Learn from this short passage

by British writer, Christie Watson

Photo by me

This passage can teach you a lot about how to write a personal story.

It’s from a memoir I’m nearly done reading: The Language of Kindness: A Nurse’s Story by Christie Watson.

The book, a bestseller from 2018, is described as an “astonishing, heartwarming account of a profession defined by acts of care, compassion and kindness.”

The description is spot-on.

But let’s look at the passage, where Christie tells us about a time she was a student nurse caring for a patient who had just had liver surgery.

Just read it.

Do you like the way it flows, what it conveys, and how it’s written?

Here it is:

The patient I am looking after is post-liver surgery, and I learn very quickly that liver-disease patients bleed in a way you cannot imagine. It’s harrowing and I’m outside my comfort zone, but the nurses are totally relaxed.

‘Too relaxed,' I think to myself, as one of them flicks through an Argos catalogue, and another orders a takeaway during our night shift. I take a higher moral ground, stay with my patient all evening and refuse the snacks they pass around. What kind of place is this?

It is with horror that I notice blood patterning my patient’s charts all over them. I wipe it off, and call over the nurse in charge.

‘Somebody has left blood here,’ I say. ‘Imagine if a relative had seen it!’

She looks down, then smiles. ‘Oh, that's not blood. That's Viennetta. Our lead consultant was eating a Viennetta during ward round, and it fell out of his mouth.’

I stand for many seconds, simply unable to speak. Of course I don't know it then, but that Viennetta-eater goes on to become my partner, and the father of my children.

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This isn’t a complete story, but it includes everything a well-crafted personal story needs to include.

Here’s my analysis

First bit:

The patient I am looking after is post-liver surgery, and I learn very quickly that liver-disease patients bleed in a way you cannot imagine. It’s harrowing and I’m outside my comfort zone, but the nurses are totally relaxed.

The stakes are high here. Very high. The author raises them by telling us 3 things:

1. She’s out of her comfort zone.

2. She’s witnessing something harrowing.

3. Her patient bleeds “in a way you cannot imagine.”

This critical situation is in stark contrast with how lightheartedly the other nurses are responding to it.

I don’t know about you, but I want to know what will happen next.

• Will Christie be able to deal with this uncomfortable situation?

• Is she right in being too worried or is she overreacting?

• What about her colleagues? Are they underestimating the danger of the situation?

• Will the patient die?

If we don’t read on, we’ll never know.

Second bit:

‘Too relaxed,' I think to myself, as one of them flicks through an Argos catalogue, and another orders a takeaway during our night shift. I take a higher moral ground, stay with my patient all evening and refuse the snacks they pass around. What kind of place is this?

Common writing advice suggests you should show, not tell. You can do both — like Christie is doing here.

She first tells her colleagues are relaxed and then includes great details to show the feeling:

• Flicking through a catalogue

• Ordering a takeaway during a night shift

• Passing snacks around

Telling alone would be way less powerful than telling + showing.

Christie does both skillfully.

Third bit:

It is with horror that I notice blood patterning my patient's charts all over them. I wipe it off, and call over the nurse in charge.

‘Somebody has left blood here,’ I say. ‘Imagine if a relative had seen it!’

She looks down, then smiles. ‘Oh, that's not blood. That’s Viennetta. Our lead consultant was eating a Viennetta during ward round, and it fell out of his mouth.’

I love how the first sentence starts:

It is with horror that…

“Horror” is a strong word that keeps my eyes moving from left to right to discover what’s so horrifying.

Then, that feeling of horror stands in contrast to the nurse’s smile and the consultant’s absurd behavior.

The result?

Humor.

I also loved that the author used dialogue to make the scene come alive.

Last bit:

I stand for many seconds, simply unable to speak. Of course I don't know it then, but that Viennetta-eater goes on to become my partner, and the father of my children.

The first sentence shows, and the next one includes a detail you’d never see coming, not in a million years.

Surprise — that’s what any reader in the world would want.

---

In 186 words, Christie Watson includes:

• Stakes

• Humor

• Effective dialogue

• Showing / telling techniques

• Surprise

An American president you might love or hate would say that Watson “did a tremendous job.” 🤩

What about form and style?

Simple sentences. Simple language. I also like that she uses “very quickly” and “totally relaxed.”

“Very” and “totally” are two adverbs that many editors, authors, and expert writing instructors would tell you to either cut or replace with stronger words.

Why?

Because these adverbs usually add little meaning.

• very quickly = immediately

• totally relaxed (the argument being that you’re either relaxed or not)

“The adverb is not your friend,” says Stephen King in On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft.

Sure.

But writing is an art.

Writing is about taste.

Writing is personal.

No fixed rules exist.

Listen to everyone and learn from as many great authors as you can.

Then do things your way.

That’s how you’ll develop your own style and writing voice.

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I’m inviting Christie Watson on my podcast / YouTube channel to talk about writing memoirs.

I hope she’ll say yes! 🤞🏻

Speak soon,

Fabio

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