Trish MacEnulty's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing-tips"
Writing about the body
A colleague of mine was telling me about her daughter’s body issues. Her daughter had hit puberty and decided she no longer liked her body.
“Do you like any part of your body?” the mother asked.
“My arms,” the girl said. “I have great arms.” So, my colleague continued, she had asked a group of women friends which part of their body they liked the most. To her surprise, most of them said there was no part of their body they liked. One of the women had had a boob job, and those were the only thing about her body that she liked.
When I heard that story, I was astonished. How could they not love their hands, I wondered. Or their feet? Where would you be (literally) without your feet? Forget the fake boobs, how could anyone not love her lungs -- those two faithful cartons for the life-breath? And the heart, that’s a pretty lovable little drummer. Do I need to mention that pleasure factory between the legs? Personally, I’m fond of my colon and whole lower digestive tract for making sure I’m not always full of shit. And the skin! It may not be as soft and pretty as it once was but, good grief, we’d be a mess without it.
The body is where it all happens: the roiling emotions, the love making, the wine drinking, the fried pickles on the tongue, the dancing, the laughing, the tears, and most importantly, the spiritual awakening. The mystics remind us that being present in the body is key to recognizing the divine light within us.
It's also key to getting into your characters. Here's an early scene in The Pink House where I was able to use the body to introduce one of my main characters:
Sonya lay face down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor in B dorm of the North Florida Correctional Institution for Women with Magna, a strawberry blond titan, astride her back. Magna’s hand, fleshy but powerful, was wrapped around Sonya’s neck.
“You see this, Gypsy bitch?” Magna asked, waving a pack of Newports in front of her face. “These are mine. I marked this package ‘cause I knew there was a sneaky little thief taking my shit. You better keep your dirty hands to yourself or I’ll break each one of your fingers.”
With the hand that was not wrapped around Sonya’s neck, Magna dropped the cigarettes and twisted Sonya’s pinky finger out of its socket.
Sonya’s eyes bulged. She tried to kick her legs. She’d never been a fighter, but she knew how to take a beating. Then again, no one had ever tried to outright kill her before.
Mercifully, Magna dropped Sonya’s finger and unwrapped her other hand from around Sonya’s pinched neck. Sonya gasped for air. The big woman pushed herself off Sonya’s back, jabbing her ribs with a swift kick as she did so. Sonya grunted. She heard the bathroom door open and close as Magna walked out with the pack of cigarettes. Sonya rolled on her back and tried to breathe.
Some exercises for writing to, about and for the body:
1. Write a love letter to your body.
2. Write a dialogue with a body part. (I recommend reading Lynda Schor’s short story “Lips” from her collection The Body Parts Shop if you can.)
3. Write about a wound, an injury, or a frightening moment. How did your body react?
4. Give one of your characters a wound or take away a body part. How does that change the game?
“Do you like any part of your body?” the mother asked.
“My arms,” the girl said. “I have great arms.” So, my colleague continued, she had asked a group of women friends which part of their body they liked the most. To her surprise, most of them said there was no part of their body they liked. One of the women had had a boob job, and those were the only thing about her body that she liked.
When I heard that story, I was astonished. How could they not love their hands, I wondered. Or their feet? Where would you be (literally) without your feet? Forget the fake boobs, how could anyone not love her lungs -- those two faithful cartons for the life-breath? And the heart, that’s a pretty lovable little drummer. Do I need to mention that pleasure factory between the legs? Personally, I’m fond of my colon and whole lower digestive tract for making sure I’m not always full of shit. And the skin! It may not be as soft and pretty as it once was but, good grief, we’d be a mess without it.
The body is where it all happens: the roiling emotions, the love making, the wine drinking, the fried pickles on the tongue, the dancing, the laughing, the tears, and most importantly, the spiritual awakening. The mystics remind us that being present in the body is key to recognizing the divine light within us.
It's also key to getting into your characters. Here's an early scene in The Pink House where I was able to use the body to introduce one of my main characters:
Sonya lay face down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor in B dorm of the North Florida Correctional Institution for Women with Magna, a strawberry blond titan, astride her back. Magna’s hand, fleshy but powerful, was wrapped around Sonya’s neck.
“You see this, Gypsy bitch?” Magna asked, waving a pack of Newports in front of her face. “These are mine. I marked this package ‘cause I knew there was a sneaky little thief taking my shit. You better keep your dirty hands to yourself or I’ll break each one of your fingers.”
With the hand that was not wrapped around Sonya’s neck, Magna dropped the cigarettes and twisted Sonya’s pinky finger out of its socket.
Sonya’s eyes bulged. She tried to kick her legs. She’d never been a fighter, but she knew how to take a beating. Then again, no one had ever tried to outright kill her before.
Mercifully, Magna dropped Sonya’s finger and unwrapped her other hand from around Sonya’s pinched neck. Sonya gasped for air. The big woman pushed herself off Sonya’s back, jabbing her ribs with a swift kick as she did so. Sonya grunted. She heard the bathroom door open and close as Magna walked out with the pack of cigarettes. Sonya rolled on her back and tried to breathe.
Some exercises for writing to, about and for the body:
1. Write a love letter to your body.
2. Write a dialogue with a body part. (I recommend reading Lynda Schor’s short story “Lips” from her collection The Body Parts Shop if you can.)
3. Write about a wound, an injury, or a frightening moment. How did your body react?
4. Give one of your characters a wound or take away a body part. How does that change the game?
