ABCs of Creative Nonfiction: The Conclusion

Writing creative nonfiction is particularly hard because the genre requires us to dig deep in order to interrogate whatever subject we’re interested in writing about. The subject is, often, one that resonates at a deep emotional level—in other words, something most sane people work hard to bury so they never have to think about it at all because it’s probably painful. And who wants to do grapple with that level of emotional pain on the off chance that someone might find some value in the essay or book or blog post or whatever comes out of that interrogation? Writers, that’s who. “Other people deal with that stuff in therapy.”

Over the course of the past few weeks, I’ve learned that creative nonfiction demands what I can only honestly call a blood sacrifice from its most dedicated participants.

Writers in the genre need to offer journalistic honesty, interrogating the elements of their pasts (or the pasts of their subjects) to the point of pain and often at the risk of their emotional stasis for the sake of their craft. They have to swear. A lot. (Honestly, I can understand why.) They need minds that are equal parts surrealist, absurdist, realist, magician; they need to care so much that when their worlds sweat, they sweat. And they need to embrace accoutrements. Swallow them. Taste them.

I’d love to take a moment to thank each of our brilliant contributors to this project, who have embodied the spirit of Spry in their willingness to be vulnerable, take risks, and trust their energy and talents with us and our readers. I hope you found this series as enlightening and motivational as I did. And please stay tuned as we gear up for our next series, the ABCs of flash fiction.

Warmly,

Linsey