Episode Transcript
[00:00:00] Elizabeth: Hello and welcome to The Intuitive Writing Podcast, a production of The Intuitive Writing Project, a writing-based empowerment program for girls and gender-expansive youth. We are dedicated to giving young writers a safe, encouraging, non-critical, unconditionally supportive space to write their story, speak their truth, and assert their voice, both as writers and as leaders.
For a bit of background, my name is Elizabeth and I created this program eleven years ago because it's what I wanted and needed when I was young, a supportive place to be truly seen and heard. That's why we use The Amherst Writing Method, a radically nurturing and empowering writing methodology I wish everyone learned in grade school. You can read more about the Amherst Method on their website and in Pat Schneider's groundbreaking book, Writing Alone and with Others. But the basic principles and the ones that guide all of our classes are number one: everyone is a writer with important stories to tell. Number two, everyone has their own unique voice, a voice that needs to be heard. And number three, our voice will grow stronger and clearer the more it is supported and positively affirmed in our classes. Everyone writes together, everyone shares their writing, and then everyone takes turns giving each other grounded, positive feedback. By that I mean, we repeat back and lift up the words, lines, phrases or concepts. That really resonated for us, since we can't violate the sanctity of our classes by recording what goes on there. These one-on-one or three people conversations are designed to provide a little glimpse, a microcosm of what happens in the classroom. You can also read about our and read our students words as they were published on our blog, The Intuitive Voice, with the link below. If you enjoy listening to one young reader read their words and talk about it, imagine how powerful it is when six young writers are reading their words and giving each other positive, affirming feedback. It's pretty life changing, and there is a lot more I could say about it, but I'll let these young writers speak for themselves.
On behalf of all the writers at The Intuitive Writing Project, I want to thank you for supporting their voices, for being present and really listening to the wisdom, insight and brilliance of young people today.
Today I am so excited and happy and honored to be able to interview two extraordinary young writers who happen to be sisters. Maxine and Stella Pollock are an incredible, powerful duo who have written with us at different times. Actually, you guys never quite overlapped, I don't think, but are both exceptional and have their own unique writing voice. They're similar and yet totally unique, and I'm so happy to have them today and I'm going to have them introduce themselves. If you all would tell us your name, your age, your pronouns, when you started writing with us, and then also where you'll be going to school, and what grade you’re in. In Maxine's case, tell us what college you'll be attending. Maxine, why don't you start us off?
[00:03:35] Maxine: Hi. My name is Maxine. My pronouns are she/her, and I'm 18 years old, and I just graduated high school, and I'm going to be doing a dual degree program where I spend my first two years in France and then two years at UC Berkeley in the fall.
[00:03:52] Elizabeth: And tell us again what you're studying.
[00:03:54] Maxine: So I'm going to do politics and government in France and then legal studies at Berkeley, hoping to go to law school. And I also started writing with the Intuitive Writing Project, I think, in fifth grade.
[00:04:07] Elizabeth: That's amazing. Yeah, we started 1:1, and then you joined a group of girls who were a year older than you, but you fit in seamlessly.
In fact, I remember just a quick anecdote. I remember your father emailed me before I met you and sent me a sample of your writing, a story that you had written just to see if I thought you had potential. And I was like, oh, my God, this is the most amazing piece of writing! I can't believe she's only ten! Yes! I definitely want to work with her! But, like, right out of the gate, you were incredible.
Stella, tell us about yourself.
[00:04:46] Stella: Hi, I'm Stella. I am 16, so I'm going to be a junior in the fall, and my pronouns are she, her. I go to a boarding school in Canada, on Vancouver Island, so it'll be my third year there when I go back.
[00:05:00] Elizabeth: Nice. And then you just started this summer, right?
[00:05:04] Stella: I did, yeah. It was like, end of June. So really haven't been doing it for a long time, but I've had a lot of fun in all my classes, and yeah, it's been great.
[00:05:12] Elizabeth: That's amazing. You have, not unlike your sister, come out of the gate with very strong, amazing writing from the very beginning. But I do want to say and I say this all the time, and I can't say it enough… our belief is that everyone is a writer, everyone is a storyteller because we're human. This is what we do. We tell stories. Everything that comes out of our mouth is a story. And when we're talking, we're telling stories on the air. And I think a lot of times we feel we doubt ourselves as writers, often because of English class. I hate to say a lot of us get shamed or judged of English class, and we feel like we're not good at it, but we really are. And I think it's not a matter of, can you do it, do you want to do it? And are you willing to try? So, Stella, you were willing to try, I guess because you saw Maxine. It didn't kill Maxine. It's not deadly, so you were willing to try it. But you have to be brave enough to try and to give yourself time and we're going to talk about this at the end. You have to be willing to sit with that blank page at the beginning and trust that if you just keep moving your hand or just spit something out, there's going to be something worthwhile that you're going to wind up with in the end. But that's really scary and it's really hard to give yourself that time and space and to take the risk. So that's why I'm so happy you're both here to talk about writing. I'm going to have you both read a piece, and Maxine, I'm going to start with you. Since you are elder writer, the piece you're going to read, I'll just quickly mention it's called Colors in My Head, and it was written very auspiciously last summer at our 10th anniversary party writing party, which was amazing. So this is now, of course, our 11th anniversary, and I just remember being blown away by it. So if you would go ahead and read Colors in My Head.
[00:07:16] Maxine: It was another unremarkable afternoon. I was walking up the hill to my house, the sun beating down my legs, struggling to take the next step, pondering the insanity of my own existence. As a kid, I would have anxiety attacks where I became hyper aware of my surroundings, and every noise would grow faster and louder until it crescendoed, and all I could hear was a deafening roar in my own frantic breathing. My therapist used to say it was because my mind was too powerful and working overtime, though that was likely his way of explaining anxiety to a seven year old. However, as I've gotten older, these working overtime thoughts remain. Driving to volleyball, I'm thinking about the absurdity of evolution and how we ended up with highways and bluetooth and electric cars, or in math class. I'm marveling at how so many little things had to occur in order for everyone to be in this classroom at this exact moment. Maybe these thoughts aren't unique. Maybe the person next to me is thinking the same thing. But neither of us will turn to the other and divulge our inner monologues, so we instead sit at our desks and allow our minds to drift separately. I think it's easier to attribute most of my thoughts to my mind. That never shuts off. For every waking hour I spend thinking about the world around me, my emotions are looking inward, analyzing and critiquing the girl who harbors them. Green looks in the mirror and points out every pimple, curve or hair that's out of place. Sometimes red takes over and I have to turn away, walking down a crowded street or talking with a group of people. Purple will take the wheel. He's been doing a lot of the driving recently. Purple commands me to adjust my shirt, fix my hair, stand up straight, smile, be likable, and make it all look natural. When I'm alone in my room again, blue gains control as I reflect on what went wrong and what I could have done better. I try to bring Yellow's warm glow forward so she can shine her light and make it all go away, but she remains quiet. I shiver purple, examines the suggested timeline and determines that I'm behind. He rubs his sweaty palms together and tells me I'm missing out. I observe what everybody else is doing, listen to tales of their wild escapades, smile, nod, and feel my chest tighten. Why am I different? Why do I think about things like the improbability of existence and bluetooth instead of parties and boys? I sigh as I reach the top of the hill and sit on the front stairs, closing my eyes. Green, red, blue, purple, and yellow flash from the space between my eyelids, all fighting for a chance to be in front. I lean back, hands on my temples, and feel myself let go as the sounds around me grow faster and louder and faster and louder.
[00:09:43] Elizabeth: This is such an incredible piece, and if I didn't know this was a nonfiction piece, if this was just a story that I read in a book, I would think this is the most interesting narrator. If one created this character, it's the coolest, smartest, most interesting character. And the way this character thinks, the things that they think and how they think is truly exceptional. So I was going to start with you, Stella, because I don't know if you've read this before, maybe you read it just recently, but what stood out for you? What did you really like about this piece?
[00:10:22] Stella: Yes, it was actually my first time hearing it. Like, I've read some of Maxi's things before, but not this one. And I thought it was really cool. It actually reminded me a lot of the movie Inside Out. I don't know if that's what it was, but I think it was cool how instead of assigning each emotion like a name, like fear or sadness or something, you gave it a color and I could put together pretty quickly. Okay. Like, red is anger, blue is sadness, yellow is happy, whatever. But the fact that you didn't come outright and say that added a little bit of mystery and intrigue. But it's also interesting to me is because I probably spend more time with you than a lot of people in your life, and I see a lot of what's going on the outside, but I've never really heard you say so much of what's going on on the inside. So I thought it was cool to get a different perspective into that.
[00:11:13] Elizabeth: That is interesting, right? Who knows you better than your sister? And yet, that's the magic of writing, which is something we talk about this all the time. Like, things come out on the page that I didn't even know they were in there, 99% of the time. I am not expecting what comes out on the page. And I'm shocked by it, and I'm fascinated by it. It's amazing. It's like discovering gold inside of you. And I feel like that's what this piece does, is it reveals a character. The narrator, let's call her, is anxious, and she has an active mind and an active imagination. But also, she's so brilliant. She's like, we want to know more about her. Really cool things are happening in her mind. I love the description. It made me think of synesthesia, where you sort of cross pollinate your senses. The way that the anxiety was described as every noise growing faster. Like, yes, we expect noises to grow louder, but faster is interesting. And then I love the word “crescendoed.” Crescendoed. I can't even pronounce it, much less spell it. But you did both beautifully.
And then “the deafening roar.” I feel like that's such a visceral description of what anxiety feels like, which I think everyone can relate to. And then that question of why we're all having these crazy thoughts, but that nobody says it out loud, that neither of us will turn to the other and divulge our inner monologues. So instead, we sit at our desks and allow our minds to drift separately.
My feeling—I can't know for sure and I've never done a survey—is that most people are having really interesting thoughts. But because we don't write them down and we don't really give them much credit, half the time, we're not even aware of what we're thinking.
It's so interesting. Like you were saying, Stella, talking about the colors, that each color is assigned an emotion, but it's a complex emotion. Like, purple is really interesting.
I love the line, “he's been doing a lot of driving recently.” Purple is the one that wants you or us to look a certain way and be a certain way. And I don't know what I would call that emotion. I don't know how I would describe it. I don't know. There is a simpler way to describe it except to name it purple.It's, like, such a great way to capture the essence of something.
And then, of course, “I try to bring Yellow's warm glow forward so she can shine her light and make it all go away. But she remains quiet.” I feel like everyone can relate to that, too, that feeling of, I'm trying to have a positive thought, but the critical thought, maybe purple would be the inner critic or the outer critic. That critic is so powerful and so commandeering.
“Purple examines the suggested timeline and determines that I am behind.” Oh, that's so relatable and so painful. And then I love the question, why am I different? “Why do I think about things like the improbability of existence and bluetooth instead of parties and boys?” This is the part that I love the most about this narrator and why, if I didn't already know her, I would want to know her because I feel like this whole piece reflects somebody who feels deeply and thinks deeply and, my God, we need more of those people! We have enough people worrying about parties and boys. We need more people like this narrator. And then, of course, how the final, the end of it comes back full circle, going back to the sounds growing louder and faster. “Faster and louder. Faster and louder. Faster and louder.: That was a beautiful the idea that it continues, the mind continues to overthink. Or it's funny, we always say, like, people talk all the time about being too much or too sensitive, and I kind of want to reframe that. Thinking too much. What if it's not too much? What if we're doing it just the right amount? And the rest of the world should be thinking more, feeling more, being more sensitive. How about that? So I just love this piece.
It feels like a timeless piece because it doesn't have an end. As long as the narrator lives, these feelings and thoughts will continue, and the colors will continue. Actually, it'd be interesting to write a second version of this when you're old, like when you're 70 or 80, and maybe there'd be different colors. Teal aquamarine. But anyway, it was truly beautiful. Thank you for reading that.
So very related, there a poem that Stella that you just wrote in Melissa's class following a discussion of the movie Barbie, which was so fantastic. And I love that so many people loved it. I mean, of course, we would love Barbie, the movie Barbie, but I love that so many millions of other people love it. It gives me hope for the world. You were riffing off of that quote by Greta Gerwig that is part of that monologue which is spoken by Gloria, the character Gloria. So I'll just say that at the beginning, and then I'll let you read this poem, Good enough.
[00:16:52] Stella: You are so beautiful and so smart, and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough. She hears a rendition of this line every time she expresses distaste. Distaste for her bloated body, distaste for her tired brain, distaste for her textured skin. Never does she hear sympathy. Never does she hear, I understand. But she's aware, aware that her comforter has looked in the mirror and felt the same way. All she hears is a compliment shadowed by defensive frustration. No one seems brave enough to admit that they share in her struggles to say that she's good. They say that she's good enough. She thinks that she's good enough, but only sometimes. She's not sure if she will ever know that she is good enough. At least not until they can surrender their masks and everyone can lock hands and say that we are all good enough together.
[00:17:35] Elizabeth: So powerful. And I love how these pieces are related. There's lots of common themes, which we'll talk about in a minute. But I'll start with you, Maxine. What did you like about this piece? What stood out for you?
[00:17:49] Maxine: I really liked how maybe this was a personal story or drawn some inspiration from personal life, or maybe it was a character. But I think it's also very universal, like you mentioned. And no matter who you are, you can find something to identify with this poem. And I feel like that adds to the power of the message, too. If there's not just one person experiencing this, it's universal truth. And I like the repetition in it as well. It really hammered home the message.
[00:18:25] Elizabeth: Yeah, it's so cool that you guys can talk about each other's writing. I just love that you guys can give each other a feedback. It's so cool. I've never had you in class together at the same time, so this is really fun.
I'm thinking, of course, about purple. Maxine's purple, which feels like the critic, and it feels like this piece is about if we had to color it purple, would you say that is true? That is purple the inner critic?
[00:18:55] Maxine: Maxine yeah, perhaps.
[00:18:58] Elizabeth: Or the outer critic characterization.
[00:19:01] Maxine: Yeah.
[00:19:01] Elizabeth: Okay. I mean, what's interesting about the inner critic, it's kind of a misnomer because we think it's like this thing inside of us, but it's not there by accident. Like, no baby has an inner critic. We learn to develop an inner critic by internalizing criticisms from the outer world. So it's really always outer criticism at the end of the day. But anyway, this “distaste,” I love the repetition of distaste and the repetition of “never does” in talking about one's self criticism. And like you said, Maxine, these are such universal feelings, for women, at least. Oh, my God, I don't know a woman alive who hasn't felt distaste for her bloated body, her tired brain, her textured skin. We all suffer with this. I love that line. “All she hears when her comforter has looked in the mirror and felt the same way. All she hears is a compliment shadowed by defensive frustration. No one seems brave enough to admit that they share in her struggles.” Like, if we could all just admit that, be honest about how we feel, which is what these writers have done so well.
I mean, this is what happens when we write. We're authentic in our expression and it lets everybody off the hook. Then we're all like, oh, my God, we all feel the same. We can all let it go together, which is the most powerful part of this piece. Stella, I can't even describe in words how profound this idea is. And I've had this thought before, but I haven't been able to articulate it. What if we could collectively decide to let go of all of these insane standards and expectations of how we, quote, “should be” and collectively agree to love ourselves? That would be absolutely revolutionary. I mean, that is the revolution. I can't even think of a greater revolution than that. For us to collectively as a group decide we're not going to buy into the system and we're going to love ourselves. But until we do it, it is actually really hard until everybody's doing it, because then you're influenced by all the other people who are still critical of themselves, it almost feels like we should be, too. For example, I'm thinking of--we've talked about this in class, Maxine--like, girls have this habit of doing things, like asking other girls, “Do I look fat?” I hate that question because of course everyone's going to be like, “no, you look great.” But as soon as somebody asks, “Do I look fat?” Then you're thinking, “Wait, do I look fat?” It's contagious. It's insane. Like, if anybody has self-judgment, then we all feel like we are being judged. So I just want to have you reread this part, Stella, at the end, starting with the line, “she's not sure if she will.”
[00:21:57] Stella: She's not sure if she will ever know that she's good enough, at least not until they can surrender their masks and everyone can lock hands and say that we are all good enough together.
[00:22:08] Elizabeth: Oh, my God, that's so deep. That's so deep. This is the revolution I want, where everyone can lock hands and say, we are all good enough together.
I don't know why we just can't do it, but I suspect that it's partly because… maybe the economy would momentarily collapse because everyone would stop buying things for a moment. I don't think it would destroy the economy. I think it's worth an effort. We should try it, I think really.
[00:22:37] Maxine: Powerful, too, especially that last line, because it's almost like a call to action. But then it's also like we're good enough on our own and we're all good enough together. But then also we're better together, and it would be better if everyone did this. And I really like that meaning exactly.
[00:22:56] Elizabeth: Because then everybody's off the hook. It's kind of like, I think, as I've noticed this pattern among women, that we always want to help each other because it's hard for us to be happy if anyone we know is suffering. We want everyone to be doing well. And so I think it would just feel like such a joy and relief if you knew everyone around you, everyone was feeling like they were good enough and loving themselves as they are. Like, oh, my. I feel like it would be the most amazing moment ever in Western history, and I hope it happens in my lifetime, and maybe you'll lead it. Stella so that leads me to some creative questions I wanted to ask you about.
You obviously knew you were going to pull something from Greta Gerwig's monologue. Did you know when you started out where this was going to go? Or did it surprise you? And while you were writing, how was the process? Did it come out easily? Did you get stuck? What was that like? Yeah.
[00:23:56] Stella: So I think in the movie, the monologue is actually, like, a really powerful thing. But in my writing, I didn't really intend it for it to come up this way. But it almost criticizes that line in a very passive sense, but where it's saying, okay, the narrator hears people say this to them all the time, and they understand, okay, maybe it has some meaning. But it seems like they're always saying, like, oh, I'm frustrated that you can't see what I see. And that can almost be a little damaging sometimes, I think, at least for me, in a personal sense, when I'm feeling down, I like people to be understanding and not necessarily try to fix my problems, but help me work through them on my own. And when people say, oh, you're so beautiful, don't feel bad about yourself. You're so beautiful, it makes me so sad that you think that. Then it's just kind of like, okay, well, you're making me feel a little guilty for feeling down. And I think that's an important thing that wasn't exactly addressed in the movie, and I think that's sort of where that came from. Initially, when I wrote that line down on my paper, I was like, okay, I'm going to talk about how great this is and how powerful it is. And then I started to realize, as I kept rereading it, okay, well, maybe there's actually some problems with this line, and I want to dissect that with my writing.
[00:25:15] Elizabeth: I love that. Yeah, you're right. It's absolutely true. That drives me crazy what you're talking about when people are like, you shouldn't feel blah, blah, blah, because you're blah, blah, blah, and it's like… but I do feel this way. It's very negating. Yeah, I love that you found the weak link in that and explored it, and when you were writing, because we have, like, whatever, 30 minutes 30 to 40 minutes to write. Did this come out pretty quick all at once, or did you kind of have to maul it did, actually.
[00:25:56] Stella: Normally, I'm not a very quick writer. I'll be asking for more time at the end of the 25 minutes that we get. But I think it was something that I've sort of felt passionately about and that I've experienced in my life. So it's been a lot easier to just put that down on paper, because for me, I have trouble writing fiction. It's like, okay, well, this is something that hasn't happened to me. Maybe it hasn't happened to anyone, and I don't really know how to put this sort of unthinkable scenario into words, but when it's something that almost everyone can relate to, at least everyone in the writing class can relate to, then I feel like it flows a lot more easily.
But one thing that I like to do I've kind of done this a bit more, especially with some of the creative pieces that I've written recently, has been to put the last line down first and then sort of fill in the blank in between. And I think in some cases, okay, you have the first line and the last line, and that could be the poem in itself, but then you can sort of take a minute to fill in some blanks, add a bit more detail. And I think even if you just had those two lines, it would still be a piece of writing. But taking the time to put some more and drawing inspiration from the words on either end helps a lot.
[00:27:09] Elizabeth: That's interesting. I love that that's your method. I've never done that before. And I love that everyone has a different creative process. That's why I ask about this. I think it's such a cool idea to put the last, to kind of have this endpoint you're aiming toward. It's like, I know I want to end up in Paris and then whatever it’s going to take to get to Paris. That's so cool. I love that you do that.
[00:27:39] Stella: I've noticed I'll cut myself off when I'm writing because if I have an idea, I don't want it to go away. So then I'll stop mid-sentence and I'll write the next sentence and then go back and try to see how I got from this mid slice to the second sentence that I ended up writing. Which I think also helps, too, because it's like the worst feeling when you're writing something down. And then, oh, I had this amazing thought and now I completely forget what it is. And so I feel like that helps too, because normally for me, it's something in that first sentence that got me to the second sentence. So it's easier to go back and fill it in than to try to stir up that thought again.
[00:28:18] Elizabeth: I love that. I love that. It's interesting you talk about not wanting to lose a thought. This is the challenge with writing. Oh, I should ask, do you type on your keyboard or write by hand? Either way, typing or writing is not as fast as our thoughts.
Unlike Maxine's piece talked about our racing thoughts, our thoughts are split second fast. Nobody can write that fast. And so I read about this recently that the gift of writing is because it is slower than our thoughts, it does force us to sort of more slowly unpack things than we would if we just held it in our head. But then there's also the danger of forgetting something. So I love that you just grab a line when it's coming to you. Grab it, grab it. That's so cool. It's like, yeah, collaging things like, oh, I need to remember that cool image over there. I'm going to come back to that.
So I wonder if it's. Similar for you, Maxine, or if yours is totally opposite, at least with this piece Colors in My Head, or anything you've written recently, do you always have a sense of where you're headed or is it more organic?
[00:29:31] Maxine: It's kind of similar to Stella, which is funny because I also haven't heard a lot of other people who do that. Sometimes if I'm sitting there trying to think about what I want to write, some really cool concept or sentence will come into my head. I'm like, wow, this is beautiful. This is so smart. I definitely want to include this, but doesn't really feel like an opening line or it's not like a plot point or whatever. So sometimes I will sort of write around that sentence and whether it's the ending or something that gets thrown in the middle, sometimes that helps me. With this piece in particular, I think I also draw a lot of inspiration from my personal life. I've always used creative writing as like an outlet. If I'm thinking something's been on my mind or I'm feeling some sort of strong emotion, I think writing really helps me process all of that. And I was having a conversation right before I wrote this piece with my friend about these actual experiences I used to go through when I was younger where everything around me would become faster and louder like these sounds. And I haven't met anyone else who's experienced the same thing. And I tried webmding it, trying to figure it out.
I couldn't really figure out what was going on because it seemed like this super rare thing. So I wrote about it because I was trying to process it and I wasn't expecting all the colors and stuff to show up in the second half like they did. Maybe I was subconsciously drawing inspiration from Inside Out, Stella, I don't know. But yeah, it's also interesting looking back on it too, because I wrote this last summer and I think, yes, it was dramatized, but I also think I've grown a lot from the person I was when I wrote this, which is really interesting to look back at. I feel like now as I'm heading off to college and starting this new chapter, I think I've grown up and matured a lot, which is kind of cool. And you can see that in my writing.
[00:31:30] Elizabeth: Yes, I love that you said that and I love that you're being honoring of yourself. So many people are like, oh, I can't read my writing that I wrote last year. It's so cringe. And I'm like, no, it's beautiful. It's like looking at a picture of yourself last year. This is who you were last year, who you were when you were ten. And each age is incredible and insightful. Do you feel like, looking back, especially given the theme of this piece and the anxiety in this piece, that you have empathy for your younger self?
[00:32:01] Maxine: Oh, for sure. I remember being really scared when I would experience those things, and then sometimes I would kind of just ride with it, and it would eventually go away on its own. But it's a lot to experience, and it always kind of especially when I was younger, having all these thoughts really made me feel, like, out of place, especially with people my age.
And so, yeah, that was hard. And looking back on it, where I sort of now have found people that think similar to the way I do and are more like me, I wish I could go back and tell that girl, it'll be okay. You'll find your people. It'll all work out in the end. Because people would say that to me, but I would be like, yeah, whatever. I'm suffering now. I don't really care what you're saying about me.
But, yeah, it is comforting to hear and knowing that, yes, I'm still growing and changing, but knowing that things are starting to work themselves out feels good.
[00:33:03] Elizabeth: It's interesting you say it's starting to get better, because as an adult, I mean, adult biologically, I don't know maturity wise, but biologically, I'm an adult. And so when I hear your writing, I feel like, oh, that's how I think. But I think what it is, the narrator had a very mature, advanced mind in a very young body. And I think that would give anybody anxiety. Like, you are having these really complex adult thoughts when you were tiny. That's terrifying. What do you do with that? You've always been wise beyond your years, which is a blessing and a curse also.
The last question that you both sort of touched on and I wanted to explore it a little bit is you both mentioned having an idea or a line pop into your head, like, out of nowhere, and you have to write it down because you don't want to lose it. And then you build toward it or around it. But this is the magic of writing. Well, there's so much magic. This is one of the parts of the magic of writing that is… where do our ideas come from? I don't think we necessarily have to know. But I think it's exciting to explore the idea that if we just write, if we just make time for it, something's going to come through. And I wonder if you could both speak to it for other writers who may be very enthusiastic about writing or maybe just tentative about it, and they maybe are struggling with, like, where do the ideas come from? And how can I trust that? You know, until you start writing something, you do not know what's inside of you. You never know what's inside of you until it comes out. So, Maxine, starting with you, what advice would you give to writers about how to make space for ideas and how to trust that the ideas will come?
[00:34:59] Maxine: I think it's like any skill where, yeah, you have to practice with it, and maybe when you're starting off, it takes longer for you to get started. But I think in elementary school, everyone starts off writing, like personal narratives, right? And because our lives are interesting and we have stories in our we live stories every day. And I think that's a really good way to start is just draw inspiration from your own life.
You can just write about things that you've experienced. Scary moments, funny moments, happy moments. And emotions are a really powerful way to lead writing as well.
And a lot of my writing is guided by emotions. And I think another good thing about emotions is they're so universal. So if you write something about the one time you were scared, everyone else is going to relate to it, as well. And yeah, I mean, back to the whole skill thing. It's almost like meditation. If you just sit there and you allow yourself like with meditation, you're sitting there, you're allowing thoughts to come and go. Sort of similar thing. You can be reliving your day or just allowing ideas to come and go. Maybe you find one that you like, you grab onto it and you just get going.
[00:36:15] Elizabeth: Beautiful. I love that you compared it to meditation because it is sort of letting the brain does do what it does. And I also love I wrote this down we live stories every day. Oh, my God. It's such a great quote.
I love that. That is really and the whole bit about emotions are universal. Of course. Everyone knows fear, everyone knows hope, everyone knows sadness. So anything you speak about authentically, others will resonate too. And then it reminds you you're not alone. There is the book by C. S. Lewis. C s Lewis. was the one who said, “we read to know we are not alone.” And I think we write to understand ourselves, and then we read each other's writing to know we're not alone. And that's whenever you write your truth, that's your gift to the world. Others know they're not alone. So, to you, Stella, what would you say to people in terms of how to find ideas, how to face the blank page?
[00:37:23] Stella: Yeah, I think I do relate a lot with what Maxi said. But another thing that I've noticed is we place a lot of restrictions on ourselves depending on what we think is good enough to put on a paper, like a piece of paper. Everyone has thoughts in their heads. They're kind of unfiltered. But when you take that minute to write something down, whether it's on pen and paper or you're typing it into your computer, that is a filtration process. And I think the best way to sort of tackle that blank page is just to take that filter away, to let your brain and your fingers or your pencil flow simultaneously and just really remove anything that's going to make you think, like, okay, well, this doesn't really make any sense. Just put it down anyways, and you can clean it up afterwards. And I think that helps a lot, at least for me, when I'm feeling a bit of a block, is just to put something down on paper and then examine it a little bit more.
Okay, where did this come from? What does this make me think of? It's kind of like I forget what they're called. Like the bubble charts, where you write something in the middle and then flow charts. Yeah. And then you do all the little branches off of it. And I think that's kind of a good way to get started.
[00:38:41] Elizabeth: I love that. I love that you talked about the filter because it's similar to the critic that often stops us before we can get started. So many people. Sorry. Say that again, Maxine.
[00:38:54] Maxine: I was just saying that she described that really well because I think that is put too much emphasis on, oh, this is going on paper now. It better be good. But as soon as you're able to sort of shift your mindset to it's not that serious. No one ever has to see, then that helps a lot.
[00:39:12] Elizabeth: That's right.
[00:39:14] Stella: Take it off the pedestal a bit, I think.
[00:39:16] Elizabeth: Yes.
[00:39:18] Stella: It's like this concrete thing that you're actually writing on versus the thoughts in your brain that are just floating around. And I think when you can just connect them, then everything becomes a lot more free and open.
[00:39:29] Elizabeth: I love that. I love that. Yeah. It is interesting how we think we have to get everything that comes out of us has to be perfect. And that's not true. In fact, that would be so boring. Things that come out, quote perfect are stuff coming out of AI, which is noy interesting. AI is probably going to generate a perfect sentence, but it's soulless and it's not that interesting. It's much more interesting to have a, quote, imperfect, whatever that means, authentic expression. Also, it makes me think about the expression throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks. And also people say you won't have anything to edit until you write something down. You got to get it on the page first, and then you can play with it and fix it and get rid of things, but we have to let ourselves throw spaghetti at the wall. I love that you figured that out so early in the process. Stella, do you remember, was it something that your teacher said, Melissa said, or how did you figure that out? Because you just started this summer, which is amazing. How did you get to that point?
[00:40:38] Stella: I remember the first two sessions that I did, I was sort of, like, restricting myself in a sense, where I was sticking to what I knew, because writing has always been kind of more of like Maxi's thing. Like she was the writer in the family, and I was like, the math one, or I don't know, something like that. And I never really allowed myself to explore that part of me. And when I first did my first session, it was like two weeks after finals, I was still in the zone, and that's what I did. I wrote basically essays, and I think they still carry some weight, but it wasn't like when we would go around in the, I guess, zoom classroom during writing and share our pieces. I would be reading this kind of more educational sounding thing, and then the other people would be, like, pulling out these crazy poems or these stories. I was like, Where do you come up with this stuff? And so I remember the third one that we did. I was like, okay, so today you're going to write a poem. And I sat down in that class knowing that, and I sort of went off one of the prompts, but I did the thing where it was like, write the first line, write the last line, and then fill in the blank. And I think that helped me a lot. And then since then, I wrote the Barbie piece and whatnot, and it's just allowed me to sort of bridge the gap between the essays and the creative sort of fiction or realistic fiction or whatever kind of writing.
[00:42:03] Elizabeth: I love that you just figured it out for yourself. And also, I feel like what you're describing in the class, and of course this is the goal of our classes, is to let everyone feel free and safe to experiment. But it's kind of like what you wrote about that everyone agrees we're good enough together. I mean, that's kind of the vibe of the class, is, look, we're all writers. We're all good enough. Just play with it and just let yourself go and see what happens. And then you did. You let yourself play with it. That's amazing. That's incredible. You're a good example of how quickly one can just break out of the filters and start speaking authentically from your heart. But you both did it. You broke out of your purple and your filter to express yourself authentically and beautiful. And you're both so wise and insightful. I love everything you said. So I want to thank you both so much for your time and your imagination and really your wisdom about yourselves and the creative process, which hopefully many others will be inspired by.
[00:43:16] Stella: Thank you.
[00:43:17] Maxine: Thank you.
