My second memoir, about the abuse in my small country school, was triggered by an event tied to a memory. It leapt out when I met a man I didn't know, but he had the same hands as the teacher in my school. At first I didn't realise it - I criticised this man over and over using scathing remarks and then realised what I was doing. But how do you tell someone he has the same hands as a pedophile? However, when I wrote the memoir, I used this incident as the first chapter of the book to show how trauma can hide in the brain and then leap out at you when you least expect it.
Yes, absolutely - and then we have to face it, incorporate it into our conscious knowledge in order to really deal with it - not deny it or "forget it" again
As I went through some old journals a couple months ago I found sections where I recounted dreams I'd had. It made me wish I had done that more often - connections between waking life and dreaming life I can see now that I don't think I made at the time. Maybe I'll keep a notebook on my nightstand again.
Great post. I find the workings of memory and dreams endlessly fascinating. (And thanks for the giggles from that film clip.) I've been fortunate to receive ideas for several short stories and a few entire books directly from my dreams, though it's been a while. Maybe the dream muse is waiting for me to finish writing what she's already given me before I get any more 🤷🏻♀️
I love this post. Thank you, Brooke - and especially the Inside Out video. Years ago I went through something I had read about: keep a journal and pen by your bed, set your alarm for every 2 or 3 hours, and write down what's in your head each time the alarm goes off. I had no memory of most of the stuff I had written down next morning.
Yes, memory pops! I agree—so good to have a name for it. I also have pops of lovely strings of words, which help me get going when I sit down to write. Thanks for the book recommendation. I am fascinated by my own dreams.
It happens when I’m writing poetry or short prose, I’ve described it as a memory popping up, or bubbling up, but never labeled the phenomenon a “memory pop” - I love it! I watched a craft talk by Ellen Bass on the long arm poem (which I also didn’t know was a thing) which gives a label for a type of poem where memory pops happen (see how good that works!!) and all the nuggets from the past get scooped up and layered into the poem. I think that happens a lot in all sorts of writing. Your example above sparked a memory of being up in the middle of the night in my yellow fuzzy footy pajamas, my two big sisters nearby, looking out the bay window at my Dad’s car driving away after a short shouting match with my mom. She looked at us, gave me a popsicle, and said “well, now we can get a dog.” We never got a dog, because thank goodness we got our dad back. He was the best. I can’t imagine who we would be without his unconditional love.
Yes, those "memory pops" happen so often, many times through sensory experiences. LIke Proust, I guess. (I happen to be drinking a cup of tea right now, no madeleines though.) I'll be writing with everyone in the Janyourstory. Looking forward to the commitment and discovering what wants to come to the page.
Thanks for this post and the recommendation of Nightmare Obscura. Will have to get it. Dreams are fascinating, and frustrating, because they seem to be beat me over the head until I get things. But I even see nightmares as my friends now. Have gotten much out of my dreams over the years, and yet, like you, I've long hoped for one so "big" it would the key to my understanding something huge that would make everything that doesn't make sense right now make sense. Have had several that seem that big--so powerful they felt like they could be the one--but what they mean(t) remains a mystery to me. Dream on!
When I was in Jungian analysis I kept dream journals. I trained myself to wake up and write down the dream and go back to sleep throughout the night. I had volumes and volumes. These days I'm doing a lot of dreaming again but most often, they vanish when I awake. I've thought about getting up to write them down, but not there yet.
At 69, I've discovered that the full and rich life I live seems to force my brain, as you suggest, to let go of earlier experiences. There's only so much room in those brain filing cabinets! Just the other day, I pulled out a collection of linked short stories I wrote a dozen years ago, mostly curious if the writing held up. What I discovered was that the stories (based quite a bit on my own experiences) included details I had forgotten over time. It was such a wonderful memory lollipop, for sure. And points out the importance of writing experiences down in a journal, (or in essays or short stories) as you suggest, Brooke, to protect against the brain's tidiness proclivities. Oh, and I was also surprised that I loved the writing. Lots of editing needed, but very good stuff there, and time resuscitate it.
Thank you for a fascinating post -- one that resonates on a personal level. There is surely much more to learn about dreams and creativity.
The plots to several of my novels (and a novella) and the thematic material to music I composed were virtually "dictated" to me through my dreams. Since I frequently write and/or compose in a mild trance state, I am not always certain where the scene or musical passage will take me when I begin a project. In fact, I have quipped that it is not so much that I am writing as that I am being written!
My second memoir, about the abuse in my small country school, was triggered by an event tied to a memory. It leapt out when I met a man I didn't know, but he had the same hands as the teacher in my school. At first I didn't realise it - I criticised this man over and over using scathing remarks and then realised what I was doing. But how do you tell someone he has the same hands as a pedophile? However, when I wrote the memoir, I used this incident as the first chapter of the book to show how trauma can hide in the brain and then leap out at you when you least expect it.
Thanks for sharing this. I think this is very common. Our subconscious trying to tell our conscious mind something so important.
Yes, absolutely - and then we have to face it, incorporate it into our conscious knowledge in order to really deal with it - not deny it or "forget it" again
As I went through some old journals a couple months ago I found sections where I recounted dreams I'd had. It made me wish I had done that more often - connections between waking life and dreaming life I can see now that I don't think I made at the time. Maybe I'll keep a notebook on my nightstand again.
I'm going to try this too! :)
Great post. I find the workings of memory and dreams endlessly fascinating. (And thanks for the giggles from that film clip.) I've been fortunate to receive ideas for several short stories and a few entire books directly from my dreams, though it's been a while. Maybe the dream muse is waiting for me to finish writing what she's already given me before I get any more 🤷🏻♀️
I love this post. Thank you, Brooke - and especially the Inside Out video. Years ago I went through something I had read about: keep a journal and pen by your bed, set your alarm for every 2 or 3 hours, and write down what's in your head each time the alarm goes off. I had no memory of most of the stuff I had written down next morning.
Yes, memory pops! I agree—so good to have a name for it. I also have pops of lovely strings of words, which help me get going when I sit down to write. Thanks for the book recommendation. I am fascinated by my own dreams.
It happens when I’m writing poetry or short prose, I’ve described it as a memory popping up, or bubbling up, but never labeled the phenomenon a “memory pop” - I love it! I watched a craft talk by Ellen Bass on the long arm poem (which I also didn’t know was a thing) which gives a label for a type of poem where memory pops happen (see how good that works!!) and all the nuggets from the past get scooped up and layered into the poem. I think that happens a lot in all sorts of writing. Your example above sparked a memory of being up in the middle of the night in my yellow fuzzy footy pajamas, my two big sisters nearby, looking out the bay window at my Dad’s car driving away after a short shouting match with my mom. She looked at us, gave me a popsicle, and said “well, now we can get a dog.” We never got a dog, because thank goodness we got our dad back. He was the best. I can’t imagine who we would be without his unconditional love.
Thanks for sharing this, Julie. Funny response from your mom and I'm also glad you got your dad back!!!
🙏
Yes, those "memory pops" happen so often, many times through sensory experiences. LIke Proust, I guess. (I happen to be drinking a cup of tea right now, no madeleines though.) I'll be writing with everyone in the Janyourstory. Looking forward to the commitment and discovering what wants to come to the page.
Yay, glad you'll be doing JanYourStory, Judy. Will be wonderful to know you're out there in the trenches with me!
Definitely will be looking into "JanYourStory." Thanks!!
Love the phrase “memory pops.” Am writing a book of poetry called Life and the Memory Of It, sort of a sneaky way to write a memoir!
Thanks for this post and the recommendation of Nightmare Obscura. Will have to get it. Dreams are fascinating, and frustrating, because they seem to be beat me over the head until I get things. But I even see nightmares as my friends now. Have gotten much out of my dreams over the years, and yet, like you, I've long hoped for one so "big" it would the key to my understanding something huge that would make everything that doesn't make sense right now make sense. Have had several that seem that big--so powerful they felt like they could be the one--but what they mean(t) remains a mystery to me. Dream on!
I love this idea of befriending your nightmares.
When I was in Jungian analysis I kept dream journals. I trained myself to wake up and write down the dream and go back to sleep throughout the night. I had volumes and volumes. These days I'm doing a lot of dreaming again but most often, they vanish when I awake. I've thought about getting up to write them down, but not there yet.
At 69, I've discovered that the full and rich life I live seems to force my brain, as you suggest, to let go of earlier experiences. There's only so much room in those brain filing cabinets! Just the other day, I pulled out a collection of linked short stories I wrote a dozen years ago, mostly curious if the writing held up. What I discovered was that the stories (based quite a bit on my own experiences) included details I had forgotten over time. It was such a wonderful memory lollipop, for sure. And points out the importance of writing experiences down in a journal, (or in essays or short stories) as you suggest, Brooke, to protect against the brain's tidiness proclivities. Oh, and I was also surprised that I loved the writing. Lots of editing needed, but very good stuff there, and time resuscitate it.
There is only so much room! 😂 And I love this term, too: memory lollipop. Such a great visual.
Emotional truth vs. factual truth. Such an important distinction. Thank you. 🙏
Thank you for a fascinating post -- one that resonates on a personal level. There is surely much more to learn about dreams and creativity.
The plots to several of my novels (and a novella) and the thematic material to music I composed were virtually "dictated" to me through my dreams. Since I frequently write and/or compose in a mild trance state, I am not always certain where the scene or musical passage will take me when I begin a project. In fact, I have quipped that it is not so much that I am writing as that I am being written!
Thanks for these juicy and tempting ideas, the potpourri of dreams, memory, writing,pops and all manner of the mysteries .
I’ve used a few of vivid, shapely dreams in my writing. The book and interview sound fascinating. Great tip!