Your Scene-Writing Magic Bag o’ Goodies

by Brooke Warner

When I was a kid, I was obsessed with the scene in Mary Poppins when she opens up her bag for the Banks children and pulls out all manner of things. If you were lucky enough to watch this movie when you were still a child, you can tap into that delight so quickly, the magic of that cinematic moment.

I think about Mary and her magic bag when I teach my long memoir classes because there’s often a moment, usually in a craft class when we’re layering it on, when I feel the overwhelm from my students. When you write a scene, you have to hold all these craft concepts, all the while dealing with your memories, messages from your saboteurs, and any bouts of self-doubt. Most writers who are working on a memoir are learning a new craft while also dealing with the wellspring of emotion that comes from tapping into experiences that can oftentimes feel like stirring a hornet’s nest.

Another good metaphor the list I offer below is a toolkit. When you’re writing scenes, you have all these tools—elements of craft—and more at your disposal. But to think of your kit as Mary Poppins’s magic bag is much more fun, and much more full of wonder. Print this list out somewhere and keep it in your writing space. Add to it if you feel so inspired. Breathe wonder into this memoir-writing process whenever you can tap into it.  

Here are some of the craft elements already packed in your scene-writing bag:

Narrative voice/storytelling


Narrative voice really just boils down to how you sound on the page. You are the storyteller, inviting your reader to reexperience a lived experience. That lived experience is a scene from your past that you’re recreating. A most helpful image for understanding narrative voice (relayed to me by Piper Kerman, author of Orange Is the New Black) is 2-D glasses. You are two narrators—the narrator who’s in the experience, “in situation,” inside the body the age you were then, and limited to those felt experiences, and then you are the narrator who reflects, who sits at a bit of a distance from the in-situation narrator. The reflective narrator knows more than the in-situation narrator, but the reflective narrator is not you, today, recalling what you know “now.” Narrative control is half the battle when it comes to mastering memoir, so soak up everything you can on this topic and stay in control of what narrative voice you’re using on the page at any given time.  

Description 


This falls between narrative and sensory detail because in memoir you must describe things. Too  often, writers breeze through their scenes, not giving their reader enough. Sometimes I read students’ work and they’ve summarized four years in a matter of two pages. No details. No descriptions. And the reader is left feeling like they have a case of whiplash. I’ve come to discover that this often stems from the writer not wanting to be boring, and yet the result of that way of thinking is that a scene can feel rushed, and the reader ends up feeling like they’re not wholly immersed in your memoir, or worse, just cheated.

Sensory detail


When you think of the details you want to pepper into these descriptions—what makes your scenes come alive—you must harness the senses: taste, sight, sound, touch, and smell. Try on each and every one and ask yourself where the narrative can benefit from taste, sight, sound, touch, or smell. What were you—the protagonist—tasting, seeing, hearing, touching, and smelling in the given moment (the scene, the situation) that you’re inviting your reader into? These are the details that make scenes come alive—and create multilayered descriptions that serve as a gift to your readers.

Reflection


I mentioned the reflective narrator, and that is the vehicle for good reflection. In memoir, we must tell (yes, tell) readers what we’re thinking and feeling about the scenes we’re choosing to relay. An easy rule of thumb is to allow your reflections to come at the end of scenes. Pose the question to yourself: Why does this scene matter? How is this connected to my themes? That’s where the essence of good reflection comes from—pointing the reader’s attention back to your promise. You’re writing your book for a reason, and the more you know what that reason is, the more you fully embody what your own work is about, the more easily you’ll be able to offer up meaningful reflections, integrated into your scenes.

Character development and characterization 


The people who populate your book, most notably you, drive the story. Things happen without people, that’s true, but if there’s no one there to witness it, then there’s no story. Thus, memoir isn’t anything without its characters (again, most notably you) having experiences and interacting. In memoir, you, the protagonist, should also have a transformative experience. you will not be the same person at the end of the book than you were at the beginning. In order for the reader to experience this alongside you, you have to show development (ie, growth). What changed you and why? Characterization ups the stakes because the job of characterization is to show us what people are like—what they look like and how they behave. This also starts with you. Let us get to know you and your characters, all the way. Yes, this means you’re going to write some exposing things, but you knew that when you signed up for this foolish endeavor, right?

Dialogue


A scene without dialogue is like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the jelly. It’s fine, but it’s just not as good. Look for opportunities to weave in dialogue. It makes your characters come alive, and it provides a needed break for the reader from narrative summary. It is also the essence of characterization. Dialogue helps your feel how you and other characters talk. So much can be conveyed through good dialogue, including a person’s behavior and personality, in addition to interpersonal dynamics and subtext. Take the time to read your dialogue out loud. Does it sound like you sound? Does it read how people in your life really talk? Take the time to get this right. Your characters will be much more multidimensional with good dialogue.

Body language


Let’s not forget body language and tone when you’re writing descriptions and dialogue. The reader can garner a lot of information about how a line is delivered if you tell us about a raised eyebrow, a terse look, a pat on the back, a smirk. Writers often underdeliver on body language cues either because they lived what they’re writing and don’t see how important it is, or because they forget. Body language also involves showing, by default, and gives us so much insight into how people act, react, and behave, often providing the very justification for why a scene belongs in the first place. We need to get to know your characters and their reactions.

Figures of speech


If you weren’t an English major, it’s possible that the last time you thought about figures of speech was in high school. But all of us know metaphors, similes, and analogies when we see them. What we might not realize is just how much sophistication figures of speech lend to our writing. Some people are intimidated by figures of speech, or just aren’t good at metaphors and similes and analogies. That’s okay! Practice. If something feels clunky, give yourself permission to come back later. Metaphoric language stokes the readers’ imagination. It deepens the reading experience. Figures of speech can delight and surprise. Give yourself and your reader this gift.

Word, sentence, and point of view variation


When I think of books I love, I consider the ways in which they’ve sometimes challenged me. I think of beauty. Sometimes our shitty first drafts are just that, an effort to get out what you need to say. But in a second or third or fourth pass, vary it up. Try on new words. Get a little wild with your sentences. Exit the first person point of view and try “you” and “we” and see what happens. Many memoirists these days are pushing the limits of language and point of view in memoir, broadening the scope and definition of what makes memoir, memoir. Read as much as you can to discover what’s possible in memoir. It will open your horizons and help you land on the best style for you and your writing.

I know this tool-kit is not exhaustive, and I welcome your feedback if you have other tools you’d like to add. If this grows into a much-visited post, we’ll add it to the Resources section on Memoir Nation.

Thank you, and keep writing!