Writing About Trauma, Not Reliving It (guest post)
Greetings, everyone!
I cannot believe it's already nearing the end of October. I finally finished the big revision work on Novel 1 (hurray!), and I'm now shifting gears to get it ready for the copyeditor. I'm over my target word count, so I'm hoping a fresh set of eyes will help. Then, I'll have to decide whether or not to query this book. STRESS!
My novel is about a suburban mom who receives threat-laced letters addressed to the cult identity she fled decades before. Throughout the story, she's forced to confront the trauma of her past and figure out how to merge who she was then with who she is now.
So, writing about trauma has been on my mind quite a bit lately. Even in fiction, finding ways to explore difficult experiences without letting them overwhelm the story can be challenging. And I've often wondered how much harder that process must be when the experiences aren't imagined, but lived.
That's why I'm especially pleased to welcome Deborah Svec-Carstens to the blog today!
Deborah's new memoir, Toward the Light: A Year in Paris, tells the story of her year abroad, when a sexual assault threatened to derail the life she was building in Paris. Rather than return home, she chose to stay and gradually found her way forward.
(You can read more about Deborah and her book here!)
In today’s guest post, Deborah shares what it took to finally write about her assault, along with practical strategies she's developed as a memoir writer and book coach for writing about painful experiences without reliving them.
I think her insights offer something valuable to writers of both memoir and fiction, especially those of us trying to tell difficult stories with honesty and care.
Enjoy!
—CC
Writing About Trauma, Not Reliving It
by Deborah Svec-Carstens
When I got serious about writing my memoir, Toward the Light: A Year in Paris, I joined a critique group led by my writing coach.
At first, the group thought I was writing a memoir about being a nanny in Paris, with anecdotes about what it was like to live with and work for a French family and care for their six-year-old child.
I kept the hardest part of the story from them for months. Only my writing coach knew the truth.
The truth was that two months after my arrival in Paris, just as I began to feel at home in the city, a morning run ended in sexual assault.
My memoir wasn’t just about being a nanny. It was about staying in Paris and finding my way forward after the assault.
Only after I named the reality of what had happened, first to my writing coach and eventually my writing group, could I write the chapter detailing the attack.
***
Trauma produces physical, mental, and emotional responses that can continue long after the experience is over. Fight, flight, or freeze reactions may arise in situations that are otherwise safe.
Because trauma changes how the brain processes memory, writing about trauma presents unique challenges. Writers may experience flashbacks, dissociation, or intense emotions when revisiting traumatic memories. They may find it difficult to remember what happened, or to express how they felt in the moment.
As a writer and a coach for memoir writers who explore trauma, I’ve developed some strategies for writing about traumatic experiences without reliving them:
Make it safe to write. This requires being present and grounded in your body. It helps to have specific ways to return to your body and the present moment when writing about an event in the past that might be triggering. Something as simple as a few deep breaths, or noticing your feet on the floor or your seat in the chair can help. You could also practice a sensory grounding technique: identify five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.
Write around the trauma. If you find it too hard to revisit the trauma, you might need to write around it, approaching it indirectly rather than head-on. If you don’t remember details, you can use metaphors or state outright that you’re speculating about what happened or how you felt.
Practice self-compassion. Practice self-compassion as you write and take breaks when necessary. There were times during the writing process when I had to step away from the memoir and write other pieces that had nothing to do with France, trauma, or healing.
Find a community of writers. Writing is a solitary endeavor, but it also requires support and encouragement from others. Giving voice to my story with my writing group gave me the courage to write the assault chapter. The group cheered me on when the writing got hard and I wanted to quit.
Practice self-care. Most important, take care of yourself when writing about traumatic events. You might need a therapist or other professional to help you process the emotions that arise when you recount challenging memories. Seeking that support is not a sign of weakness, but one of strength.
***
As the circle of people I shared my story with widened from my writing group to a storytelling event before an audience of more than 1,200 people, talking about my experience got easier. Getting the story out of my body and onto the page helped me gain some distance from it and erase the shame I had carried for years. Today, my desire to share my story outweighs moments of vulnerability. I share it in the hope that it might help someone share theirs, whether with a friend or family member, a therapist, or a wider audience.
—Deborah
About the Guest Blogger & Her Book
Deborah Svec-Carstens, JD, MTS, is a writer, book coach, spiritual director, and former lawyer whose work explores healing after trauma, embodiment, and spirituality. Her debut memoir, Toward the Light: A Year in Paris, traces her search for meaning and connection in the months after a traumatic assault in Paris in her early twenties.
Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in bioStories, the Brevity blog, the Des Moines Register, and Ember & Vine nonfiction anthology. Her work has received recognition from Writer’s Digest, WOW! Women on Writing, and Memoir Magazine.
Deborah writes The Spiral Staircase on Substack and offers workshops and presentations. She lives in Central Iowa with her husband, where she writes and accompanies others in their journeys of healing and story.
Toward the Light: What happens when the City of Light turns dark?
At twenty-two, Deborah Svec-Carstens leaves small-town Iowa for Paris, hoping a year abroad will bring adventure, independence, and a fresh start. But just as she begins to feel at home, a morning run ends in sexual assault.
Every instinct tells her to leave. Instead, she chooses to stay.
As the months pass, Deborah leans on an unexpected community of friends, wrestles with questions of faith, and finds purpose in caring for Lily, the young girl entrusted to
her care. Slowly, she discovers that healing is not a destination, but a path taken one step at a time.
Set against the cafés, parks, and neighborhoods of Paris, Toward the Light is a coming-of-age memoir of trauma, resilience, and the courage of simply staying.
Connect with Deborah or buy the book:
And don't forget to add the title to your Goodreads list!
And don’t miss the book giveaway! The winner will receive the Toward the Light: A Year in Paris. Enter at The Muffin from October 19 to November 1!
Writers: Have you ever struggled with writing about a difficult or emotionally charged subject? How do you balance telling the story honestly with taking care of yourself along the way? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments or through my contact page!
Peace & Plenty,
Comments