Memories, Dreams, Reflections

                                   Photo credit: Sindre Strom, via Pexels

"I would find myself laughing and wondering where these ideas came from. You can call it imagination, I suppose. But I was grateful for wherever they came from." – Amy Tan

I recently watched Amy Tan's Master Class, Fiction, Memory and Imagination. (Yes, here's yet another mention of Master Class, and yes, I still think it's worth the price of admission and then some). And while I'm not necessarily inclined to write the type of fiction that has earned Ms. Tan a huge number of literary prizes and acclaim as one of the most successful contemporary fiction writers of her time (my forays into anything resembling biography tend to be brief), I learned plenty from the class.

Whether we're writing about cultural and familial traditions or not, the emotions attached to our memories can be a powerful force in the creation of a story. In fact, those emotions help make our stories ring true. Fiction, by definition is not true, of course, but it must be grounded in reality to resonate with the reader. Amy Tan said, "Fiction is actually one of the best ways for finding truth." I've absolutely discovered that to be so as I've found my voice as a writer.

No matter what kind of story we're driven to share, we'll connect with readers if we start with the emotions behind said story. And the deeper the emotions, the more charged the connection. Researchers have discovered that our memories of traumatic or dramatic events—often referred to as 'flashbulb memories'—are hardwired in our brains and therefore tend to be more reliable than happy memories, which contain more sensory details. Those memories, rooted in our senses, often seem more positive in retrospect. We can actually change memories by how we talk about past experiences and with the words we use to describe them, making the warm and fuzzy even more so.

Swiss psychiatrist, Carl Jung, upon deciding to tell his life's story at the age of 84, framed the events of his life and work with the emotions of his inner world. To Jung, the psyche was a profound reality. "Nights through dreams tell the myths forgotten by the day," is my favorite of his quotes.

Creative types talk about our muses quite a bit. Ethereal beings aside, what is a muse if not imagination steeped in memory with a healthy does of creativity? And the stories summoned are reflections of our personal myths, our memories, our dreams.