Turning memories into unforgettable stories

A 10x boosted writer gives a behind-the-scenes look at one of her most read stories, “Lessons I learned from my osteoarthritis”

In my article on memorable memoirs, I discussed how I initially set out to write a brief story on the workings of nostalgia, only to turn it into a considerably longer 9-minute one. I showed not only how the details added to the authenticity of my piece but also how I kept it relatively focused.

Here, I’m going to focus on the narrative shape of my second boosted story (or rather the second in chronological order of writing).

Writing “Lessons I learned from my Osteoarthritis”

Like the other story “Back to my Future,” I had no intentions of writing a longer one. This one was also written as a response to a prompt for another publication which I had planned to treat with humor. It was going to be about how this fast-walking, stiletto-wearing woman slowed down drastically after the onset of osteoarthritis.

But as I wrote “Lessons,” I began to realize that this was turning into a more serious narrative as I wrote out my humbling experience with osteoarthritis. That’s when I thought to myself, why not send this to a publication with a boost nominator?

I focused on my apparent fall from grace — about having always prided myself on looking “like something out of a magazine.” How I built my identity around being a woman with a flair for fashion — and how I felt like I was losing nearly everything that was me. Losing mobility meant no more heels, no more elegance — and even less attention; it meant feeling desexed and neutered, as though I were 55 going on 86.

I also addressed my fears of attracting more contempt. If it was difficult enough getting positive attention and respect as an able-bodied Asian woman, what would life be like as a handicapped one? And this was on top of the major mobility issues as I struggled with caregiving for my elderly father and carrying out ordinary chores. It felt like an insult to the already significant injury I suffered in the loss of my mother.

In short, this story could easily have been a truly depressing “woe is me” story.

But fortunately, I remembered all the kind people who helped me out when they didn’t owe me anything. All the people who helped me across the street. The people who waited patiently for me. Those who got wheelchairs for me on bad days. For once, I felt blessed with compassion.

The lesson of my story was ultimately that kindness has not been completely eradicated — even as we hear of an increasingly selfish and narcissistic world. That despite our deep political, social, and cultural divisions, there is still empathy and compassion. The willingness to help among people of all colors and political stripes.

I should add that were it not for the great editors at Middle-Pause, I would not have written such an effective conclusion on the compassion of strangers. These lines were initially brief since I considered them self-explanatory.

But when an editor asked me what the point on compassion had to do with the heels and osteoarthritis, that’s when I realized that I needed to expand on that point by adding a few paragraphs. This is why it’s important to heed your editors!

The few lines were expanded into a few paragraphs:

I was now tasting for the first time that “kindness of strangers” mentioned by Tennessee Williams’ Blanche Dubois.

It didn’t matter if this “kindness of strangers” came from Trump or Biden supporters — judging from the occasions that I’ve had political discussions. Whenever I arrived home, I felt a new lightness, thankfulness, and believe it or not, happiness. Not just because I managed to avoid any accidents or suffer inconveniences, but because I learned a deeper lesson.

You see, however much I deplored my condition, I came to realize that the world was not as terrible as I had always pictured it. That humanity had not lost its sense of empathy and compassion in our sorely divided world. There was still patience, support, and caring in abundance. All this felt like a beam of hope amid all of my mobility issues, dissatisfaction with my style, and other inconveniences.

And so I too learned a little more patience, a little more empathy, and a little more compassion. Suddenly, life didn’t seem to be as bleak. It was now worth living as never before.

This story was not only boosted, but wound up as my second best performer in terms of reads.

Why?

Of course, I can only guess since I’m not a reader approaching it for the first time. But what I think worked was the level of emotional detail at the time. Remembering all the things that happened, so as to provide necessary realism. And not least, an unexpected, but uplifting ending — which Medium readers supposedly enjoy. Yes, the world can be a bleak place: we hear of crime, selfishness, greed, and narcissism on a daily basis but there is still much compassion and humanity in the world.

© Frances A. Chiu, February 9, 2024. All Rights Reserved.