We recently had a situation where an article was submitted to our blog, and I gave it ' an edit. "
Firstly, let me be clear: I am not a journalist and I have no formal education in writing, save for 8 years of learning the hard way in the school of hard knocks. I look back on some of my earlier posts and shudder - as Dad would have said " What was she thinking? "
Sure, I have done on line courses in writing, and I have tried to hone my craft. But it was experience and comment feedback that was my greatest teacher.
The first thing I learned was that there is a difference between writing historical pieces, current affairs and nostalgia.
Nostalgia is the hardest, yet strangely enough, the easiest if you just let it flow. Maybe that is true in all writing, but in nostalgia, it is much more important in my opinion.
There is an old saying among writers that readers can smell dishonesty long before they can explain it. Not sure who said it but it was not me. Or Maybe it was.
I think the same is true of nostalgia.....
Most of us know instantly when a memory feels real. We can hear the creak of old timber, smell the rain on hot ground, feel the scratch of sunburnt grass on bare feet or the soft touch of a baby's little fingers.
Yet we also recognise when nostalgia has been polished until it becomes performance rather than remembrance.
That distinction matters.
Recently I read two versions of the same childhood memory. Both described a small Australian backyard in the 1950s - a weatherboard house, a chook yard, an outdoor dunny, warm eggs collected at dusk, and a father explaining the infinite universe to his son while Sputnik crossed the night sky.
The first version was simple.
It trusted the details.
The second version tried much harder. to be witty. Every paragraph strained to sound real. The chickens became “feathery little villains.” The stars became “endless starry soup.” The Night Soil Man carried away “unspeakable treasures.” It was clever, energetic and imaginative - yet strangely, it felt less real.
Why?
Because authentic nostalgia rarely announces itself.
Real memory lives in ordinary things:
- the smell of old dogs,
- the warmth of eggs fresh from the nesting box,
- candlelight flickering in a backyard toilet,
- a father sitting quietly beside his son on wooden backsteps.
Those details carry emotional truth without needing decoration.
Writers sometimes make the mistake of believing nostalgia requires sentimentality. In reality, the strongest nostalgic writing is usually restrained. It observes rather than performs. It allows readers to discover their own emotions instead of instructing them how to feel.
A simple sentence such as:
“The simple wooden backstep felt like the centre of all creation.” has enormous power precisely because it is understated.
The reader fills in the feeling.
When every sentence strains to be charming or somehow cute, the writing can begin to sound self-conscious. After a while, the reader stops inhabiting the memory and starts noticing the writer.
That is the great paradox of nostalgic writing: the harder a writer pushes emotion, the more fragile the illusion becomes.
The memories that stay with us are rarely dramatic. They are small moments made large by time:
- a dog leaning against your leg,
- the smell of dinner drifting from the kitchen,
- the creak of timber beneath your father’s boots,
- the first time someone explained infinity beneath a Southern sky.
Nostalgia is not really about longing for the past.
It is longing for presence.
For slowness. For wonder. For the feeling that the world was immense and mysterious and somehow safe all at once.
I am not sure what is wrong with Frankie's fingers but it could be something to do with an attempted bank heist years ago......
Good nostalgic writing does not beg readers to feel sentimental.
Our memories are powerful enough that they do not need embellishment....
- trust the memory,
- trust the simplicity,
- trust the reader.
Most writers spend years learning that lesson. I know I did.
Nostalgia simply opens an old screen door and quietly invites us back inside.
I hope you enjoy the next episode of Frankie's adventures. Coming soon...
Monty
https://patriotrealm.com/4535-from-weet-bix-to-wanted-my-toddler-bank-heist-on-a-cyclops-trike
https://patriotrealm.com/4566-from-trike-to-tail-wags-frankies-world
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