Improving on the Silence
Rita Shaler-Nelson -- June 24, 2008
I have to admit I struggle a bit (OK, a lot!) over the idea of using my life as material for a book. Turning flesh and blood people I knew and loved (not to mention myself) into characters seems questionable to me, at times. Then, I read a quote by a 19th century yogi that granted me a sort of literary permission slip.
I am not a devotee of Yoga. My only experience was one college class I withdrew from after several weeks because it met early in the morning, and I was working late hours at a restaurant. But, when I read this quote, its simple-sounding, lyrical beauty struck a nerve:
"Before you speak, ask yourself: is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, does it improve on the silence?" -- Sai Baba
If I could adequately answer each of these questions as they relate to my book, then perhaps I could approve of my project. After all, writing is a lot like speaking; whether words come out of our mouths or are put down on paper, they cannot be taken back. I take this venture of writing about my life ever-so-seriously, and I began my evaluation of its merit by asking myself the question, "Will my book be kind?"
Every person who is in the story in any significant way is someone I loved, so I am inherently motivated to depict them in as kind a way as possible. Though I do not interpret being kind as sugar-coating, or making people into such sickeningly sweet caricatures of themselves that they are simply not believable, I will not be gratuitous in revealing their flaws. I will be sensitive. I will be cautious. I will also hold some things back, things like confidences which were shared with me in friendship, and details that are not worth mentioning. I am confident, as each of these people read the book, they will not hesitate to say that I have, indeed, been kind.
Is my book necessary? It is for me. I had wanted to be a writer when I was growing up, and as a young aspiring writer the advice I heard most often was, "Live!" "You must live!" "You must have experiences before you can write seriously about life!" So, I did. I lived. And now I believe, with all my heart and soul, that in order for that living to fulfill its purpose it is necessary for me to write this book.
The third question, "Is it true?" is answered quite simply in the affirmative.
Which leads me to the fourth and final question, "Does it improve on the silence?" I am a big fan of silence; adding this bar standard to my book is a daunting task, but how can I aim for less? If it's not worth a break in the silence, then why write it? I have to try and hit that mark, knowing that, ultimately, it will be those who read it who will have to be the final judge of that.
For me, improvement has already come. Since I started on the journey of writing this book, I've become a more open person with everyone in my life, and I've met some wonderful fellow writers who have, without a doubt, improved on the silence in my life. Ideally, my words, my book, will someday do that for others. I hope so.
I hope my memoir will improve on the silence, and if it should be received as doing so..... well, I don't think I could ask for anything more.