay about “The Mother-of-the-Bride Dress Debacle,” I might be annoyed, but it’s her prerogative. It’s her truth.

Obviously, it’s never OK to lie and pass it off as the truth in your writing, published or not. If nothing else, we learned that from James Frey and the media firestorm surrounding the discovery that he fictionalized large parts of his 2003 Oprah-touted memoir, “A Million Little Pieces.” However, “truth” can be a somewhat tricky concept for writers. There’s the literal, factual truth about an event, as would be presented in a police report. Then there’s the writer’s own perspective of that event as he or she experienced it. That experience is every bit as true to the writer as the police report, if not more, because it includes her feelings and interpretations along with the facts.

So what’s the point of all this? That as a memoir or essay writer — or a blogger, for that matter — you owe it to yourself and your readers to be as truthful as possible in your writing. Of course, tread lightly and consider others’ feelings when you write about “truths” that involve other people. But again and again I have found that the things I’m most afraid to write about – too embarrassing, too personal, makes me feel too vulnerable – is the writing that resonates most with readers when I finally have the courage to put it out there.

Me too. I get it. I’ve been there. Thank God it’s not just me. I’m so glad I’m not alone. Those are the reactions that mean the most to me as a writer of personal essays. Because the point, when you get right down to it, is to make the personal universal. To relate. To connect. And you can only do that if you’re telling the truth.

***

Abigail Green’s 6-week online writing class, “Personal Essays that Get Published,” starts Weds. March 7. It is open to all levels of writers. Students will learn how to find ideas, discover their natural voice, craft catchy leads and solid conclusions, and find markets and submit their essays for publication. Former students have been published in the New York Times, Southern Living, Chicken Soup for the Soul, A Cup of Comfort, regional parenting magazines, web sites, and more. Registration closes this week! Click here to register.

Abby is a freelance writer in Baltimore, MD and has published over 200 articles and essays for such places as American Baby, Health, and Smithsonian magazine, as well as A Cup of Comfort for New Mothers, Babble.com, TheBump.com, and Skirt! She is also the author of the e-book Mama Insider: Laughing (And Sometimes Crying) All the Way Through Pregnancy, Birth, and the First 3 Months.

Filed Under: Guest Bloggers, Writing

You had me at page one

December 19, 2011 By Angie 35 Comments

As someone who has had her nose in a book since the days of Dick and Jane, I can’t tell you what makes me love a story and read it to the end or what makes me sit it down and forget about it. In general, I’m drawn to books with female main characters, but something about their voice has to grab me and pull me in. I need to feel like they are talking to me. Talking about what, exactly? I never really know. But I can usually tell by the first paragraph whether I’m in or out.

I spent the weekend reading Robin O’Bryant’s Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves. By the grace of God I found myself in a quiet house and read chapter after chapter without stopping.

Maybe it’s because Robin says things like “hell to the no”. (I’m going to borrow that). Or calls her lady parts her “Britney”. Or can talk about the real and less-than-pretty aspects of parenthood with her own unique brand of humor that makes me laugh out loud (instead of loti… laugh on the inside).

“I wrote it for moms in the trenches,” Robin says. “Because what we do can be so isolating that you start to feel crazy.” Can I get an amen? “I think anybody who likes to laugh will enjoy it, though. My self-syndicated humor column, Robin’s Chicks, has a really varied demographic and I love when I get an email from a guy in his 20s telling me that he and his childless girlfriend read my column out loud every week. I guess it’s good birth control.”

Speaking of birth control, Robin is the mom of three young girls and says she and her husband are done. And she offers this wise (and sanity-preserving) advice: “The only expert opinion that matters is your own. Everything else is a guideline. You know what’s best for your kids.”

She adds, “Laugh at the sheer absurdity of parenting and at the curve balls your kids throw your way. It really is better than fiction.” And ketchup is actually a fruit. According to Robin, it’s a fruit smoothie if you want to get technical.

Want a FREE copy of Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Themselves? Leave a comment for a chance to win. Contest closes tomorrow (Tuesday) at 6am Eastern time.

You can also buy the paperback or Kindle Edition on Amazon. (Kindle version is free to Amazon Prime members). If you’d like to purchase a signed copy click here.

Filed Under: Life with Kids, Writing

“I want to capture the wonderfulness of every day”

December 16, 2011 By Angie 20 Comments

I need to take a moment and brag on my friend, Robin O’Bryant. This week, her book Ketchup is a Vegetable: And Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves was the top rated parenting and family humor book on Amazon.com. Number freakin’ one. And it just went on sale, like, yesterday or something like that. (Robin, I see you with my x-ray vision doing the cabbage patch in the middle of your living room.)

I met Robin two years ago, when she lived in Charleston. A friend who worked at the Moultrie News told me about the paper’s new humor columnist and sent me the link to her blog. I hopped over to Robin’s Chicks and quickly fell in love with this stay-at-home mom who said she had written a book. She openly professed her dream of being a published author. In fact, I think at the top of her blog, there was a tab labeled “My Dream.” I emailed Robin and told her she was my new hero. Robin’s enthusiasm had given me courage to finish my own book.

Robin emailed me right back and suggested we get together sometime. Fast-forward a couple of weeks, and we’re having our first “date” on the elliptical machines at East Shore Athletic Club. Meeting at the gym was Robin’s brilliant idea because *hello* they have childcare. After our workout, we enjoyed more grown-up talk and drank protein shakes in peace. Here’s what I specifically remember: Robin was very clear on her mission as a writer. “My purpose,” she said, “is to make people laugh.”

So now that Robin is living her dream, we’re having part two of that conversation:

Robin: I realized my purpose was to make people laugh after people started reading my stuff and that’s what they did. I didn’t set out ‘to be funny,’ I just wrote and that was the reaction I got. Apparently, there’s a literary booger in my nose.

Angie: (Robin is bringing ~~sexy~~ boogers back.) How do you balance the humor with all the bad things that happen in the world?

R: I’m not a Pollyanna. I have my moments where I am totally overwhelmed by the hardness and harshness of life. I call my husband, my mom, my sister or my best friend and cry. I’ve simply learned that if I write about dark things, I think about dark things. I don’t want to capture the crap. Can I say that on your blog?

A: Yes, you can.

R: Should we put that on a t-shirt?

A: Yes, we should.

R: I want to capture the wonderfulness of every day. The little moments with my husband and three girls, that while simultaneously making me recite every curse word I know, make me thankful to be alive and be part of their family.

A: Do you have any advice for someone who needs more laughter in their life?

R: Humor gives us courage to face things that would otherwise crush us—and it’s easy to laugh at someone else’s circumstances. For example, my best friend has been trying to potty train her oldest daughter. The other day she took the lid off a tea pot and took care of some serious bidnass. It was HILARIOUS… to me. Going ahead and RSVPing “Not able to make it” to that tea party themed birthday.

A: That’s what you say on your blog: “It really is funny when it’s happening to someone other than you!”

R: There is a kind of hysterical relief in realizing we aren’t alone. And THAT is what saves us… relationships with other women and realizing that our experiences are universal.

Ketchup is a Vegetable: And Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves is for sale on Amazon.com in paperback. You can also order the Kindle Edition, which is currently free to Amazon Prime members. If you want a signed copy, order here.

And come back Monday for your chance to WIN a copy! It’s Christmastime and Robin’s feeling generous.

Today in the comments, we’re saying no to crap! Do you remember a time that laughter saved you?

Filed Under: Life with Kids, Writing

Connection

October 26, 2011 By Angie 7 Comments

I’m taking some time this week to celebrate a milestone, and I’m thinking about all the beautiful souls who helped me get there. Please enjoy one from the archives.

Sometimes people don’t fully realize the impact they have on others, because how do you measure the ripple effects of inspiration?

Yesterday, I saw the Angel Oak for the first time. It’s at least 1,500 years old.

In order to take the picture, I had to keep backing up. Back, back, back… then I tripped over this:

And I still didn’t get the whole tree in frame. Needless to say, the Angel Oak is really huge. Majestic is more like it.

When I was in high school, I took an honors English class my junior and senior years, and I was fortunate to have the same teacher two years in a row. Our very first assignment: Go home and hug a tree. The word spread quickly. We lived in a small, conservative town where people just didn’t go around hugging trees. What on earth was this woman teaching? The skeptics wanted to know.

I embraced the assignment (and the tree) and documented the experience in my writing journal – part two of the assignment. I wrapped my arms around the sturdy trunk outside my house and instantly felt the connection. I felt the energy, the life. It made me feel… happy.

We wrote a lot in that class. During those two years, I learned to make the connection between my thoughts, feelings and life experiences. As I wrote by hand (which is still the best way to do it, in my humble opinion) I connected with something bigger than myself. The higher power that guides my life today.

Once you establish a connection, it’s easy to recognize when it’s there. And when it isn’t. You can’t force it. But you can remain open and trust that what you are seeking you will find. You can trust that it will find you.

If you’d like to subscribe to my blog, click here.

Filed Under: Writing

Smells like waffle cones

October 24, 2011 By Angie 26 Comments

I have a completed, edited manuscript.

Mind if I repeat that?

I have a completed, edited manuscript.

I’m no longer writing a book. I’ve written it. It’s no longer a draft. It is done.

If you’re wondering how that feels, well, to me it feels like I’ve slammed a couple shots of Jager. Like I’m standing outside myself with a really good buzz and no bar tab (and no hangover) inside a strange world of awesome.

This is not the end of the road. It’s a milestone. And if you’re like me and used to running, sometimes it’s difficult to stop and rest. Even on the day I found out we were having a baby girl, I celebrated the beautiful, sunshiny day by driving from one end of town to the other, keeping an eye on the clock.

Yesterday, my family and our good friends rode our bikes from their house in Mount Pleasant to the county park. Our ages range from 39 to 2, and as we traveled along the sidewalks of a busy road, I joked we looked like a pack of ducks when we crossed the intersections. Cars yielded and gave us the right-of-way as the eight of us quacked, quacked, quacked on by. I don’t think those cars wanted to kill us, but they certainly didn’t want to wait either.

Most of us don’t enjoy sitting idle, and there’s a danger in doing that for too long. For example, after we visited the park and began our two mile trek back, we stopped at a yogurt shop. Oh my golly, I’ve never been to a yogurt shop like this. It smelled like what I imagine heaven smells like (or Willy Wonka’s place). Warm waffle cones and dozens of yogurt flavors (self-serve!) and even more toppings. I’m glad I’m pregnant, because no one even blinked at the amount of pure, authentic goodness I poured into my cup. (They charge by the pound. The yogurt, not me.)

We sat outside and enjoyed our treats. And then, Shawn said, “Okay, let’s go.” He saw the looks on our faces. If we had sat there one minute longer, we would’ve slipped into yogurt-induced comas and not wanted to complete the trek to the finish line.

So, I’m eager to keep going, but it was nice to take some time to soak it all in. Here’s how I did it:

~Took a bubble bath

~Took a nap

~Sat in the backyard in a camping chair and watched Shawn do yard work, while Blake rolled around in an empty, dirty, plastic swimming pool.

~Made lasagna.

~Cried when I watched E.T. (At the end when he tells Elliott, “I’ll be right here.” Boo hoo hoo hoo)

~Laughed when I watched The Switch with Jennifer Aniston (love her) and Jason Bateman (still so fine).

~And took a snapshot in my mind when my 5 1/2 year old’s eyes lit up and said, “That means you’re an author?” I was tempted to say, “Well, I still have to get published.” But no. Stop it, inner critic. Just stop it. You have not been invited to this party. And I replied, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Do you remember to pause and celebrate your successes — those milestones that make the journey so sweet? How do you do it?

If you’d like to subscribe to my blog, click here.

Filed Under: Writing

Living the rough draft

October 19, 2011 By Angie 22 Comments

Each day after school, after Dillon has a snack and sufficient dose of mind numbing television (think Pokemon and Spongebob), he comes to the kitchen counter to do his homework. Then he goes outside to play. See, aren’t we so well-rounded?

During homework time, as he records his entries in his composition book, my main job is to make sure he’s following the instructions and forming letters correctly. I can’t tell him how to spell anything. He has to sound it out. Dillon’s class uses what’s known as invented spelling. The idea is to get them writing their thoughts quickly and easily in a first draft, without becoming bogged down with “getting it right”.

That sounds like the conversations I’ve had with my editor recently. She encourages to me to get into the flow of the story and worry about editing later. Which is a constant issue for a perfectionist like me. But the system totally works. Many times I go back to the writing and am surprised at how well the ideas have come together, because I’ve given them space to flow. Self-editing too soon blocks that flow.

So back to Dillon. He’s really getting the hang of it. Each week, I savor the papers that come home: Dillon writing about how much he loves me. How much he enjoyed our family trip to Universal Studios. And just how stinkin’ happy we are.

And then one day, I got this. See if you can figure it out:

Do you need a translator? My adorable snuggle puppy louded me out for forcing him to wear jeans. And I’m not sure what’s going on with the picture. Am I the big monster-sized person with ginormous hands? Or the strange vulture human hovering above? Either way, his account is correct. I was about to sell a kid that day. And his dad, too, when he told Dillon he could change into shorts. Don’t worry, they paid. When Mama’s not happy, nobody’s happy.

Anyway, I don’t think Dillon has a problem with the whole “getting ideas out on paper” thing. You?

So there you have it. It’s not always hearts and flowers in happy land. And I’m really so proud of that kid. He keeps me humble, for sure.

If you’d like to subscribe to my blog, click here.

Filed Under: Life with Kids, Writing

Help. I need a playlist. Stat.

September 28, 2011 By Angie 60 Comments

When I emailed Kelly Love Johnson this week, asking if she’d do me the honor of editing my book, I meant, you know, a little later. When you’re free. I didn’t think she’d say I can get started right now. And that within the hour she’d map out a plan to spend the next month or so whipping the manuscript into shape.

Her plan does not involve me sitting back and eating bon bons. Or if you saw my Facebook status yesterday, eating cake icing straight out of the container. She edits. I write.

And so, it’s time to flip that switch in my brain that allowed me to work in TV newsrooms for years and meet tight deadlines every single day. It’s time to unleash my inner bad mamma jamma. That’s where you come in.

In the comments section, please provide one or all of the following:

a) a song that inspires you. One that makes you dance in the kitchen or play air drums in your car. I’ve already added Dog Days are Over by Florence and the Machine (thanks, Kelly) and Eye of the Tiger (thanks, Rocky).

b) an inspirational/motivational/get- er-done kind of quote. I shall decorate my work space with them.

c) someone I can channel (real or fictional) when my inner bad mamma jamma fails me. I have Tami Taylor from Friday Night Lights on standby. I need more backup.

Okay? Ready set go! (and thank you!)

If you’d like to have my blog delivered to your reader or inbox, click here.

Filed Under: Writing

The things we do for love

September 26, 2011 By Angie 43 Comments

My friend, Andra, knows my story — the one I’m molding into a memoir — better than most. She even knows it better than my mom or husband, who are by default, “characters” in this particular slice of my life.

That’s because Andra was the only one who read the pages of that primitive first draft. She witnessed when I opened up and wrote things that will resonate with readers. And she (constructively) called me out when I held back.

She noticed when I was scared, and she encouraged me to crack through the facade and go there. “How did that really make you feel?” She asked time and time again. Over the past year, we’ve talked a lot about blogging, too. Because personal blogging is a giant, real-time, publish-it-and-live-with-it kind of writing exercise.

We write about our lives. And you tell us what you think.

Andra has said to me, “Go write a blog post that makes you want to throw up. Because if you can’t write a post that makes you want to vomit, you won’t be able to finish your book.”

This post makes me want to throw up. I don’t know about you, but I’m not a fan of throwing up. I’d rather laugh and sip bubbly and frolic through the meadow. I don’t want to talk about the very thing that holds me back. The thing that tries to suffocate me and messes with head.

And that, my friends, is my deep, unsettling fear of rejection. The minute I’m criticized, I immediately wonder what I did wrong. Being rejected stirs up my own insecurities and dark places, before I stop to consider that maybe, the rejection might be coming from someone else’s insecurities and dark places. Before I stop to consider that sometimes it’s just not a good fit. That what other people think about me is out of my control. Heck, it’s not even any of my business. And perhaps, it’s nothing personal, and I just need to get over myself.

Here’s what I can control: my own actions. I can learn from my mistakes and apologize when necessary. I can speak my truth and do my best to live it. I can be conscientious and try not to alienate others. But where do you draw the line? Is it really possible to live (and speak) our truth and make everyone else happy in the process? No. And for me, that’s the hardest part.

Recently, my friend, Kerstin, wrote about changing the name of her website, because the former title didn’t sit well with some people. She says:

“Ultimately I like harmony in my life and do not enjoy going around offending people, no matter how harmless I think my intentions are.”

And that statement struck a nerve with me, because a post I wrote last week offended some people. And that bothered me. A lot. So I listened, I responded and I learned. And as I stood by my words, I also got more and more clear about who I am and what’s important to me. A lot of us are figuring it out as we go. It would be a lot less painful if we did and said everything perfectly all the time, but we know that’s impossible.

Some of you may not relate to this fear of rejection. Some of you might not understand (or even like) people like me who stress and obsess over the first scent of conflict. But if you can relate, I’ll say this: We all have our own sad stories and reasons for being afraid. At the root of it, we all want to be accepted and loved. But not everyone is going to accept us and love us. That’s not even the point. Here’s the point, and Kerstin said it best:

“It’s all about inviting in that which we yearn for, about manifesting our dreams in whatever way we can.”

Rejection is inevitable. But if we’re brave enough to face our fears and walk through them, the light — that thing we truly yearn for — will find us. It will surround us and fill us up. I know, because I’ve seen it happen. It’s the root of my faith. It’s what I believe. And I believe it’s worth it.

Are you a people-pleaser?

Filed Under: Feels Like Home, Writing

I can’t fail. Well, actually, I can.

September 11, 2011 By Angie 36 Comments

That was the conversation I was having with myself over the weekend, as I printed out the third draft of my memoir. To my surprise, it doesn’t suck as much as I thought it would. And some parts don’t suck at all. Other parts are actually quite good.

About a year ago, I went to a writers’ conference and spent some time talking with an agent. She was interested in my book’s concept, and of course, I latched on to that like a koala bear wraps itself around a tree. She told me from the beginning I had some work to do, and after a series of conversations that extended beyond the conference, she concluded I still had a way to go.

And at first, as I let those words sink in, I felt the ground shift. I was sitting in my car, reading her email on my phone in the parking lot of the Coastal Carolina Fair. It was dark outside, and my son couldn’t see me crying as I pulled onto the highway and headed home. It wasn’t what she said — the agent was encouraging and more than generous with her time and her feedback. In fact, she did me a great service; she told me what I needed to do and sent me off to go do it.

The reason I crumpled for a moment that night is because of what I said to myself. I asked all those terrible questions you ask when you’re about to sabotage your success: What if I’m wasting my time? And (the worst question of all) what am I going to do if this doesn’t work out? Becoming a published author is my big life dream. What if I spend my life pursuing something that never comes to pass?

And then, almost as quickly as I let myself marinate in a sea of self pity, the tears stopped and I felt better. I actually felt relief. I think author Suzanne Finnamore said it best in this article for O magazine:

“…I now believe rejection is God’s way of

kicking you to higher ground.”

Can I get an Amen?

The bottom line is I know I’m going to be alright. Better than alright. Freakin’ fabulous. If I continue to give this path my all, and it doesn’t turn out the way I planned, that’s okay. It may turn out better than I planned. Or it may lead me to something I never expected.

I don’t want to fail. I’m not walking around acting as if I will fail. I refuse to believe the negative voices telling me I will fail. But finally, I understand. Failure isn’t an indictment on my character or a measure of my worth. Even failure can get you where you need to go.

If you’d like to have my blog posts delivered to your reader or inbox, click here.

Filed Under: Redefining Success, Writing

The big “why”

May 13, 2011 By Angie 9 Comments

It’s almost 6:30 in the morning, and I just closed a document containing a chapter of my book. The last sentence on the page made me cry. They weren’t sad tears. In fact, I took it as a good sign. If something I’ve written makes me cry, that means I’ve hit on something very important.

The words on the page weren’t raw emotion. In fact, this particular chapter has been scrutinized and edited countless times. So I’m pretty sure those words need to stay.

I’m not going to lie. Writing a memoir is hard. It’s an act of remembering the details and identifying why those details are significant to the story. An act of deleting scenes that are important in the grand scheme of my life, but don’t support the main themes in the story.

It is a story, after all. And while a true story, it must be crafted like (or almost like) a novel. It must have an arc. I must identify my desire line– what I really wanted. The initiating incident– the scene that gets the story started. And how the story ended– what I got and what I learned. For this story to work, I must identify the big “why.” And “why does anyone care?”

One day, I’ll be able to rise above my book-writing process, see it as a whole and explain it in a way that may be helpful to other writers embarking on a similar journey. But for now, I’m learning as I go.

This week, we heard from two amazing women taking brave steps forward. One says she wants to feed her soul. The other is searching for her thing. I’ve found my thing. Whether it’s my thing for right now, or the rest of my life, I don’t know. That’s not important. My thing doesn’t always feel like a mountaintop. It’s downright exhausting and emotionally draining sometimes. I seek balance daily, but I usually fall short of obtaining it. So how do I know?

Because it feels worth it.

Have a great weekend, friends. And thank you for the part you play in making it all worth it.

If you’d like to subscribe to my blog, click here.