Craft Advice with Nana-Ama Danquah
On contemplation, the impact of depression on writing, beautiful segues, writing honestly about ourselves, ghostwriting, raising a child as an author, and the magic of timed writing.
Intimate conversations with our greatest heart-centered minds.
The 25th Anniversary Edition of her groundbreaking memoir, Willow Weep for Me: A Black Woman’s Journey Through Depression, was published this year with a foreword by Andrew Solomon. She’s also edited four anthologies: Becoming American: Personal Essays by First Generation Immigrant Women; Shaking the Tree: New Fiction and Memoir by Black Women; The Black Body; and, Accra Noir.
If you missed part one of our interview, you can read it here.
I loved speaking with Nana-Ama about her work. She offered some tips I can’t wait to try out! I think you’ll feel the same. As always, let me know what you think in the comments!
❤️ Ongoing gratitude to all the paid subscribers whose support for Beyond not only allows me to keep writing this newsletter, it also supports The DeTommaso Dogs. Our monthly donation helps keep these sweet doggies healthy and off the streets. Thank you! ❤️
Where do you write?
I travel so much that I write wherever I can. There’s usually a desk at the hotel. At home, I have an office, but right now, I’m restructuring it, so I set up a little table in the living room. Surprisingly, it’s quite nice — I’m surrounded by my bookcase.
Do you write by hand or on a laptop?
I use a huge desktop, one of those Macs that’s as big as a TV screen. That’s my defiance. Everything was getting smaller and smaller, I was getting older and older, my eyes were getting worse and worse, and I wanted to see! For essays and fiction, I use the computer. For poetry, flash fiction, or flash essays, I tend to write by hand. I’m not sure why, but it feels natural that way.
Do you write every day?
I'm engaged in the practice of writing every day, but it's not necessarily putting pen to paper. I’m a big believer that one of the things we removed from the practice of writing is contemplation. I think about my work every day, and I take notes sometimes, but I don't force myself to sit. I think it's a punishing act. People say it comes when you sit, but I also believe it can be stifled, it can be caught. So I actively engage with the work — but I’ll take a walk or I'll do dishes or other tasks that I can perform by rote so my mind can focus on my creative pursuits. Most days, I’ll eventually find myself at my desk.
When I do, I write using a version of the Pomodoro method. I write for an hour and then take a ten-minute break.
If you’re out walking or doing the dishes and a wonderful idea comes to you, do you have a notebook or do you text yourself or something else?
I write it in the Notes app on my phone.
If you’re having a rough day, either mentally or physically, do you write on that day? And if so, is your writing different on those kinds of days?
Oh, yes. Depression is great for writing. (laughs) There are times when you get too depressed. I haven't been in that position in a really long time. But melancholy is great for writing. How many happy poems and songs do you know? I'm able to really write because I don't want to do anything else. I'll read and I'll write, and that's it.
Do you feel like you access yourself differently in that state? And if so, what is the difference?
There’s less of a curtain, less apprehension. I’m more able to tell the truth about internal things. Poetry, for example, comes easier with depression. Memoir or deep introspective work on painful issues becomes more accessible. I don't want to make it seem like it's easy, because it's still hurtful, it's still painful. But I have greater access to it.
That’s because when I'm not melancholic, I don't want to go there. I'll avoid writing about being abused. I don't want to step into that emotion. I don’t want to step into that pain. When I’m already in a melancholy mood, it feels like I’m halfway there.
That makes a lot of sense. In Willow Week for Me, you’re shifting between timelines. Can you talk about how you know when to go into backstory, how long to stay, and when to return to the front story?
I have absolutely no idea. When the book first came out, twenty-five years ago, I was being interviewed by somebody who said, “Wow, this is really difficult what you've done.” And I said, “Is it?” I just wrote the story.
You have the most beautiful segues. Your final sentence in a section beautifully summarizes what just happened as it sets up what’s coming next. Do you have any tips for that?
I’m really conscious of what it is that I’m writing. When I went to Bennington for my MFA, I already had the book deal, but I edited it there. I had a wonderful teacher, Bob Shacochis, who I wish everyone could study with. He’d read some of my stuff, and thought I was a really good writer. So imagine my shock when I turn in my first packet to him, I get it back, and all I see is red. He said, “you're a good writer, but my job is to make you a better writer.”
He taught me to “fight for the life of your work.” Most people turn in work not understanding what it is that they're trying to say. Then an editor gets their hands on it, which then further confuses the person, because now they're doing what the editor wants them to do. What Bob taught me to do is to know what every single word on that page is there for. Sometimes he’d have me count the number of words in each sentence? Then I’d have to ask myself: Why do I have this word here? What does it serve in the construction of the sentence? What does it serve in moving the narrative forward?
By understanding what I'm doing in that section, I’m then able to close it and segue to the next section, because I know where the narrative is going. It’s like the train conductor going, “Everybody on! Next stop this.” It’s joining the cars together and moving forward.
That’s beautifully put.
My writing goes to so many different places that it's important to take the reader by the hand and say, "Are we still here? We're journeying together, right?”
Do you polish each section before moving on, or do you draft the whole thing and then refine?
I do both. I try to polish each section as much as I can before considering it a draft. If I have the luxury of putting it away for a bit, I do that, then revisit it as another draft.
When you start something new, do you have things plotted out, or just begin writing and see where it takes you?
I have it plotted out, though not in great detail. I use letters, like "A" leading to "B," leading to “C” and have key points for each. I look at it like modern day GPS. You get to that intersection between B and C, and there's no traffic light there, and it's a really busy highway, and you're like, “Oh, shit!” So you have to reverse, go around, and then find another avenue. It's just a general roadmap, but it's good for me to understand where I think I'm going.
Gosh, what a great skill! Can you explain how you become clear on what you want to say?
I don’t always know exactly what I’m trying to say until I’m in the process. For instance, several years ago my car caught on fire and I pitched an essay based on that to an anthology. When I sat down to write it, it wasn’t coming together emotionally and I realized I was being swayed by the outline I wrote for her anthology, but really the piece was really about something else. So the outline that I did just didn't work.
That makes a lot of sense. You write about yourself so honestly. Not just your vulnerabilities or times you were treated unfairly, but also times you didn’t treat someone as kindly as you later wish you did. Any tricks for rendering yourself so openly on the page?
I think we're all deeply flawed. Many people say they live with no regrets, but I have plenty—many from things I’ve said or done to others. I appreciate when people show their flaws because then you don't feel like you're some odd monster walking through the universe who's just doing awful things.
I also appreciate that forgiveness doesn't mean that there's reconciliation, either for something that I have done, or for something that somebody has done to me. So all we can do is say “okay” and honor that person’s desire to move forward. It's important that we that we write honestly about ourselves, and about others.
Do you ever find it hard to do that?
Yes, absolutely all the time. Like anyone, I want to be seen as good and kind. We’re taught to not go out looking wrinkled and to be polite; we’re taught to have this mask. It’s difficult to break that. I don’t’ want to be looked at as someone awful.
I told my daughter, “write your memoir.” One of my friends said, “Doesn't that scare you?” And I said, “It petrifies me.” I was a deeply flawed mother. I can think of so many things that I did that people would go, “Oh my God, you did that!”
But at the same time, I was a young, depressed, undocumented single parent. At twenty-four, I had to figure out what do I do with this creature that wants to be fed three times a day, have their diaper changed, and have a roof over their head. So I made it up as I was going along.
But I want her to be true to her reality. I might beat her to the punch and write about it from my perspective. But my perspective will not be any cleaner than hers.
People see us, my daughter and me, and think we have this ideal relationship. They don’t realize the work we’ve both put into it. Our bond isn’t because I was the perfect mother or she the perfect daughter. It’s important to show all of ourselves so others know it’s possible to have fulfilling outcomes, despite mistakes along the way.
For various reasons, you’ve taken breaks from writing, and then had to reenter the publishing world. I think many writers can relate to this. Do you have tips on finding your way back in?
I’m fifty-seven now, and I’ve been writing since my teens. I even sent letters to Random House Incorporated at fourteen, saying, “Hi, I’m a great writer; you want to publish my work!”
When I got my first book deal in my twenties, it was encouraging. Then everything that happened after that was devastating. I had this entire career that I was supposed to do. But I was living at the poverty line—as a single mother, a chronically depressed person, and as an undocumented immigrant. My friends who didn't have kids until later or who didn't have the issues that I have, they had the career that I wanted. They’d gone Bread Loaf. They'd gone to Bellagio. They'd done this. They'd done that.
I was a single mom. I couldn't leave. Back then, a lot of those places didn’t allow children. It was a creation versus procreation issue: if you had a child that pretty much meant, “No.” I had no help at all. I did a lot of ghostwriting, which was soul crushing work, but because of my circumstances, my options were pretty limited. The money was very good. I don't regret doing it. Every article, every ghostwriting, every proposal I wrote, I can tell you exactly what bill it paid. But you write this thing and the reviews are great. Everybody's like, “It's so amazing!” But if you write the same amazing thing and put your name on it, suddenly they can't pimp it as a product.
You know why? Because they go for the low hanging fruit: this person is on this TV show or has done this record or whatever. Why not simply say: this person is a good writer. How about if we sell it on that?
I was bitter for a long time about that piece of things. The part of it where I agreed to do the job, and I got paid, and I was able to educate my child and buy property, I have no bitterness. I'm not really an envious person, because usually what somebody has, you can't just remove one component, it's part of a whole. And the whole thing never appeals to me. So many of these people are my colleagues and friends, what they went through to get that one book written, I don't want that journey. My path is my path.
It's been humbling starting out so young and then resuming at a point where you’re past all the “40 under 40.” Where you’re an “older writer.” It’s been humbling meeting younger writers. Although it’s also been a real pleasure because I’m learning so much and I have so much respect. Nowadays, I don’t see the age, as much.
It is interesting to see how we deal with the same subjects and how it seems like we're not moving forward in some ways. But that's reflected also in our political culture and our social culture where we're still dealing with one woman saying that her kids keep her humble, and another woman is childless, so she has nothing to keep her humble. It’s like, “we're really having this conversation?” I remember when I was in my teens reading that Tillie Olson story, “I Stand Here Ironing.”
I feel like all of that is sometimes a bit discouraging. If you want better for the world, then why keep telling the same stories again and again and again?
I hear you. So many Beyond readers are writers. Do you have any writing prompts you find especially helpful for your own process or with students?
I don’t have a specific writing prompt of my own, but I do love a good timed writing. My workshop participants are always amazed at how much they can write in ten minutes. If you’re writing by hand, never lift the pen; if you’re typing, keep your fingers moving, even if you write “blah blah blah.” In my workshops, people have written pieces that became their most significant chapters. I use this technique myself whenever I feel stuck.
You just set a timer for ten minutes and go?
Exactly. I don’t stop typing until it’s done. It can clear out mental clutter, or sometimes from the very start, something amazing comes out.
Another prompt I love came from a workshop I took with Lidia Yuknavitch. She had us write “A Brief but Detailed History of My [Body Part].” I thought, “This will be easy. I’ll write about my brain.” But the next thing I knew, I wrote a brief but detailed history of my uterus.
It was ten-minute writing session, and all this stuff poured out. Afterwards, I put it away, thinking “I'm never touching that again.” Then, when Lidia was working on an anthology about menopause, I submitted it, and now it’s a piece in her book titled The Big M.
That’s a really helpful prompt because each part of our body does have a story to tell; we hold so much emotion in different parts of our bodies.
What a beautiful place to end! Thanks, Nana-Ama!
⭐️⭐️ Beyond is a reader-supported publication with the goal of bringing as much light as possible into this world of ours. If you value this work and would like to support it, consider becoming a paid subscriber. Thank you!⭐️⭐️
If you enjoyed this Craft Advice with Nana-Ama Danquah, you might also enjoy this one with Leslie Stephens:
Great interview!! I had not heard of this writer and now I’m incredibly intrigued. Thank you for sharing this. (Also, am I the only reader positively DROOLING over her BOOKSHELVES???!!??!!?!! 🩷🩷🩷🩷 📚)
This was wonderful. Thank you so much. I love “fight for the life of your work.” And the reminder of how magical a timed freewrite can be.