The Story Spills Out
Elizabeth's first draft: the backstory
I was always held back by the sense that nothing I did was ever good enough — a message I’d gotten at home, growing up. I perpetuated this feeling with self-defeating choices. In my architectural office, I felt impelled to prioritize pleasing the clients and deferring to the staff, something I often regretted. The bad feelings piled up and, after my largest project ever, I gave up architecture altogether and closed my office. I had a string of ideas I wanted to pursue next but abandoned each at the first sign of negative feedback. I sent a query for my book to one agent, and when she didn’t respond put the manuscript in a drawer — for eight years!
Over time, I went to several excellent therapists, hoping to free myself from this negative mindset. All my psychiatrists helped me in many ways, including in understanding the source of my constant self-criticism. But simply knowing where it came from, intellectually, didn’t make it go away. Nothing did — except the process of editing and publishing my book.
The impact on me has been remarkable, extraordinary, in fact. A typical essay that used to take me months to write, as I struggled through a swamp of doubt, now takes only a couple of weeks. Imaginary hurdles that used to derail me, such as worrying that any essay I’m contemplating has already been written by other, smarter people, now evaporate as soon as I start working. I feel supercharged, as though the boxed-up energy of my entire previous life is suddenly available. I lived with an inner voice that sabotaged everything I did for so long, I could hardly believe it when, one day, I suddenly realized it was gone! It felt like…magic.
The idea for the memoir itself seemed to have fallen into my lap. I’d noticed that my parents were declining in bizarre ways after they retired and started spending winters in Mexico, and I was astonished by their completely out-of-character behavior. “What great material,” I thought. Actually, their behavior was quite disturbing. My mother became involved with a sketchy couple she treated as her “good” children who could do no wrong, while I, their only child, could do nothing right. And then, after her death, my father became obsessed with getting his housekeepers — a string of outrageous oddballs — into bed. I was completely unable to thwart any of this.
In truth, I was furious at my parents. They were domineering and had volcanic tempers that intimidated me into never asserting myself with them. While the strange doings were ongoing, I felt responsible to protect them from themselves in their decline, but they were completely dismissive of me. So, when much of their behavior struck me as really funny, I enjoyed regaling my friends with descriptions of their crazy decisions and iffy new friends. And, after they died, I turned this comic monologue into a first draft.
There was a sizable revenge factor driving the writing, but, essentially, I was trying to make sense of what had happened. Everything I write starts from a question I’m hooked on. And here were some very big and intriguing questions. How could my parents have changed so radically? What did I really know about them? Who were they, really? I was sure there was some way to make sense of what had gone on, but I had no idea what that might be.
When I sat down to write, the story came pouring out in a flood, over several months. The writing was cathartic. It felt great. Just finding the words to express thoughts and feelings I’d dammed up for years was bliss, pure bliss. I sailed along.
But, at the same time, I knew I was just writing an account of strange, funny events. I was only focused on accurately recalling and recording what had occurred, on fleshing out the stories I’d been telling my friends. But I was aware that my account wouldn’t necessarily be convincing. When I told these stories to my friends, I was telling people who knew me well; many of them even knew my parents! But to be believed by anonymous readers, I’d have to earn their trust. I’d have to make everyone in the story real, 3-dimensional. The characters couldn’t be clowns.
The trouble began when I tried to edit what I’d written, to get to the complex truth of who we all were. I’d decided early on that I was going to start the book with a scene at Thanksgiving in my parents’ apartment, because it was then that I first realized something was up with them. At dinner, my mother announced a decision so misguided, I could hardly believe it.
She was planning to buy a used car — sight unseen — through a Mexican lawyer she’d described as sketchy…practically the definition of a dumb move. My parents were in their 80s, hardly the time of life to be buying an unreliable car. Plus, they had reason to suspect that the lawyer had already cheated them on the purchase of their new retirement condo. And now they were going to buy a used car they’d never seen — through him?
My mother prefaced her announcement with the words “Don't say a word!” She knew that what she was doing was nuts, and she didn't want to hear me say so. She was going to do it, no matter what.
When the idea of starting the book with the Thanksgiving scene came to me, it was accompanied by another idea. My mother said, “Don’t say a word!”? Well…what if I wrote 100,000 words she wouldn’t want to hear? After a lifetime of being squelched by her, here was my chance to speak up. What could be more perfect? I'd start the book with her gag order. And it could also be the title! The whole book would be a defiance. All these thoughts came as a package. I simply received it, or so it seemed…
(to be continued)
Rather than go on with the account, our next several posts will take up topics prompted by what I’ve recounted so far, subjects that Barbara and I will dig into together.
If you missed our first, introductory post, please find it in the archive. You may find the information in it useful, going forward.
You can subscribe for free to have all the next posts delivered to your inbox, and we hope you will!
If you know someone who would be interested in our Substack (and would like to help us spread the word, please share it.
As always, if you have any questions or other ideas about any of this, PLEASE let us know in the comments section below.