In Hanson's essay,
the reader is immediately pulled into the surreal world of a migraine
headache sufferer. The vivid opening scene describes a hallucinatory
experience even Timothy Leary would envy: "We're driving
through South Dakota when I see the tall grass on the side of the road
turn liquid. Then the plains come alive: They breathe and relax,
breathe and relax. We could be in a boat on a golden ocean for
all the dipping and swaying. After a while, the horizon flickers
and sends up a filmy light. The air itself is viscous, moved by
wind, distorting the landscape."
Hanson's primary
concern was to convey truth: "Not just having a fidelity
to facts, but truth in the sense that you take an experience and boil
it down to an essence. I tried to take that three-dimensional,
bizarre feeling of getting a headache and put it down on lifeless paper
so that someone else could experience it."
Above all, Hanson
considers herself a fiction writer. In fact, "The Lightning
in My Eyes" was her first attempt at essay writing, a piece that
began as an assignment in a writers' group she attends regularly. "I
really believe that if you can write good fiction, you can write good
creative nonfiction. Good writing is good writing. Each
genre, however, comes with its own set of demands and challenges.
Fiction can be more difficult in the beginning; one must call upon their
imagination, take the dust off their desk and turn it into people and
places." In comparison, Hanson, a self-proclaimed "information
junkie", found the initial work on this essay to be an easier task.
She read everything she could get her hands on about migraines. Afterwards
though, she was faced with whittling down reams and reams of notes.
During revision, the first several drafts were unwieldy. "I
had this huge temptation to put in everything." With much
difficulty and much heartbreak, Hanson pared down her findings, killing
off her darlings, as Faulkner put it.
This first foray
into creative nonfiction was a process of self-discovery for Hanson.
"I'd been having a lot of migraines, and had been thinking about
how they were affecting my consciousness and personality. Joan
Didion says, "I write to find out what I think." That's what
writing this essay was like for me."
Hanson's interest
in the art of language is evident in her prose: "I press
my index finger to my thumb, but my digits move through each other like
gelatin, tingling." Part of Hanson's technique for coming
up with potent sentences ties into a Mantra that pervades her writing
life: Write, write, write. Then cut, cut, cut. "Why bother
if it's just going to sit there on the page? "In undergraduate
school, Hanson studied with Raymond Carter, who offered this advice
about short stories: "Get in, get out, don't linger,"
a maxim that's been immortalized above Hanson's computer.
Hanson a voracious
reader, poses the question, "How can you write without reading?"
Oftentimes, the voice of someone she's been reading crops up in her
work. "Through the process of revision, I get rid of any
artifacts of someone else's voice. But I think it's good to absorb all
that [other writing styles] and really turn it into your own voice."
During the interview
I told Hanson, "Having read this essay, I really feel like I know
what it's like to have a migraine."
"So, you
could say I gave you a headache," she quipped.
Exactly.
Stephanie Susnjara
