Writing Through Cancer

I began teaching  again this week,  an online section of “The Art of Creative Nonfiction” for UCLA extension Writer’s Program.  My preparations took me, as they always do, to my bookshelves, and I scanned them in search of  a favorite anthology of creative nonfiction,  but instead, my attention was diverted by the narrow blue spine of Dorothy Allison’s  memoir, Two or Three Things I Know For Sure.  I pulled it from the shelves and leafed through it, pausing to re-read a section before skipping to another.   Originally written as a performance piece, it tells the true story behind her 1992 novel, Bastard out of Carolina.    Allison recounts the story of her childhood, and the people in it, which was harsh and cruel–even abusive–in powerful and lyrical prose.  Yet it is her triumph over cruelty we witness in the narrative, her ability to discover the meaning of those events and share her stories, ones that ultimately transformed her life.

I have often quoted Allison’s memoir.  In fact, I’ve posted one of her sentences at the bottom of my email signature.  It reads:  “”I am the only one who can tell the story of my life and say what it means.”  I think that single sentence captures the heart of writing for healing: a process of meaning-making and of discovery.  Writing to heal ourselves demands we have the courage to write deeply and honestly, to be open to discovery, even be surprised, as we try to make sense of the difficult chapters of our lives.

My copy of Allison’s memoir is dog-eared and worn,  page corners bent to mark the italicized lines that all begin as “Two or three things I know for sure…”   In these short lines, she reveals an insight gleaned from the story told and allows the reader to witness her healing as she discovers what is true for her.   Here are some I particularly like:

Two or three things I know for sure, and one of them is that change when it comes cracks everything open.

Two or three things I know for sure, and one of them is how long it takes to learn to love yourself, how long it took me, how much love I need now.

Two or three things I know for sure, and one is that I would rather go naked than wear the coat the world has made for me.

Two or three things I know, two or three things I know for sure, and one of them is that if we are not beautiful to each other, we cannot know beauty in any form.

Two or three things I know for sure and one of them is that telling the story all the way through is an act of love.

Two or three things I know, two or three things I know for sure, and one of them is that to go on living, I have to tell stories, that stories are the one sure way I know to touch the heart and change the world.

Stories… touch the heart and change the world.  Each time I lead a writing group at a cancer center and hear a survivor’s words read aloud, Allison’s line echoes in my head.  Stories build understanding, shared community, and have the power to change–not just ourselves, but the world.

Tell me a story this week, one that reveals  the two or three things you have learned from your difficult life experiences.  Has cancer or other suffering been the catalyst for you to look back and find new meaning in your life?  How do those insights inform your present?  Why not begin by taking inspiration from Allison’s words?  Any one of her italicized statements is rich enough be a writing prompt.  Perhaps you already have two or three things you know for certain about your life.   Think about your journey, your transformation.   What have the difficult or challenging times in your life taught you?   Why not begin with “Two or three things I know for sure, and…,” finishing the sentence and letting it take you into deeper territory as you write.