Beware of ideas

Another great writing teacher of mine, Susan Wheeler of the University of New Hampshire, had a favorite saying: "Beware of ideas."

One might think of Susan's command here as a corollary to another well-known bit of advice for writers: "Kill your darlings."

In other words, don't get overly fond of your big fat idea or the marvelous characters or plot you've worked out. If you've got parts of your book that absolutely, positively can't be tampered with, you're wrong. Tamper you must.

When I started to research my grandmother's actual, verifiable history, I was certain that process would end in my writing a book of historical nonfiction about her and the life that happened to poor girls in the early 1900s. I would use her personal details to explore how the social institutions of the early 1900s treated poor families. Ultimately, I would probably end up railing against what happened to her, though at the time I knew not who or what to rail about, or why. I also imagined myself coming to a complete understanding of what made the grandmother I had known tick.

What part of her family life had shaped her into the woman who l knew? The woman who loved to drink Grasshoppers, but rarely prepared meals for anyone, not the least of which were her grandchildren. I thought I'd get at the root of what appeared to be expensive tastes that went beyond her laborer husband's wages. I thought I'd uncover hidden fortunes or bequests, a personal boom that went bust, a sugar-daddy in her past, or some such secret.

Secrets were uncovered, but none that I expected. And, in the end, the book I would write would be a work of fiction because that seemed the only way for me to fill the yawning gaps in my grandmother's life story. I'll tell you more about those secrets here another time. Let's just say for now, "darlings" were killed. "Ideas" were tossed on the garbage heap. My grandmother's spirit seemed to have other plans for her granddaughter's halting attempts at putting it all down on paper.