Typewriters and Tides

and the benefits of Wild Swimming

September 22, 2024

Hello You,

Happy Autumnal Equinox! (And Happy Spring to the other side of the world! ) It’s been an absolutely lovely day here. The morning began with bright, warm sunshine, and then, as if on cue, a bank of pewter-coloured clouds gathered overhead, turning the air cool and crisp, making a perfect backdrop for a flock of inky Canada Geese to honk and flap test flights across the sky in preparation for fall migration. Bring on the journey!

This typewriter is black cat approved.

Writing a memoir and cold water swimming…

are two things I NEVER thought I’d do.

This week I’ve been prepping for an upcoming workshop I’ll be teaching about the art of memoir writing. I’ve taught loads of creative writing workshops in the past, but this will be my first time exclusively focussing on memoir. While I’m super excited to meet the group and dig into the work, I’m also feeling really mindful about finding ways to foster a kind, supportive atmosphere in the room. I remember it being such a huge, terrifying leap when I decided to turn my writer’s eye towards myself to write a memoir¹, so I know whatever I can do to boost the participants’ courage in this workshop will be key.

One of my “Dear Someone” workshops in 2023

Last year I taught a series of workshops that I developed called “Dear Someone,” in which I used old-school letter writing to unlock paths to new approaches in fiction. It was all analog, no electronic devices. I even brought several typewriters from my personal collection for participants to use, in order to help break them out of their usual ways of writing. We all had a blast and the work was off-the-charts amazing. Not long after that I started thinking that maybe I could bring that same energy to the craft of memoir as well.

Sprinkles at the seashore

So how do you teach others how to take a leap that you never thought you’d make? I plan to approach it much like I’ve approached year-round wild swimming the past few years. (Something else I never guessed in a million years that I’d do.)

Here are a few rules that apply to both.

1. Figure out where you’re at right now, in this moment, today. It’s important to acknowledge where you’re starting from and to give yourself mad props for even the briefest dip of your toes in the water.

2. Note what others have done (it will save you a lot of pain) but also, don’t be afraid to adjust the rules and do things your own way. If that means you have get a giant pink, sprinkle covered donut-shaped floatie to help you wade out a bit farther, than DO IT. Naysayers can suck it.

3. Give yourself as many advantages as possible. The footing beneath you will often be uneven and rocky, the sea cold and murky —protect your feet and your heart, travel with kind companions, swim when the tide is high, and bring a warm blanket and plenty of hot tea.

4. Remember that not every day will be a full body super dunk. If the seas are too choppy, the tide too wild for you to dive into it, then sit on the shore and let the frothy tide wash over you. There are lessons waiting for you in stillness, too.

Tidewrack from the sea of life lessons and stories that became my memoir.

The Awe Report

Thanks to those who chimed in and shared their own moments of awe last week. I thought I’d keep the ball rolling by making The Awe Report a regular feature in The Cure for Longing.

This week I stumbled on a video from Bette Midler’s only appearance on Saturday Night Live. She was the musical guest on the show in 1979, and sang Tom Waits’ haunting ballad, “Martha.” To me, her performance is everything the best storytelling is made of: passion, honesty, connection, love. You can listen to it here² and if you want, let me know what you think in the comments.

Until Next Time

I wish you sweet swimming, the company of mermaids, and sparkling magic along your way.

Sending love from The Society of Hopeful Mermaids

1. Read more about my memoir, Before My Time.

2. Bette Midler sings “Martha.”