Writing the Question
By Brunonia Barry | February 10, 2011 |
My writing room is like a shadow box. It contains all the elements of story, collected as I go, until every available surface is covered. The walls of my shadow box are lined with old National Geographic maps. Many of the countries have been renamed or have changed boundaries since the wall was papered, sometime back in the mid- sixties, before my time here. The room has four big windows, and in the thirteen years we’ve lived in the house, the view has changed many times. Our neighbors planted a hosta garden, the couple across the street divorced and moved away. One house burned to the ground. Another was built. There are six new dogs in the neighborhood and three wonderful young children. A beloved neighbor has died.
Change is part of the view from this room, and change is part of the shadow box itself. Every time I finish a book, the room is emptied to make room for the new story and for the question it will invariably ask. There is one thing, however, that never changes. It is a greeting card pinned above my computer that displays the following Rainer Maria Rilke quote:
Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a foreign language. Do not seek the answers, which cannot be given you now because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way to the answer. . .
They say that the only constant in life is change. And while that is certainly true on a number of levels, it is my experience that the only constant in a writer’s life is the question.
Every work of fiction starts with a single question: What if?
My first book began with the following question: What if a young woman who’d left her home to save herself and her sanity had to go back to save someone she loved?
As humans, a universal motivational force is to create some kind of order from chaos. For a fiction writer this is even more true. We not only try to bring order to chaos, but, as writers, we actually create the chaos, or so I believed when I started The Lace Reader. By the time I finished I wasn’t so sure. We may create the chaos of our stories, but do we control it? While I had once believed that I could direct the fate of my characters, it just wasn’t so. Each time I dropped my characters into the chaos I had created, I didn’t get answers. All I got were more questions.
And the questions kept coming, all through the first draft and well into the second. In some ways the process was like working with a good therapist — the questions became more and more meaningful until they finally revealed the big question that had always been at the core of the story, the one I had been unable to see:
What is the difference between perception and reality?
My entire novel had revolved around that question, but there was a reason I hadn’t been able to see it. As a first time author, I never would have tried to tackle something so profound. Or, if I had been silly enough to try, I might have actually tried to answer that question which could have been far worse.
I have come to believe that our job as fiction writers is not to answer the profound questions but to pose them in a new way, one that will inspire our readers to thought and discussion. Our characters still have to arc, our plots must be tied up, but the big questions should simply be asked.
My second book, The Map of True Places, began with a different question: What if a psychologist crossed an ethical boundary that might have resulted in a patient’s death?
That was the initial question, the logline. But in the ten years that had elapsed between my first and second book, our world had changed. 9/11 had taken our innocence. Our economy was failing.
Another deeper question emerged as a result of these changes: What do we do when the maps of our life suddenly fail us, and we are forced to find our way through unfamiliar territory on our own?
As this last question was asked, more began to appear: What is home? What is family? What do we owe an aging and ailing parent? What is the difference between predestination and free will? What in the world can we count on when people are lying not only to us but to themselves?
These questions flew around my shadow box as I wrote until they ultimately revealed the final, deeper question. It was a doozy:
What is truth?
Any writer would need a huge ego to think she could answer that one.
I am now working on my third novel, and I am getting accustomed to the process. Like the other two, it began with a small question which is leading to a much larger one. For me, finding that big question and learning to pose it are the reasons I sit down in my shadow box every day to write.
I would love to hear your thoughts on the subject. What is your motivation for writing? What questions are you asking?
Answers are just echoes, they say. But a question travels before it comes back, and that’s what counts. William Stafford
photo courtesy Liz West
Brunonia Barry is the New York Times and internationally bestselling author of The Lace Reader, The Map of True Places, and The Fifth Petal, chosen #1 of Strand Magazine’s Top 25 Books of 2017. Her work has been translated into more than thirty languages and has been an Amazon Best of the Month and a People Magazine Pick. Barry was the first American author to win the International Women’s Fiction Festival’s Baccante Award and was a past recipient of Ragdale Artists’ Colony’s Strnad Invitational Fellowship as well as the winner of New England Book Festival’s award for Best Fiction. Her reviews and articles on writing have appeared in The London Times, The Washington Post, and The Huffington Post. Brunonia served as chairperson of the Salem Athenaeum’s Writers’ Committee, as Executive Director of the Salem Literary Festival, and as a member of Grub Street’s Development Committee. She lives in Salem, Massachusetts with her husband, Gary Ward, and their dog, Angel.
I love that you do a shadow box. I do a collage for my books on poster board with photos of actors who look like characters (Nina Badzin taught me that one), leaves, sequins, colors, landscape picture postcards, etc. It helps me draw on colors and textures because my imagination unfortunately comes in black-and-white.
The book I just finished (and the book I’m researching now) explore how people use one another–in life and in fiction. Does that use ever empower, or does it only diminish them. I thought I knew the answer when I started, but eight drafts later I find there are no black and white answers and I couldn’t have predicted where it would take me.
I love imagining your workspace and window. I’m a bit of a voyeur for other writers’ places and processes, so I really love this post. Thanks for getting me thinking this early.
I find that if I don’t write I have the potential to explode. I don’t want to hurl obscenities to passers-by, sever relationships, or, worse, suppress my emotions. Better to unleash them on the page. The chance of someone getting hurt is reduced significantly.
Right now I’m working on the feelings of being trapped. I like this concept of a shadow box. I may just have to steal it.
You’ve described a process that’s almost identical to my own: start with a simple idea, see it morph, wait with hope that it’ll all make sense eventually, feel grateful when it does. My second story is very different from my first, but the questions are similar.
I start with an image and the what if grows from there.
Ten years between your first and your second novel? Phew! That makes me feel better and gives me hope for my second book (which I’m just starting years after completing my first one.) :)
Erika, my blog post from last week showed my writing space, so you can feed your voyeuristic tendencies by taking a peek, if you wish!
Judy (South Africa)
[…] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Ami Mattison and Tracy Hahn-Burkett, Erika Robuck. Erika Robuck said: Great post by Brunonia Barry at Writer Unboxed today on questions as catalysts for our writing. https://bit.ly/ifLmq8 […]
Condensing the theme of a story into the question, “What if?” is an excellent way to stay focused. I tend to imagine setting first and then the emotions that eveolve as a result of being exposed to the setting. I love you points that the story presents a question and whiel many show the answer, some allow the reader to make his own conclusions. I will readdress a first draft with the “What if?” question and see if it reduces clutter. Thanks.
Thanks for a thoughtful post, and a lovely glimpse into your writing room!
I love that you’ve asked, “what is truth?” That us the single question that inspires every story idea I have, along with: “how can these characters find and experience truth? What’s keeping them from doing so? And what happens if and when they do?” Waking up from “lying to oneself” is a big theme, for example, in Veronica’s Nap.
What a beautifully written post. It reminds me of a post I read last week on another blog about “finding the question your story asks”, but from a totally different perspective.
I think you’re exactly right about the first question invariably being “what if…”. I tend to find new questions spiraling out as I write, and new truths don’t always follow, often until long after I’ve put down the question.
To answer your questions, my motivation for writing is to express my belief that, as bad as people can be to each other, humanity’s true beauty and strength is our ability to love. I ask a lot of questions of my characters, and part of the reason I write genre fiction is because it makes these questions a little different, a little removed, but still poignant. I like to ask my characters, what will you choose to do? I love to test what they’re made of.
Erika, I love the question you’re exploring. What a fascinating subject!
Thanks for the tip about pictures of actors, Anne. I don’t usually describe my characters in too much detail, but I always know exactly what they look like. This might be fun.
To MacDougal Street Baby: I once stopped writing for a year and a half. I felt as if I had lost my soul.
Judy, I’m going to check out your writing space now.
I love the Rilke quote, Brunonia. One of my all-time favorite songs is ‘Rilkean Heart’, by the Cocteau Twins, in which Liz Fraser relates, almost apologetically, how she had been searching too hard for answers rather than reveling in being ‘connected with something beyond me’.
I, like you, was naive enough when I started writing to believe I could control the fates of my characters. That my characters, even my stories, have fates of their own has been one of the greatest wonders of my life. I am finally, with hindsight, coming to realize that I all I need do is pose the questions, and to revel in being ‘connected with something beyond me.’
Thanks for a beautiful post.
The questions I asked in my first novel were…well, I didn’t really ask questions. What I realized five years into the process was that I was writing what I believed and knew most deeply to be true about life. I was writing my “life themes.” I think we all have them, and I expect that all my stories will carry those themes in some variation or other.
So I write so I can know at different periods what I believe about life, why we have to suffer, what happens when we make different meaning of it. I think I write to say, “We are all human. We all go through it.” And if I can find and write some humor into it, especially absurd humor in the midst of something truly terrible—the kind that shocks your brain speechless before you burst out laughing against your will through snot and hiccup tears and used Kleenex—that is the best (and it is supremely awesome if your readers do it, too). I write so I can see through my characters that I can and will be alright, too. But most important of all: I write because it’s FUN for me!
Lauren: I love your motivation. The world needs your stories.
Sharon: I think “what is truth” may be the universal question. I keep coming back to it as well.
Therese: I expect that the questions will always be similar, but I’m only midway into book three, and it might be too early to tell. They are certainly related.
Janie: I sometimes start with an image of setting as well. The question seems to come from that first image.
I have the hardest time with this, because I want all questions to be answered. This is caused by my motivation for writing: my desire to change things. I think posing questions instead of answers takes a lot of trust in the reader. I have to let go of the reins and believe that readers will understand me and do something good with what I have to say without me telling them what to do.
This is a wonderful post. I don’t start consciously with “what if,” but subconsciously that’s all that I’m asking. I love the concept of your writing room… and your quote about change. A lot to think about.
This made me think about the books I’ve written, and I think there’s one common thread. They all deal with “Who Am I?” Throughout the books, there are lots of the What If? questions and I also ask myself, “Why this? Why now?” as I go.
Terry
Terry’s Place
Romance with a Twist–of Mystery
Vaughn: Rilkean Heart is a great song! Thank you.
Leslie: I love your overwhelming reason. In these days of deadlines and not enough time, it’s good to remember that writing is fun. Thanks for that.
Teralyn: it does take a certain trust in the reader not to answer the big question, but it think that the relationship between reader and writer is collaborative. There are times when I’m disappointed in what readers take away from my books but not very often.
Thank you so much, Cathy.
Terry: The question “Who am I?” comes up a lot for me too, especially in my last book.
I love the image of your study as a shadow-box, mine looks more like a used book store. One of the dusty ones with piles that could topple over at a breath.
Ah Pamela, I’m with you! I did a little clearing out between books and started a peg board for my current WIP, but I wish I had the discipline to really clear out and only allow current stuff.
Loved this essay and the Rilke quote!
[…] This post was mentioned on Twitter by sarahannereads and Brunonia Barry, Riley Carney. Riley Carney said: Great Post: Writing the Question-"Every work of fiction starts with a single question: What if? by author Brunonia Barry https://ow.ly/3TTdV […]
Brunonia, you are such an inspiration!
Yes, what ifs creep up in writing fiction so often. I find myself pondering more questions even while I’m writing the answer to a previous what if.
My first novel asks “what if an innocent bystander was dropped in the middle of a war–and on the enemy’s side?” What would she learn about others and most importantly, about herself. While finding these things out, and in turn, uncovering layer after layer of our characters, writing fiction becomes such an intense and fulfilling process.
I love this blog! And can’t wait to explore more with you about writing!
Kristie
Wonderful, wonderful post!
I have to clear my office between projects, too, or I have no room.
My questions are always about “why do bad things happen?” How do people survive those things? How do we love and help each other through them? Where is God in all this?
Like you, I often don’t know the real question I’m writing to answer until I’m nearly finished with a book. I think my girls in the basement are worried that I’ll run away if I know too soon.
This post and the comments have given me so many creative ideas for writing.
Thanks Brunonia for stirring up such a response!
Patricia
Pamela and Carleen: By the time I finish a book, my shadow box is dusty and so cluttered I can barely move though all I have collected. I have to clean it out to make room for new ideas.
Kristie: That was such a great idea for a first novel. You don’t have to worry about creating conflict, it’s right there.
Barbara: I’m a fan of your writing. And I love the idea of the girls in the basement.
Pam: I’m learning so much from these comments. It’s so great to exchange ideas with other writers.
Beautiful post, Brunonia! I love your shadow box concept. I keep all of my notes, photos and other pieces of inspiration tucked away in folders because I share my home office with my husband. But, I imagine it must be so helpful to be surrounded by all of those wonderful things as you’re writing. I’ll have to try that!
Thank you Erika. I used to share an office with my husband, but he moved to a different room. I think he got tired of my shadow box collections.
I don’t know if it’s me or not, but I’ve finished a few books, most in horrifying shape and desperate need of editing, but finished. And I can’t seem to pinpoint anything resembling a process. Every one seems different. The people are different, the places are different, and how they come together all seem different. I have no process other than get everything out as fast as I can before the inspiration leaves.
Wow, what a thought provoking, inspiring post! We all have different questions (mine are more the bent of how the human spirit can overcome horrible events) but it is about questions, and how we pose them.
It seems to me that this is the line between an aspiring writer, and a published one…not trying to answer the question, but show one way through it.
Your shadowbox reminded me of my office walls decorated with my magazine clippings of inspirational images. Inspiring to my creativity, for sure.
Wow. Excellent post! I love the quote on the card you keep each time you start a new story/shadowbox. I too collect words and pictures and things, but I build over them. It’s fun to look under the layers and remember where I was at a certain time in my writing. (usually, I am forced to when the words and pictures get too heavy for the wall)
[…] and I just found a great article by the aforementioned author, Brunonia Barry, at the fantastic blog, Writer […]
What an inspiring article. This post is full of wisdom for writers at all levels. Thank you so much for sharing. I just finished boasting about The Lace Reader, which I finished reading yesterday (and adore), and so I had to link to this page on my blog.
I have a little nook in my office where I hang things like calendars and photos. When I sit at the desk, I could be surrounded by whatever I choose, although I haven’t exactly created a shadow box. I tend to travel around the house with my laptop, but it’s nice to know that my writing has a haven somewhere if I need my own space.
I think your questions could cure anyone’s writer’s block in a second. One important part of writing is that we constantly challenge ourselves with thought-provoking questions like the ones you mention, knowing that we don’t have the answers but willing to explore the questions thoroughly through our writing. The great thing about such questions is that they cannot be answered, but we can learn very much from simply asking them.