Forks In the Road
What do you do when your writing requires a detour? You take it.
“If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.” It’s something my Dad used to say and, as a fellow writer, it’s fitting.
I had planned to write a book about my family’s experiences working as missionaries in Southeast Asia in the 1960s. But that plan took an unexpected turn when an editor I’d hired told me, as kindly as she could, that I hadn’t written a book at all. I’d written a family keepsake. There’s a difference.
Ouch.
She was right. I’d spent years researching and writing a family memoir with zero marketability. If I really wanted to get my story into the world, I needed to change course. I considered rewriting it as a personal memoir, but my experiences were only a small part of the story I wanted to tell. I thought about turning it into a work of fiction but didn’t want to stray too far from what happened. The real events mattered.
I needed to write my family history in a way that captivates readers. But how?
My search led me to a writing workshop at The Loft Literary Center called “Beyond the Memoir.” It was there that I stumbled across an approach that combines the best of both worlds—the emotional truth of a memoir with the creative freedom of a novel.
In autobiographical fiction, authors have free reign to turn personal experiences into compelling narrative.
I’d found my unicorn! Which meant the work I’d done wouldn’t be wasted—it would simply become the foundation for a bigger, more interesting tale. My parents wouldn’t disappear; they’d be transformed with new names and motivations. It gave me a way to get my family’s story out into the world.
So, I changed my plan. I removed the guardrails. And, for the first time in my life, I dug into the world of autobiographical fiction. I learned about story structure, showing rather than telling, building scenes, setting stakes, and maintaining clear viewpoints. I studied books on writing books. Dug into Marcy Kennedy’s writing guides. Started following Mary Caroll Moore. I connected with other writers. And I read—a lot. Anything I could get my hands on.
And, once I felt grounded, I started to write. But once again, something unexpected happened.
In his book “On Writing,” Stephen King prioritizes characters over plot lines. He suggests letting the characters, not the outline, dictate the direction of your story. If your characters are well-developed, they’ll react to situations in ways that no one sees coming—including the author.
Being a planful person, I was skeptical. So, I dove into the details, defining the theme and plot of my story. I created character profiles for re-imagined protagonists and antagonists. I defined the structure and story arch. And I created an outline, stitching together real-life experiences and historic events, with a healthy dose of intrigue to keep the pages turning.
As I wrote, plot twists emerged. My characters began to dictate how the pieces of my story would fall into place. It was like watching a movie—one in which I had to keep writing to see what happened next.
Despite my carefully laid plans, my tale took on a life of its own. And I was along for the ride.
The journey continues. I’m not done yet; no writer ever is. But it was never about the destination. Like any expedition, it’s the turning points you remember most. You can view them as obstacles. Or you can see them as detours—forks in the road that lead you down a new and unexpected path.
What are your forks in the road? And where is your writing journey taking you?
