Memories are resistance! Whew! Sometimes you read a line and think yes! That's so true. I knew this in my bones but I'd never articulated it. Love this.
"Have you ever felt like swimming underwater, unable to reach the surface and catch your breath?"
It's a line from my last essay which is my first attempt at memoir writing and the first time I have opened up about past painful experiences and events that profoundly shaped who I am today.
Yes, I love this, Maïlys. Thank you for joining Writer's Show-and-Tell!
As an editor, whenever someone brings me a theme that taps into such universal connection, I always invite them to step into the specific. Yes, take me under water. And tell me: who is under water with you? What do you see? Is there a neighborhood? A friend? Nothing at all. What does the nothingness feel like. You know how to take us there.
That’s the power of self disclosure in writing: that there is no requirement to make sense of who you are. Only to disclose and unfold, detail by detail.
Thank you so much Amanda. Your editor's feedback - especially what you said after 'take me under water and tell me' - made me break into tears. Is it because I'm afraid to go there once again, I don't know. I think I'll have to tune into my body to know what to make of this reaction. But that's where I want to go, so I need to face these fears.
Thank you Donna! I’ve been working on an edit of the text with the feedback from Amanda this morning. Trying to revive the feelings associated with this memory to help people ´come under with me’. That also made me want to edit another part of the essay. Now, I just don’t know if I’m ready to put this edit live. But that feedback was really useful.
Here is a line from a little poem I wrote yesterday called "The In-between Times" - "The time we wait with bated breath, the time we know we're close to death" I love this idea for Show-and-Tell, thank you Amanda x
"And as the ice begins to melt, you may find that what flows beneath is not only pain but also power—the power to feel, to move, to reclaim your body as your own."
This line comes from a *Letter from Love* exploring the deep connection between anger, trauma, and healing. It speaks to the way unexpressed rage and pain can freeze within the body, locked away for survival. The letter invites a gentle thawing—not through force, but through warmth and self-compassion—revealing that beneath the pain lies a powerful force: the ability to reclaim oneself, to move freely, and to inhabit one’s body with agency and love.
"Assemblage is an attempt to embrace the fullness of myself. Let's face it: we all contain multitudes. But in life, we’re often asked to check just one box. This new platform is me choosing the fourth option on the multiple-choice list: All of the above."
Congratulations on launching your platform! And thank you for sharing. I can imagine plenty of people will relate ... We're all assembling, disassembling and it seems to be on repeat. ☀️
Thanks for chiming in and sharing today, Shaista! When I read the phrase "ancient whispers," I couldn't help but wonder about the moment of meeting a stranger. And then that made me want to share: whenever we're encountering strangers in our writing, I always try to ask: am I proving through my use of texture, detail, movement, that it was, indeed, strange or surprising? I wonder if you could show me why his face was a new novelty? Thanks again for jumping in. It's great to have you here. 🫶
Prior to these sentences, I describe an involuntary pull that directed my stare and the hushed buzz that fell as a blanket around me. When I mumbled to my friend to look, she responded (from outside my stillness) that his face looked like an ‘upside down Hershey kiss.’
😆 And then, this summation followed.
How about ‘His face, a novelty imprinted.’ ?
Is this more showing that you were asking? Or am I out in left field?
“Herkimer the skeleton dangled from a hook in Mrs. Milliken’s ninth-grade science classroom.” First sentence of “This Old Bone House,” in which I set up a metaphor that will drive a meditation on the fragile human body that we don’t appreciate until age has its way with us. https://open.substack.com/pub/ronamaynard/p/this-old-bone-house?r=ngwcq&utm_medium=ios
This paragraph, but which sentence? Perhaps the middle one:
I love the rhythm of walking each day while the sun wheels overhead, marking the hours from dawn to dusk. The vastness of the landscape opens up a larger internal space where the stifling effects of illness are forgotten. It’s like coming home and taking up residence again after a long time away; I feel more myself than I have for years.
I’m interested in what Amanda has to say about your sentence Jen. I love it. It immediately drew me in and got me thinking (and I want to read the whole thing). Using the words ‘save us’ is very powerful.
I'm definitely wondering if you show me what realism sounds like next. And what it means to imagine our way back to wholeness. Where does realism show up when it's least invited?
'When exactly are we supposed to be eating these things in your books?
I mean I get it during the holiday season, that makes sense, there are so many things to eat for a whole two or more weeks dedicated to stuffing our faces but the rest of the year…, I couldn’t possibly…'
or this one 'There will be coffee and if you happen to have any older relatives visiting there will be comments that yours is just simply too strong.' I can't pick just one!
This is so fun I rummaged around in some old posts to share a line, not necessarily my best line but one that is true to my heart. I urge us to consider what “having it together” looks like and that it may be as simple as how we carry ourselves and the energy we put out into the world:
What does having your shit together look like? I saw it once in the produce section of our grocery store.
It was a couple in their late seventies. I (un-stalkingly🤣) followed them around the store because they had the most amazing presence that really got my attention.
haha I'm reminded of the thrill I always got when I walked into our Safeway on $2 Daffodil Day, buckets and buckets of daffies, and I'd buy an armload and feel like the Queen of Yellow. 🤣
"Pacific Banana Slugs don't arrive empty when slugging up on fallen logs; they bring their whole selves, their slow wisdom, their ability to dissolve decay into nourishment."
From a recent piece about leadership during uncertain times and learning from slugs.
So hard to choose one line! 😬 What a fun exercise, Amanda! Thank you!
Here are my runners-up from my most recent essay:
"Little Granny’s old bedroom would be consumed by the red hot, and I can’t help but wonder now what my Granny, a devout Christian, would have thought of this scene of hell in her home, in her sanctuary."
"We endured another decade or so of abuse, and, like the fury of the fire that took my Granny’s home, we were left with nothing but a trail of smoke and tears."
I can’t help but think that you’d probably write a compelling meditation on fire and heat, Katrina. A sort of then-and-now-and-what-you-don’t-yet-have-figured-out piece.
Thank you for sharing, Onika! I definitely see how the context is helpful here. Separation between two people is challenging to sum up, no matter the medium we use. 🫶
Thinking of which line is the one line is maybe the most fun I’ve had all day (my son is home sick so 😅). I don’t know if this is the actual one but it’s the first one that came to mind -
“It makes me wonder what it is about me that’s so easy to forget”
Thank you 💌 I can definitely relate to learning to trust that. It’s also interesting to look back as I get older and wonder who actually did the forgetting (if there was any at all). The more I learn about myself, the more there is to revisit.
“Memories are resistance, subversive yardsticks for how life is changing.”
From a recent post about how your memories can protect you against tyranny and Technocracy .
Memories are resistance! Whew! Sometimes you read a line and think yes! That's so true. I knew this in my bones but I'd never articulated it. Love this.
Thank you Noha
You write so beautifully Noha, even in you comments 🙏🏻
Spot on and so poignant!
Susan, this is amazing. Like Amanda I love that you used the word resistance.
Thanks Donna, I appreciate you saying this, we all need resistance in these strange times.
"Have you ever felt like swimming underwater, unable to reach the surface and catch your breath?"
It's a line from my last essay which is my first attempt at memoir writing and the first time I have opened up about past painful experiences and events that profoundly shaped who I am today.
Yes, I love this, Maïlys. Thank you for joining Writer's Show-and-Tell!
As an editor, whenever someone brings me a theme that taps into such universal connection, I always invite them to step into the specific. Yes, take me under water. And tell me: who is under water with you? What do you see? Is there a neighborhood? A friend? Nothing at all. What does the nothingness feel like. You know how to take us there.
That’s the power of self disclosure in writing: that there is no requirement to make sense of who you are. Only to disclose and unfold, detail by detail.
Thank you so much Amanda. Your editor's feedback - especially what you said after 'take me under water and tell me' - made me break into tears. Is it because I'm afraid to go there once again, I don't know. I think I'll have to tune into my body to know what to make of this reaction. But that's where I want to go, so I need to face these fears.
Yes I have felt this. I’m not an editor but I’m guessing having a line with a universal sensation is a great way to go.
Thank you Donna! I’ve been working on an edit of the text with the feedback from Amanda this morning. Trying to revive the feelings associated with this memory to help people ´come under with me’. That also made me want to edit another part of the essay. Now, I just don’t know if I’m ready to put this edit live. But that feedback was really useful.
Here is a line from a little poem I wrote yesterday called "The In-between Times" - "The time we wait with bated breath, the time we know we're close to death" I love this idea for Show-and-Tell, thank you Amanda x
"And as the ice begins to melt, you may find that what flows beneath is not only pain but also power—the power to feel, to move, to reclaim your body as your own."
This line comes from a *Letter from Love* exploring the deep connection between anger, trauma, and healing. It speaks to the way unexpressed rage and pain can freeze within the body, locked away for survival. The letter invites a gentle thawing—not through force, but through warmth and self-compassion—revealing that beneath the pain lies a powerful force: the ability to reclaim oneself, to move freely, and to inhabit one’s body with agency and love.
Yes, I love this truth. ☀️
Wonderful, Jay.
Thank you Troy. It means a lot coming from you.
"Walking through Costco with my dad on a Saturday morning is like walking through Coachella with a rock star"
From this post last fall: https://nohabeshir.substack.com/p/costco-runs-with-baba
A sharply drawn word picture that says so much about you and your dad.
Thanks Rona! He's exactly what he sounds like 😊
I love the Coachella reference!!!
Thx Donna!
"Assemblage is an attempt to embrace the fullness of myself. Let's face it: we all contain multitudes. But in life, we’re often asked to check just one box. This new platform is me choosing the fourth option on the multiple-choice list: All of the above."
Granted it's more than one line, but I'm happy with how this flowed in the essay I published a few hours ago introducing my new platform (called Assemblage): https://ramyavivekanandan.substack.com/p/introducingassemblage
Thank you for the opportunity to show and tell!
Congratulations on launching your platform! And thank you for sharing. I can imagine plenty of people will relate ... We're all assembling, disassembling and it seems to be on repeat. ☀️
Thank you so much, Amanda. I hope so! I really appreciate this opportunity to share.
Well done Ramya, congrats on your launch!
Thank you, Donna 🙏🏾
“His name, I did not know. His face, a new novelty. But the tug inside, as if ancient whispers laying dormant awakened at first sight.”
From my memoir writing on a moment that I knew of before it ever happened - love at first sight.
Thanks for chiming in and sharing today, Shaista! When I read the phrase "ancient whispers," I couldn't help but wonder about the moment of meeting a stranger. And then that made me want to share: whenever we're encountering strangers in our writing, I always try to ask: am I proving through my use of texture, detail, movement, that it was, indeed, strange or surprising? I wonder if you could show me why his face was a new novelty? Thanks again for jumping in. It's great to have you here. 🫶
Hi Amanda. Thanks for allowing the space.
Prior to these sentences, I describe an involuntary pull that directed my stare and the hushed buzz that fell as a blanket around me. When I mumbled to my friend to look, she responded (from outside my stillness) that his face looked like an ‘upside down Hershey kiss.’
😆 And then, this summation followed.
How about ‘His face, a novelty imprinted.’ ?
Is this more showing that you were asking? Or am I out in left field?
I appreciate your guidance. Thank you!
“Herkimer the skeleton dangled from a hook in Mrs. Milliken’s ninth-grade science classroom.” First sentence of “This Old Bone House,” in which I set up a metaphor that will drive a meditation on the fragile human body that we don’t appreciate until age has its way with us. https://open.substack.com/pub/ronamaynard/p/this-old-bone-house?r=ngwcq&utm_medium=ios
I love the visual! Pulled in immediately.
The next line really revs the engine! ;-)
"If she thought his jaunty name would get us pumped for the anatomy unit, she thought wrong."
This paragraph, but which sentence? Perhaps the middle one:
I love the rhythm of walking each day while the sun wheels overhead, marking the hours from dawn to dusk. The vastness of the landscape opens up a larger internal space where the stifling effects of illness are forgotten. It’s like coming home and taking up residence again after a long time away; I feel more myself than I have for years.
“Realism doesn’t save us or heal our wounds — we have to imagine our way back to wholeness.”
I was writing about grief and my tendency to be practical and utilitarian. Facts were not comforting me nor my grieving family.
I’m interested in what Amanda has to say about your sentence Jen. I love it. It immediately drew me in and got me thinking (and I want to read the whole thing). Using the words ‘save us’ is very powerful.
This comment from Amanda is a great prompt I definitely plan to explore! —> “Where does realism show up when it's least invited?”
This is an excellent prompt! I’m going to play with that one too.
I'm definitely wondering if you show me what realism sounds like next. And what it means to imagine our way back to wholeness. Where does realism show up when it's least invited?
“Where does realism show up when it's least invited?” Wow, thank you. This is a prompt I will definitely be exploring. Thank you!!
'When exactly are we supposed to be eating these things in your books?
I mean I get it during the holiday season, that makes sense, there are so many things to eat for a whole two or more weeks dedicated to stuffing our faces but the rest of the year…, I couldn’t possibly…'
I guess this is two sentences but this was the opening to this post, https://sarahfrison.substack.com/p/what-do-you-do-on-a-sunday-afternoon, about taking time to consciously enjoy things rather than just consuming them and rituals around that.
or this one 'There will be coffee and if you happen to have any older relatives visiting there will be comments that yours is just simply too strong.' I can't pick just one!
It's hard to pick just one! Thank you for sharing — I totally relate to the feedback on the coffee. :)
Haha, strong coffee always!
I don’t have a line to share today but am loving all these brilliant contributions!
Same!! What talented submissions!!
This is so fun I rummaged around in some old posts to share a line, not necessarily my best line but one that is true to my heart. I urge us to consider what “having it together” looks like and that it may be as simple as how we carry ourselves and the energy we put out into the world:
What does having your shit together look like? I saw it once in the produce section of our grocery store.
This made me smile, Donna. I'm interested in knowing what comes next. Is it a pile of mushrooms? A sack of potatoes? A cluster of bright green dill?
It was a couple in their late seventies. I (un-stalkingly🤣) followed them around the store because they had the most amazing presence that really got my attention.
Donna "Def Not a Stalker" McArthur rides again... 🤣😘
haha I'm reminded of the thrill I always got when I walked into our Safeway on $2 Daffodil Day, buckets and buckets of daffies, and I'd buy an armload and feel like the Queen of Yellow. 🤣
"Pacific Banana Slugs don't arrive empty when slugging up on fallen logs; they bring their whole selves, their slow wisdom, their ability to dissolve decay into nourishment."
From a recent piece about leadership during uncertain times and learning from slugs.
This is so curious! Slugs and leadership. I'm definitely wondering what the takeaway is... :)
thank you! I surprised myself with this piece - didn't expect to write a leadership piece from a piece that started about slugs lol
So hard to choose one line! 😬 What a fun exercise, Amanda! Thank you!
Here are my runners-up from my most recent essay:
"Little Granny’s old bedroom would be consumed by the red hot, and I can’t help but wonder now what my Granny, a devout Christian, would have thought of this scene of hell in her home, in her sanctuary."
"We endured another decade or so of abuse, and, like the fury of the fire that took my Granny’s home, we were left with nothing but a trail of smoke and tears."
https://katrinadonhamwrites.substack.com/p/a-loss-is-a-loss-is-a-loss
I can’t help but think that you’d probably write a compelling meditation on fire and heat, Katrina. A sort of then-and-now-and-what-you-don’t-yet-have-figured-out piece.
Thanks for sharing these. ☀️
Ooh, I've never written one! I may try my hand at it now that I have your encouragement! Thank you!
"That was where the difference lied. For she was so rich in the life she had lead till now. And I was too poor to love."
This isn't exactly the line as I don't have my fantasy manuscript in front of me, but it's close.
It encompasses 2 characters who find themselves connected in a dream, one hoping to discover fates plan and the other, hell-bent on avoiding it.
Thank you for sharing, Onika! I definitely see how the context is helpful here. Separation between two people is challenging to sum up, no matter the medium we use. 🫶
Thinking of which line is the one line is maybe the most fun I’ve had all day (my son is home sick so 😅). I don’t know if this is the actual one but it’s the first one that came to mind -
“It makes me wonder what it is about me that’s so easy to forget”
Oh, Jocelyn. What a line. And I’m glad you chimed in. I know this feeling. It took a very long time to trust that the right friends won’t forget me. 🫶
Thank you 💌 I can definitely relate to learning to trust that. It’s also interesting to look back as I get older and wonder who actually did the forgetting (if there was any at all). The more I learn about myself, the more there is to revisit.