Explore your Memory Bank

Through the next few posts I’m going to introduce you to an exercise that another writer showed me some years ago. I admit I was somewhat sceptical, but it really worked, and I’ve used it a few times to come up with a convincing short story. It would work just as well for a novel.

The first step is to sit quietly with your pen and paper. (Yes, I said pen and paper!) Let your mind run back to your childhood, to a favourite spot you used to go to. Allow yourself to visualise the scene, breathe in the smells, look around and notice everything you see in your “mind’s eye”.
When I first did this exercise, I remembered a kopje (a hill covered in rocks and bush) across the road from my home in Rhodesia (now called Zimbabwe). There were no buildings on the kopje, just a partial road that the owner had blasted out of the rocks before running out of money.
I have always marvelled at the short-sightedness of a man who buys an expensive plot of land, and then finds he doesn’t have enough money to build a road to the top–never mind build a house. It reminds me of the story Jesus told about the man who ran out of funds when he wanted to build a house. But at least the guy in Jesus’ story got started! The man across the road from my home didn’t make it to the top of the hill.
This kopje was my favourite haunt as a young teenager. I used to climb to the top, scrambling through the bush that scraped my bare legs. Once I reached the summit and took a few further steps, I couldn’t be seen from the house. I rejoiced in the sense of freedom. No one could see me. No one could hear me. (And of course, if I’d hurt myself, no one would have known. But that was far from this teenager’s mind.)
A few more steps brought me to a great rock with a flat top. I knew exactly where to stick my toes and grip with my fingers, and in no time I was on top of the rock. A large, old tree grew alongside the boulder, its trunk leaning heavily against the rock. I would swing myself onto a broad branch and step over onto a neighbouring bough, where I could sit hidden from human view, surrounded by thick foliage. I could peer through the leaves at the land on the other side of my home. I could see for miles.
I sat up there and did my homework. I read books. Sometimes I climbed higher in the tree and imagined myself to be king of this beautiful country. (Yes, I said King. I never saw myself as Queen. I was the ultimate tomboy.)
When I tackled this writing exercise, I covered a couple of pages, jotting down what I could see, feel and smell in my imagination. By the time I’d finished, I felt so good. It was as if I’d spent some time at the top of that familiar kopje. I was ready for the next step.

That’s enough for today. Before reading the next post, try doing this exercise for yourself. Think of a favourite haunt of yours when you were young, and jot down all you can remember. See you again on Thursday for the next step.

About Shirley

Shirley Corder is an author who writes to inspire and encourage. She has a passion for helping other writers and cancer survivors.