give me a daisy

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resistance is not always futile

Although I was present, of course, I can neither confirm nor deny the details. My mother claimed that when I was born in a Catholic hospital, a nun was at her head praying, while the doctor at her other end was cursing. There I was: smack in the middle between the sacred and the profane, trying like hell to resist the inevitable. Resistance is my middle name. Well, Louise was my actual middle name, but I resisted that, too, until I finally disposed of it in the giddy cauldron of post-hippie San Francisco back in the 70s.

My infant self reportedly screamed so loudly and so often that my mother was convinced the neighbors thought she was beating me. She wasn’t, but she did have an overriding desire to make a good impression (at least on non-family members), so my caterwauling did nothing to help our relationship get off on a good footing. That and the fact I wasn’t a boy. As for me, I can only imagine I was stunned to discover my karmic misfortune and was shouting a loud “Nooooo!” of protest back to the universe.

There’s a saying in therapeutic circles that what you resist persists. But I say what you resist is often less likely to get the better of you.

My parents were adherents of the do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do school of parenting. They employed an extremely colorful vocabulary during their fights over money, time, and my father’s numerous peccadilloes. The language my mother used on the three of us kids when she was angry would be considered abusive today. When she ran out of real curse words, she made up new ones, which I found hysterically funny. But I was puzzled when they blamed me for teaching my two younger brothers to curse. Where did they imagine I’d picked up those words?

As soon I was old enough to formulate complete sentences—and watch TV—I decided the only possible explanation for my situation was that I was adopted. Roy Rogers and Dale Evans were my real parents. My mother and father played their roles in public well enough to pass, but they were so unqualified for the job I couldn’t take them seriously. I tried to reason with my mother and even gave her parenting tips from time to time (“You’re the mother; I’m the child,” “try not to get involved in our fights,” etc). When that failed, I told her she was immature.

My father was a traveling salesman for a hardware company and wasn’t usually home during the week. He may have been the actual subject of all those traveling salesman jokes: a good-looking smooth-talker with a million lines (i.e. lies) and a gal in every town.

My mother said he even fooled around on their honeymoon, and I don’t find that hard to believe. He had several long-term girlfriends, of which Bonnie was the most memorable, being the mother of my half-sister, Kelly, whom I’ve never met. Bonnie, who lived in Battle Creek—or Battle Crick—as my mother mockingly referred to it, habitually planted items of underwear in various motels where she stayed with my father registered as his wife. When a piece of lingerie was “found,” it was “returned” to my mother, along with a courteous note.

My mother was not amused. As I was her primary sounding board, she filled my head with sordid details I knew I shouldn’t be hearing. She also tried to get me to listen in on Dad’s telephone calls, but they were so inane I refused to waste my time. I would later find myself on the other end of Mom’s Spy vs. Spy intrigue as a result of my propensity for making “undesirable” friends—which reflected badly on her. After she forbade me to see a particular boyfriend (wrong race), she sent my youngest brother to follow me on his bicycle whenever I left the house. Of course, I never allowed her designs and devices to affect my choice of friends.

My parents often disappointed and infuriated me, but then I also find cloudy days disappointing and infuriating. Resisting my parents helped me learn how to think for myself—and to have, in spite of the odds, a pretty happy childhood—which is more success than I’ve had resisting the weather.

alive in the world

duskFor the past few days, I’ve been feeling almost normal, by which I mean less at the effect of the heart conditions that usually diminish my vitality to a greater or lesser extent. “Feeling like myself” is a transient state, unpredictable in occurrence, that I never take for granted.

So I went for a walk shortly after the sun set this evening. I noticed the fresh, cool air on my face. Paid attention to the glow of all the different lights: streetlights, headlights, lights in the windows of apartments and houses. Observed shadows, leaves on the ground, the first few faint stars, pastel colors fading in the Western sky. I heard a few scattered voices, a small dog barking, exchanged a greeting with a stranger I crossed paths with. I felt the lightness in my body, the feeling of exertion and of satisfaction.

I was reminded of that song from the 80s, Break My Stride:

Ain’t nothin’ gonna break-a my stride
Nobody gonna slow me down, oh no
I got to keep on movin’
Ain’t nothin’ gonna break-a my stride
I’m running and I won’t touch ground
Oh no, I got to keep on movin’

It’s a good theme song for me in Mountain Standard Time. Hope it’ll hold me til March 14, 2021!

 

“if you don’t get a new piano, Keith can’t play”

keith jarrettJanuary 1975. The Cologne Opera House where Keith Jarrett was about to perform for 1400 people—without rehearsing and without sheet music—had provided the wrong piano.

This one had this harsh, tinny upper register, because all the felt had worn away. The black notes were sticking, the white notes were out of tune, the pedals didn’t work and the piano itself was just too small. It wouldn’t create the volume that would fill a large space such as the Cologne Opera House. 

Jarrett left the building.

The concert promoter was a 17-year-old named Vera Brandes. It was her first concert. She went outside into the rain and found Jarrett sitting in his car. Somehow she persuaded him to come back inside and play the unplayable piano.

The rest, as they say, is history.

The Köln Concert is the best-selling piano album in history and the best-selling solo jazz album in history.

There is no audio file of that concert available to link to. But you can listen on You Tube to the entire Bremen Concert, which was recorded the following month and is equally sublime.

Disruptions help us solve problems; they help us become more creative. But we don’t feel that they’re helping us. We feel that they’re getting in the way … and so we resist. But all of us, from time to time, need to sit down and try and play the unplayable piano. 

Our comfort zones are not the best environments for creativity and innovation.


Note: Italicized portions are quotes from a TEDGlobal London talk by Tim Harford on how frustration can make us more creative.

happy new year 1978!

Just wanted to post this short excerpt from Skin of Glass, the novel I may yet undertake to get published.

BillieThere isn’t anywhere in Chicago he can’t get to by taxi or public transportation, so David hasn’t bothered to get another car since moving here. There’s a bus stop half a block from the entrance to his office and another one directly across from his apartment building. Of course taking the bus means waiting for the bus, which is what he’s doing right now, and lately that means risking freezing to death. Once he finally boards, finds a seat, and thaws enough to stop shivering uncontrollably, the bus is nearing his stop.

He rises to join the queue in front of the exit door, steeling himself against the inevitable. The bus jerks to a halt, and the side doors screech open. A blast of frigid air reaches into the heated vehicle and sucks him into its vortex. Gloved, hatted, and wrapped tight as a mummy against the chill wind blowing off Lake Michigan, he steps down to the street. In seconds, his lips are numb.

Bent forward against the force of the wind, he strides across Grand Avenue to the entrance of his building, a seventy-story glass and steel monument to Modernism. The sun is almost gone, but it was so weak and watery it made little difference. The temperature hasn’t been above freezing for the past few days. With the wind chill factor, it’s actually below zero. At least most of the snow from the last storm has been cleared away.

The doorman is wearing earmuffs under his maroon cap and a scarf wrapped snugly around the lower half of his face. Only his eyes and red-tipped nose are visible. He shouts a muffled but cheery “Happy New Year” to David, and David nods in return. On the elevator heading up to the thirty-sixth floor, he feels the familiar tingling in his extremities that accompanies a rapid change of temperature. He unwinds the gray and black woolen scarf from around his neck and unbuttons his charcoal overcoat. Once inside his apartment, he warms some brandy and sips the soothing liquid as he turns on lights and music before taking up his post in front of the bay window overlooking the wasteland below.

The first apartment he was in had a view of Lake Michigan and the marina. What could have possessed him to take that place? Some harebrained notion he might get another boat? Not likely. As soon as he was able to arrange it with management, he moved to this side of the building, paying a hefty fee for the privilege of altering his lease. It was worth it.

He stares morosely at the desolate scene below. Here and there, between the hard-packed gray remnants of snow, are dun-colored patches of earth barren of grass. Black skeletons of trees seem to be railing against the hostile gray sky. He’d actually hoped for snow to transform Chicago into something soft and white, sparkling, totally alien to his past associations with the holidays. He’s cured of any desire for snow now.

Well, if he can’t blot out the dreary landscape outside, he can do his best to blot out his equally dreary inner landscape.

He’s been invited to several New Year’s Eve parties but hadn’t decided whether to drink alone at his club or in a crowd at one of the parties. But now that he’s home, there’s no way he’s going out again. Anywhere. Unless someone were to resurrect Coltrane. Or Miles were to come to his senses and stop playing rock and roll. And either one of them were foolish enough to put on a show tonight in this frigid, godforsaken place. He’s got plenty to drink right here. Besides, a person could freeze to death out there, and he’s not quite suicidal yet.

He hasn’t looked at his mail for a couple of weeks because he doesn’t want to see cards from California. This is the first time he’s spent the holidays alone. But it isn’t being alone he minds so much; it’s anything that reminds him of home.

Billie Holiday’s strangely lyrical seen-it-all voice is crooning Yesterdays on his stereo. It doesn’t really matter what the words are, her voice always seems to let you know she’s right there in the same miserable place you are. She sounds as if she always knew the way it would end for her. The way it’s going to end for you, too, baby. And there’s not a damned thing you can do about it so you might as well stop trying.

Not that he’s really trying.

a garden of literary delights

five books (2)That’s what I discovered at the website Five Books: The Best Books on Everything. I can’t believe it took me this long to find it! But at least now I know I will never run out of ideas about what to read.

As the site says:
We ask experts to recommend the five best books in their subject and explain their selection in an interview. This site has an archive of more than one thousand interviews, or five thousand book recommendations. We publish at least two new interviews per week.

The 1,000+ interviews are organized into 18 categories, including philosophy, history, fiction, politics, science, psychology, environment, and music and drama. Under the subheading of literary nonfiction and biography, I found this interview with writer and journalist Peter Hessler, who recommended the best of narrative nonfiction. His selections were:

  • Coming into the Country by John McPhee
  • Among Schoolchildren by Tracy Kidder
  • Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion
  • A Capote Reader by Truman Capote
  • Son of the Morning Star by Evan Connell

The only book in that list that I’ve read is Slouching Towards Bethlehem (along with Play It as It Lays and The Year of Magical Thinking, also by Didion). Last month I watched The Center Will Not Hold, the 2017 documentary that told some stories about her I could sync to a few of my own memories of those times. None of our stories are true stories, but some are better than others. And Joan Didion is a very good storyteller.

I plan to read Among Schoolchildren because I enjoyed House so much that I still have a copy of it after several major book purges. I’d like to read some of Kidder’s other books, too, especially Strength in What Remains.

If you’re interested in pretty much anything, you’ll probably enjoy this site—and you’re likely to find some new interests there, too. Besides, curiosity and learning new things—including new concepts—expands your mental model, keeps your brain young, and improves your emotional granularity!

choose your summer reading

reading a book

If you’re in the habit of reading lots of fiction, you’re in the minority—and ahead of the game. You’re already reaping the many significant benefits of reading for your body, your brain, and your emotional and social well-being.

If you tend to stick to non-fiction, however, or most of your reading involves a digital device, now may be the time to spruce up your reading habits.

Here are three things to keep in mind when deciding what to read next:

  1. Choose fiction over non-fiction.
  2. Even better, choose literary fiction.
  3. Choose print over digital.

If you don’t know where to start, or what constitutes literary fiction, here are half a dozen suggestions—personal favorites I’ve read more than once—and a link to a post with their opening paragraphs:

  • Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson
  • The Fruit of Stone by Mark Spragg
  • Snow Falling on Cedars by David Guterson
  • One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
  • The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
  • Time Will Darken It by William Maxwell

Who are your favorite authors and what novels have you read more than once?

Happy reading!

from my newsletter lucidwakings

making things up: names and games

Kalkaska

The first thing kalkaskaI remember making up was a new name for my brother, Mark, who was born when I was three years old. I imagine I was not happy with all the attention he received merely for existing. When visitors thought they were being cute by asking me what my baby brother’s name was, I hissed “Kalkaska” and stomped out of the room. It was the name of a place where my father and his friends went hunting and the ugliest word I knew at the time. A few years later, I invented numerous ways to torture my brother, such as sending him out into the neighborhood dressed as an old woman.

brother-2.jpg

The look says it all: I still don’t get the point.

When my mother was expecting her third child, I was coincidentally agitating for a puppy. She suggested we have the new baby first and get a puppy the next year. I briefly considered the idea. But after my experiences with sibling number one, I decided it would be better to get the puppy first and a baby—if we absolutely had to have one—the following year. Needless to say, that didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. And it was another boy.

a proclivity for morbidity

During elementary school, I was the oldest of the neighborhood gang and both bossy and creative. After our ordinary games grew boring, I made up things for us to do. My parents’ backyard had several features that lent themselves nicely to these activities. The built-in brick barbecue grill, for example, had a large flat surface that proved ideal as a make-believe morgue slab. We kids took turns playing the “dead man” by simulating a deceased person spread out on top of the slab/grill, the cannibalistic aspects having escaped me at the time. Everyone else formed a semicircle around it chanting, “Dead man, dead man, come alive; come and catch me with your big green eyes.”

It was not poetry and it didn’t make a lot of sense, but it was great fun. The rest of us had to remain in place chanting away (there were more verses) until the dead man jumped up and started chasing us. The kid who was caught became the next dead man. As with any game, there were rules. In this case, lots of rules. In fact, we had frequent “rule breaks” to decide important matters, such as which neighbor’s backyard we were “legally” allowed to cross into.

a star is born?

ticketThen there was the wooden picnic table that served as a stage for several variety shows, in which all the other kids performed—complete with costume changes—to an audience of ticket-buying parents and neighbors. I was the writer/director/stage manager/promoter, and general whip-cracker. This was not unlike some of my later roles in life.

The shows were a natural extension of my playwriting hobby that began when I was quite young. I painstakingly printed every word of dialogue and stage direction, completing well over a hundred “great works,” all of which are long gone. I can imagine—although I can’t remember doing so—ceremoniously dumping them into the trash one day, upon deciding I’d outgrown that phase. It’s something I would have done.

and we get credit for this?

Still in elementary school, I volunteered for the Entertainment Committee one year. My co-chair and I were given specific dates—holidays and such—for which we were to provide some sort of entertainment for the class. We could do just about anything we wanted to do—and in front of a captive audience! Our stellar events included three plays that I wrote, cast, costumed, directed, and rehearsed in the coat room in the back of the classroom. We were excused from class for rehearsal. I couldn’t believe what an incredible racket we got to run.

The first two plays were, let’s say, not a complete success. By Christmas, though, I had it down. That play went off without a hitch and received sustained applause. Props included baked sugar cookies, which one of the actors frosted with real frosting I brought to school in one of my mother’s aqua Pyrex mixing bowls.

the unbirthday parties

My favorite creation from that time period was the series of unbirthday parties. One weekday near the beginning of summer, my next-door neighbor and I were trying to get her little brother to leave us alone so we could clean out a room in the basement of her house. I bribed him by promising we would have a birthday party for him later if he would go away now.

unbirthdayHe went for it and left us to our labors. When we finished, we talked my friend’s mother, who was a stay-at-home mom and a good sport, into helping us with the party. I will never forget that cake. I think it was one of my friend’s pre-Easy-Bake toy oven mixes because it was very small. The inside was chocolate and vanilla marble. The outside was covered in Kelly Green frosting and multicolored sprinkles. It was a cake only a kid could truly appreciate—or look at without gagging.

We all bought presents from the dime store and wrapped them before the party, which of course was held in the freshly cleaned and festively decorated room in the basement. It was such a blast that all the other kids wanted parties, too. There were seven of us altogether, so for the better part of two months we had weekly unbirthday parties, each one slightly more elaborate than the last. Both moms had to get involved when it was finally time for my party.

a rose by any other name would still call her brother Kalkaska

Eventually, I developed somewhat of a reputation in regard to my ring-leading nature and choice of activities, especially with my neighbor friend’s father. Whenever he thought something we were into was the least bit odd, he could be heard muttering that it must have been Joycelyn’s idea. Only he didn’t call me Joycelyn because that’s not the name my mother gave me. That’s the name I made up for myself some 40-odd years ago.

the flavor of my reflection

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAUnavoidably, time passes, things change, and the end of a year often brings up reflections on the differences between then (whenever that was) and now. I recently came across this post written in July 2009 for a previous blog and was taken aback by just how much things have changed since I wrote it.

rocking my world with nam sod

I found when I awoke on the dirty floor of our garage, with blood coming out of my nose and Zak frantically shaking me . . . that I had a sudden craving for nam sod. —Barbara Fisher, in her food blog, Tigers & Strawberries

Too funny! I was already thinking about nam sod when I came across this line, and it made me laugh out loud. Nam sod—a Thai salad made with ground pork, ginger, red onion, lemon or lime juice, the obligatory fish sauce, cilantro, and chili peppers, garnished with peanuts and served on lettuce leaves—is definitely one of the seven food wonders of my world. It has that combination of cilantro and ginger that transports me to another dimension, at least as prepared by Orchid Thai restaurant in San Anselmo, California. Some recipes call for mint in addition to, or (horror!) in place of the cilantro. Orchid Thai eschews the mint; I’m fine with that.

I got to share an order of nam sod when I visited the Bay Area last month, and my traveling companion, who’d never tasted it before, unfortunately found it nearly as delicious as I do. I would have been willing to consume her portion had she not found it to her liking. Still, half an order of nam sod is better than no nam sod at all. When I lived in the Bay Area, I’d go to Orchid Thai on my birthday to have this dish. Nam sod would be what I’d want as a last meal, although hopefully no one will be asking me to make that choice any time soon.

The name sort of sounds like something you’d shout while raising your fist—or a sword—into the air: Nam sod! Right? Which is exactly how I feel every time the waiter sets a plate of it down in front of me. Nam sod!


Well, I became vegetarian over three years ago, so it’s been quite a while since I’ve tasted nam sod. Yes, the idea of it still kind of makes my mouth water, but no, I wouldn’t eat it even if a beautifully garnished serving were placed in front of me.

In February of this year, I was diagnosed with a couple of heart conditions. The meds I’m on as a result require some dietary restrictions. I’m not, for example, supposed to have any cilantro or ginger. I attempt to be reasonable, but I can’t say I’m 100% compliant.

Even worse, Orchid Thai is no longer in business. On the one hand, that does make it a little easier to come to terms with never having nam sod again, since theirs was the best. On the other hand, they served other dishes that I would really like to taste again. There were definitely more delicious meals to be enjoyed there.

Finally, the traveling companion of this story—my friend, Patricia—passed away last week. We had many good times together after the hiking trip that took us from Albuquerque to the Bay Area and to dinner at Orchid Thai. And as it happens there’s a restaurant in Albuquerque named Thai Orchid that we frequented numerous times. But it wasn’t quite the same. Patricia and I definitely had more adventures left in us, more trips to take, more meals to enjoy.

In the spirit of the original post, here’s to good food, good hiking, and good friends. Nam sod, Patricia. Nam sod!

best five minutes of a perfect day

Pt.Reyes4It’s the middle of April, and I have been hiking a six-mile loop of trails at Bear Valley Trailhead in Point Reyes National Seashore: Bear Valley trail to Pine trail to Sky trail, and back on Bear Valley.

The best five minutes are in the early afternoon, when I’m about half-way and coming out of the trees and into the open.

The ground right here is hard and full of rocks and small stones instead of soft with the pine needles I’ve been walking on. The sun overhead is bright and glaring; it’s hot and I’m sweating hard.

In the mid-distance is Mount Wittenberg, but about an eighth of a mile ahead, the trail smooths out and winds to the left around a low hill completely covered in golden poppies waving and shimmering in the light breeze. It’s an amazing sight you don’t get to see unless you’ve worked for it, since it’s a considerable climb no matter which way you come up.

I’ve been anticipating this and I never, ever tire of it. I push ahead until the poppy-covered hill is on my right and a gradual, rolling, dark green, and lush drop-off on the left exposes specks of tents and tables from Sky Camp far below.

Beyond that is the blue-green water of Drake’s Bay lapping at the shore, sunlight rippling the surface. I’m so thirsty I stop and take a long drink of water from the plastic bottle in my backpack. The water’s warm but I gulp it, marveling at how much better water tastes when I’m hiking than at any other time.

I stand still, gazing at the distant water and letting the sweat evaporate from my skin. I smell the dust of the trail and the pine trees. I turn to look at the poppies again, drinking in the sight as a couple of orange and yellow butterflies flit in and out among them.

That’s paradise to me.

What are the best five minutes of your perfect day?

can the enneagram make you a better writer?

F2G Enneagram_transparentAt a SouthWest Writers meeting several years ago, a fiction writer at my table mentioned she didn’t always know what choice her character would make when faced with a decision, an obstacle, or a fork in the road. I had no opportunity to pursue the conversation with her, but I wanted to tell her about the Enneagram and how it could help her solve that problem.

I admire her for being honest about an issue many writers struggle with. Anyone who writes character-driven stories, real or fictional, must have a basic understanding of human nature. While some aspects of being human are common to all of us, we do differ from each other, sometimes in significant ways. The ways we’re different aren’t random, however. A writer can’t just throw together a hodgepodge of attitudes, behaviors, and characteristics and hope to come up with a believable character. Discerning readers recognize poorly drawn characters, whether they are two-dimensional or too multi-dimensional.

Our characters don’t just have to be believable to our readers; they also have to be believable to us. We have to know them better than they know themselves. Yes, we need to understand what they want and what’s in their way, but we also need to know what they’re afraid of, what they resist, what their unconscious motivations are, and what internal obstacles they must overcome in order to succeed. Having a good personality typing system to work with can make that so much easier. It can also help your characters stay on track instead of swerving off the rails.

cookie-cutter characters need not apply

cookie cutter personThe primary objections writers have to typing their characters are no different from the objections many non-writers have to being typed.

Don’t box me in. Some people believe they’re unique, so being typed diminishes them somehow. They think typing puts them into a box. But typing doesn’t put people into boxes; it identifies aspects of the boxes they’re already in. It points out what’s inside the box and what’s outside, both of which are equally important.

Typing equals stereotyping. That’s true. But stereotyping is just a form of categorizing, and categorizing is a function of the kind of thinking the unconscious part of the brain does automatically. We can’t stop the brain from categorizing, which means we’re already stereotyping other people. Understanding the elements of personality can result in informed rather than uninformed categorizing by the brain.

There’s more to me (or my character) than my type. It’s true that personality type doesn’t explain everything, but that’s not a good reason to dismiss it. Humans have a capacity, called mentalization, that allows us to understand our own mental states or thought processes and—more importantly for writers—to attribute mental states to others. We can recognize that others have beliefs, intentions, fears, and desires that are different from ours. Without this ability, we wouldn’t be able to get inside the heads of our characters. The better we’re able to understand where other people (real or imaginary) are coming from, the more true-to-life our characters will be.

why choose the enneagram?

The Enneagram isn’t the only personality typing system available. What I like about it is that the surface simplicity makes the basic concepts easy to grasp. But it is also comprehensive and multifaceted, both broad and deep, which allows for plenty of subtleties and variations.

Enneagram is a Greek word that means “diagram of nine.” The symbol consists of a triangle and a hexad within a circle. The resulting nine points represent nine basic, or core, personality types, each of which has a unique perspective and approach to life. The theory of the Enneagram is that we tend to polarize at one of the nine points, overdeveloping the characteristics associated with that point, while leaving undeveloped many of the characteristics associated with the other points. So each type also represents a particular kind of imbalance.

An individual’s core personality type remains the same over the course of a lifetime, which is why having a character change too much or too abruptly, or behave totally “out of character,” usually isn’t believable. But every character has the possibility for change, either positive (growth) or negative (deterioration). Any character can learn how to moderate and overcome his or her innate predispositions or be done in by them. In fact, that’s the basic arc of just about any character-driven story.

the nine types

Very briefly, these are the nine types:

  1. The Good Person, the Achiever, the Reformer, the Perfectionist. Principled and responsible, but can also be rule-bound and critical.
  2. The Helper, the Giver, the People Pleaser, the Partner. Compassionate and altruistic, but can also be co-dependent and manipulative.
  3. The Performer, the Succeeder, the Motivator, and the Status Seeker. Self-assured and accomplished, but can also be competitive and performance-driven.
  4. The Individualist, the Tragic Romantic, the Artist, the Sensitive Person. Creative and inspiring, but can also be overly dramatic and fault-finding.
  5. The Observer, the Investigator, the Knowledge-Seeker, the Thinker. Perceptive and curious, but can also be cold and detached.
  6. The Loyalist, the Questioner, the Guardian, the Devil’s Advocate. Organized and hard-working, but can also be indecisive and overly-vigilant.
  7. The Adventurer, the Epicure, the Generalist, the Enthusiast. Cheerful and multi-talented, but can also be acquisitive and thrill-seeking.
  8. The Challenger, the Confronter, the Leader, the Asserter. Courageous and magnanimous, but can also be combative and domineering.
  9. The Peacemaker, the Preservationist, the Mediator, the Universalist. Deeply receptive and serene, but can also be disengaged and inattentive.

You can probably identify a few people—real or fictional—who might fit some of these descriptions.

getting under your characters’ skin

masks 2One of the benefits of learning how to apply the Enneagram in your writing is the ability it gives you to get under your characters’ skin so you can know them better than they know themselves. While many personality characteristics are apparent—meaning they’re expressed externally—the motivation underlying them is internal and unconscious. Your characters, like actual people, think they know why they behave as they do, but there’s a good chance they’re wrong.

The following sketches of the nine Enneagram types may give you some ideas in regard to your own characters (the ones in your imagination as well as the ones you interact with in the so-called real world).

Type 1: the Good Person, the Achiever, the Reformer, the Perfectionist
Keyword: Principle. Ones are motivated to improve themselves and live the right way. They follow the rules, defend against criticism from the environment, and scan the environment for chaos or disorder to right. Sometimes they resent the fact that others seem to do as they please. Downside: They can come across as rigid, rule-bound, critical, and self-righteous. Upside: They can be highly principled and responsible with a strong sense of integrity and an ability to inspire others. Communication Style: Teaching, preaching, finding fault, admonishing. Self-talk: That’s not right. Fictional Example: Atticus Finch (To Kill a Mockingbird)

Type 2: the Helper, the Giver, the People Pleaser, the Partner
Keyword: Persuasion. Twos are motivated by the need to be loved and valued and to express their positive feelings toward others. They scan the environment to see what needs to be done, keeping their own needs out of their awareness by focusing on the needs of others. Downside: They can be co-dependent, manipulative martyrs. Upside: They can be sincere, empathetic, compassionate, altruistic people who make a positive difference in others’ lives. Communication Style: Befriending, supporting, offering advice, getting personal. Self-talk: You need me. Fictional Example: Garp (The World According to Garp)

Type 3: the Performer, the Succeeder, the Motivator, the Status Seeker
Keyword: Performance. Threes scan the environment for approval and resist being undermined by the environment. Wanting to be well regarded, successful, productive, and efficient, they focus more on their outer appearance than on the way they feel. Downside: They can be competitive and overly concerned with performance. Upside: They can be charming, self-assured, high-spirited, and persistent, making outstanding contributions and achievements. Communication Style: Promoting, exclaiming, motivational speeches, success stories. Self-talk: Watch me shine. Fictional Example: Jay Gatsby (The Great Gatsby)

Type 4: the Individualist, the Tragic Romantic, the Artist, the Sensitive Person
Keyword: Passion. Fours scan the environment for raw material and defend against being pigeonholed or limited by the environment. They search for what life means and try to understand their feelings and to avoid being ordinary. Downside: Since they compare reality with what could be, they find fault with who they are and what they have. Upside: They can be highly creative and inspiring and have the ability to transform all their experiences into something valuable. Communication Style: Longing, lamenting, poetic turns of phrase, self-expression. Self-talk: I’m feeling…. Fictional Example: Blanche DuBois (A Streetcar Named Desire)

Type 5: the Observer, the Investigator, the Knowledge-Seeker, the Thinker
Keyword: Privacy. Fives scan the environment for information and defend against intrusion from the environment. They want to be self-sufficient, to know and understand, and to avoid feeling invaded; they enjoy being alone with their own thoughts. Downside: They can seem cold and detached, preferring their own minds to the company of others. Upside: They can be highly perceptive, insightful, curious, mentally alert, and open-minded. Communication Style: Detailed explanations, facts, precise instructions, definitions. Self-talk: I’m thinking…. Fictional Example: Sherlock Holmes

Type 6: the Loyalist, the Questioner, the Guardian, the Devil’s Advocate
Keyword: Participation. Sixes scan the environment for agreement and support, defending against instability in the environment. They tend to be cautious, compliant, and dependent, but they can also be indecisive and overly vigilant. Upside: They can be great community builders, who are responsible, organized, and hardworking. Communication Style: Questioning, second-guessing, trouble-shooting, warning. Self-talk: But what if…. Fictional Example: Hamlet

Type 7: the Adventurer, the Epicure, the Generalist, the Enthusiast
Keyword: Pleasure. Sevens scan the environment for gratification, resisting frustration from it. They want to be happy, to contribute to the world, and to avoid pain and suffering. They suppress anxiety by making lots of plans and keeping busy. Downside: They can become acquisitive and materialistic, focused on avoiding boredom and amusing themselves. Upside: They can be resilient and cheerful, multitalented, accomplished achievers who bring people together. Communication Style: Storytelling, joking, entertaining, imagining. Self-talk: On a lighter note…. Fictional Example: Holly Golightly (Breakfast at Tiffany’s)

Type 8: the Challenger, the Confronter, the Leader, the Asserter
Keyword: Power. Eights scan the environment to see where the power lies and resist impact from the environment. They want to be self-reliant and strong and to have an impact on the world. They readily express their anger. Downside: They can be combative and adversarial, attempting to dominate their environment. Upside: They can be courageous and magnanimous, natural leaders who champion people and focus on achieving their vision. Communication Style: Debating, arguing, giving directions, taking aim. Self-talk: Do this my way. Fictional Example: Jo March (Little Women).

Type 9: the Peacemaker, the Preservationist, the Mediator, the Universalist
Keyword: Peace. Nines scan the environment for union or merger, defending against conflict or disharmony. They are the type most likely to identify with the other types. They blend in, accommodate others, and forget their own wants and needs. Downside: They can become disengaged, unreflective, and inattentive, expressing their anger indirectly. Upside: They can be deeply receptive and trusting, stable and serene, and excellent mediators and communicators. Communication Style: Recounting sagas and epics, generalizing, daydreaming aloud, wondering. Self-talk: Nice ‘n’ easy. Fictional Example: Chauncey Gardner (Being There)

enneagram characters…in character

knitting womanUsing a personality typing system the wrong way can lead to creating stereotypical or cardboard characters.

But stereotyping results from generalizing based on a few personal characteristics of any sort, including nationality, religion, gender, race, height or weight, occupation, hobby, pet ownership, age, relationship status, or even eye or hair color.

It’s easy to turn a single (relationship status), 60-year-old (age) woman (gender) who knits (hobby) and owns a cat (pet) into a stereotype. You can probably picture her. Maybe you know someone just like her—or think you do.

Using her as a stock character is economical because the author doesn’t need to provide much additional information for readers to fill in the gaps. If this character is to play a more significant role, however, she can’t remain a stereotype. Let’s try looking at our single, 60-year-old female cat-owning knitter through the lens of the nine types of the Enneagram.

Type 1: The Critical Knitter: Fran is an intake coordinator at the local animal shelter. She always follows the policies and procedures, which is not the case for her co-workers whose mistakes she has to correct. She believes she is more qualified than her supervisor. Her tight-lipped attempts to remain composed and professional instead of telling everyone what she thinks are exhausting. In the evening, she attacks her knitting furiously, often tearing out several rows at a time because the work doesn’t meet her standard of perfection.

Type 2: The Self-Sacrificing Knitter: Marcia knits blankets, scarves, and sweaters for her siblings’ grandchildren, from whom she rarely receives a thank-you note or phone call. Even her nieces and nephews are much less grateful than they used to be. She wonders if they use the things she sends them, but it wouldn’t feel right to stop making them. So although she’d rather spend some of her knitting time reading or going out, she stays home to knit and to make sure her aging cat is comfortable.

Type 3: The Competitive Knitter: Lisa began making her own clothes in order to develop a distinctive personal style. She turned her clothing designs into a successful business which she’s currently still running. She recently took up knitting as a way to relax while being productive. But when she found out the largest yarn store in town awards prizes at an annual contest, she committed herself to besting the previous winner. Her cat is now banished to the bedroom so he won’t mess with the yarn.

Type 4: The Expressive Knitter: Olivia enjoys the various textures and colors of yarn and likes to make one-of-a-kind pieces that represent things like openness, love, or loneliness. She incorporates found objects into each one to give them added dimension. However, she tends not to follow patterns so her creations don’t always turn out the way she envisions them. That can be wonderful or utterly devastating, depending on the results. On the days she’s tempted to toss all of it into the trash, she’s sure her cat is judging her.

Type 5: The Speculative Knitter: Erin taught herself how to knit when she was 10-years-old. Having mastered the technique, she doesn’t have to think about it while she’s doing it. Instead, she uses her knitting time to ponder how to solve the world’s—and her own—problems. She enjoys thinking about things much more than she enjoys spending time with others, including her boyfriend who has become increasingly demanding of her attention. Her cat, on the other hand, has become more withdrawn. When did she last see him?

Type 6: The Anxious Knitter: Sandra has a long bus commute to work five days a week. She tried reading to pass the time but was so distracted by the scenery, overheard conversations, and passengers getting on and off that she lost track of the stories. Knitting absorbs less of her attention yet it keeps her hands occupied. That helps calm her, but it also allows her mind to ruminate about the upcoming company merger, the health of her 16-year-old cat, and the next-door neighbor she’s sure is dealing drugs.

Type 7: The Enthusiastic Knitter: Amy just learned how to knit! She loves it! In fact she’s told all her friends about it and has started a knitting circle. She carries her knitting bag everywhere so she can continue working on one of her projects. Switching back and forth keeps her from getting bored like she did with watercolor painting and photography. Last week, she had to have her cat put to sleep, but she plans to get another one at the animal shelter on Saturday.

Type 8: The Driven Knitter: Carla has a demanding job and volunteers at a women’s shelter. Recently, she agreed to help her neighbor with the crafts festival at her son’s school. She has little down time, so she took up knitting to relax. That backfired, though, because now she’s running a group that knits hats and scarves for women at the shelter. She’d like to get more exercise and eat healthier, but who has time? At least she takes excellent care of her cat.

Type 9: The Avoidant Knitter: Justine works in a large office. For some reason, everyone comes to her with their problems. Sometimes she’s able to help, but it’s very distressing to have to listen to them. She’d rather not get involved. Hoping to be left alone during her breaks, she started bringing her knitting to work and made a sign to hang on the wall of her cubicle. It says “Knitting in Progress” and has a picture of her cat so people will know not to be offended.

The brief sketches of these nine different knitters indicate some of the strengths and weaknesses—and opportunities for conflict—inherent within each type. The Enneagram also identifies how they are likely to act and react, their deepest fears, and the challenges they need to overcome. This information can help writers create characters that are both interesting and believable.

~

NOTE: This post was originally published as a series of articles in the SouthWest Sage, the newsletter of SouthWest Writers.

For more information on the Ennegram, please visit my Enneagram website, Nine Paths.

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