BE A STORYTELLER : WRITING FOR PHOTOGRAPHERS

“Once upon a time, a couple in their thirties fell pregnant. After a previous miscarriage they’d made it to the 12 week mark and began to relax. They started sharing the happy news with family and friends, excitedly planning for the future. She knew in her heart it was a little boy. A sweet gentle soul, she thought. Toying with a growing list of names proved a welcome distraction from the morning sickness, which lasted all day, by the way. On her better days she put on music and danced. With her hands on her belly she connected with the life inside, already recognising herself as a mum. Recognising herself in so many new ways. That woman was me.” (from The Rallying Cry)

 

I started writing The Rallying Cry a year ago, almost to the day. At the time, I had no idea if anyone would ever read it, and that wasn’t even the point. There was something inside of me that wanted out, a voice I could no longer ignore.

 

As photographers, we understand the power of visual storytelling and words can sometimes take second place. We hope and trust that our images are enough to bridge the gap between where we stand and a place of empathy and connection. But sometimes, perhaps a little extra help is needed. And this is where words come in. 

 

If you’ve followed me for a while, you know that I love a good story. I’m learning through trial and error that people don’t always love to have things explained to them. It can feel patronising and even a little dull. But a story, well, who doesn’t love a good story? Jesus told stories and it seemed to work quite well for him.

 

I’m not religious by the way, but if you’ve read The Rallying Cry, you may remember that I mentioned some kind of spiritual awakening. And this wasn’t necessarily because of what I went through with Charlie, but because of writing.

 

“Religion is for people who are afraid of Hell, spirituality is for those who’ve been there.” - Elizabeth Gilbert

 

Liz Gilbert (along with many others creatives) often talk about a connection to a higher place when they are in a state of flow with their creativity. And I bet you know that feeling too. It’s the moments where you’re transfixed by the light that dances on your wall, ducking and diving to photograph it. It’s the times you chase fluffy-bottomed bumble bees around the garden longer than is sensible to do so as a fully-grown adult. Before you even realise, 20 minutes has passed. 

 

These days I’m slightly addicted to that feeling of flow, and writing just gives me another chance to access it. It super charges my creative self-care. 

 

But how do we get started? How do we really know what it is we want to say? And how can we find our voice? Well the honest answer is, I don’t think we can ever truly know until we just get stuck in, and go for it.

 

I heard LG chatting with Julia Cameron earlier in the week about the value of Morning Pages. If you haven’t heard this podcast episode yet, I think you would love it. Liz talks of her devotion to this form of writing, saying that she would never have written her best-selling novel, Eat, Pray, Love if she hadn’t repeatedly, unconsciously scrawled the words: “I want to learn to speak Italian” over and over. She paid attention to that voice, following her curiosity all the way to Italy, and the rest, as they say, is history. 

 

We uncover our stories simply by writing. We find the common threads of our existence and universal truths. We find the next step. And when we take courage in sharing our stories, we find our connection to humanity.

 

As Glennon Doyle said in one of her Instagram posts this week: “We must keep telling our stories -- even when it’s scary -- because we must constantly remind each other that we are not alone down here. That you are not alone down here.


If something is telling you to write, please just write: Head down. Butt in chair. Nothing fancy. Writing isn’t about showing off, it’s about showing ourselves. So we can see each other, for once. So we can all be less afraid.”

 

With tears rising, I want to tell you that writing The Rallying Cry helped me to find self-acceptance. To learn to forgive myself. It’s also opened doors for me in ways that blogging and Instagram captioning never could. It’s helped me connect with my community and my clients. My people. Writing is so, so powerful. 

 

On that note, I was invited recently to take part in the wonderful new podcast “Curating the Curious”, hosted by the lovely and inspiring LeAnna Azzolini. Our conversation went live this week and if you’re curious to hear the story behind the story, I’d love to invite you to listen here if you have some time this weekend.