Remember the Pickled Onions by Emily Owen

Last weekend, I was at the ACW Day about Writing Memoir, in Leeds. The afternoon contained two workshops, one on ‘Focus in Writing’ and one on ‘Perspective in Writing’.
I was facilitating the latter, and I enlisted none other than Peppa Pig herself to help me out. More on that later.

I began by talking about the importance in memoir – as in other genres – of remembering that the same situation can be viewed differently, depending on where one is within it.

As an example, I told of a time in hospital following an operation, when I was struggling to drink through a straw, due to damage the surgery had caused to my facial nerve. My sister, who was visiting me at the time, stood beside my bed, and stared at me. I thought the whole tortuous situation I was experiencing must have looked so horrific that she couldn’t look away. I later found out that she'd thought nothing of the sort: she’d been interested to know whether it was actually possible for me to use a straw, hence her scrutiny.

Enter Peppa!

Everyone in the workshop group was invited to write the above scene from the perspective of a different character depicted in it. But not just as Peppa or George (the two pigs). Some wrote the scene from the perspective of the shopping trolley, or the book, or the conveyer belt at the till….
In the main, people volunteered for their ‘character’. 
A particular highlight was the alacrity with which one man shot his hand up when I asked who would like to be Peppa. (He’s now the only person in the world to own a copy of my book signed to ‘AKA Peppa’ – what an accolade.)

I wish I had space to include the pieces of writing here, they were wonderful.
I don't, though. And I didn't think to ask for copies anyway.
But right now, in notebooks around the country, the above ‘Peppa Scene’ is proof that perspective makes a difference.

Who but the conveyer belt would have thought it odd to be dealing with pigs which had two eyes on one side of their faces? Who but the trolley would have known that the trolley was fed up with carrying George around? Who but George would have known that he was wishing he could have a different book for a change?

As we went round the group, each person reading their piece, there was fun, and laughter, and emotion.
Did you know it’s possible to feel sorry for handwash? Or cry over the third lemon in the bottom of a shopping basket? Or laugh about the ordeals of a shopping till?

One person declined to read. At the end, I asked her whether or not she’d like to read her piece now. She did and, in agreeing to do so, she hit the ‘importance of perspective’ nail on the head.
“Yes, I’ll read mine aloud, because I don't want the pickled onions to be missed out."

Because I don’t want the pickled onions to be missed out.

The pickled onions in the above picture might be easily missed – my finger is pointing to them, just to help you out – but they are part of the scene.  Part of what's happening. Part of the story.

In no way would I presume to tell any writer that they are finished, but I do believe observation and perspective have a vital role to play in writing. 

So notice the detail. 
Don't miss anything.
What's the detail saying?
What perspective does it bring?
Keep looking.
What is every detail contributing to the whole?

Remember the pickled onions....