How to Make End-of-Life Planning Less Stressful

— One tip: Do it over chocolate cake.

By Jancee Dunn

I recently hosted a strange family gathering: an end-of-life lunch.

It was my sister Dinah’s idea. She had been saying for months that it was time to discuss my parents’ final wishes while they were both still able to weigh in.

But I kept putting off the conversation. Who wants to think about it, whether it’s your own or the death of someone you care about?

Research shows that fewer than one third of U.S. residents have advanced-care directives, or detailed medical instructions in the event they can’t communicate their own wishes. Without such instructions, loved ones are left to use guesswork, which can be confusing and chaotic.

So I pushed past my reluctance and invited the family over to talk about everything from their positions on resuscitation and funeral plans to who will take their cats. I even tried to make things festive by ordering pizza and baking a chocolate cake.

I learned things about my family that I never knew: My mom and dad don’t want a memorial service. (“We don’t like big gatherings, whether we’re alive or dead,” my mom explained.) My sister Heather, meanwhile, wants hers to be held at Starbucks. (A Starbucks rep said that while this was “definitely a unique inquiry that we don’t get across our desks often,” they declined to comment further.)

Our lunch was occasionally weird — my dad once read that your “cremains” can be pressed into a working vinyl record, and he briefly floated the idea — but the gathering wasn’t as sad or awkward as I imagined it would be. Instead, it was a relief to chat openly about my folks’ end-of-life wishes instead of repeatedly stashing them away.

If you’ve been putting off these discussions, here’s how to get started.

Schedule a conversation.

First, ask your relatives if they’d be open to a family meeting — in person or on Zoom — and then set a date.

If you need a conversational starter, Mirnova Ceide, an associate professor of geriatric psychiatry and geriatrics at Albert Einstein College of Medicine, suggested bringing up a news story about dementia. “You can say, ‘This got me thinking about how important it is for us to talk about these issues now,’” she said.

If you are the older relative, consider initiating the family meeting yourself, Alua Arthur, an end-of-life doula and the author of the upcoming book “Briefly Perfectly Human,” suggested.

It might feel uncomfortable to broach the subject, she explained, but you can think of getting your affairs in order as a posthumous gift to your family.

You are sparing them a scenario “where they are in the midst of tremendous grief, and then they’re also trying to figure out what to do with all your stuff and where to find your passwords and everything else,” Arthur said.

Prepare a checklist.

Create a document that the whole family can access, and assemble a checklist of topics and prompts to go over, Dr. Ceide said. A good source for questions, she said, is the end-of-life guidelines from the National Institute on Aging.

The two vital things to discuss in the initial meeting, Dr. Ceide said, are who will serve as a health care proxy, acting as your stand-in for health care decisions, and what directives should be in your living will.

“We cannot exert control over the timing and nature of our death,” Diane Meier, a professor of geriatrics and palliative medicine at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, added. “You cannot anticipate exactly what the circumstances will be. So the most important thing to do is to identify someone you trust to speak for you if you are unable to speak for yourself when decisions need to be made.”

The institute also has a list of ways to create advance directives for little or no cost. (And Medicare covers advance care planning as part of your yearly wellness visit.)

Once you decide on your health care proxy and draft a living will, you can make it official by completing a durable power of attorney for health care, a legal document that names your health care proxy. Then distribute copies to your doctor, loved ones and, if you have one, a lawyer. (A lawyer is helpful but not required, according to the institute.)

Get reflective.

Our family had a long talk about how my parents wanted to spend their remaining years. Arthur, the doula, suggested asking: What is still undone in your life? “Because that helps you figure out where you want to place your time and energy,” she said.

We went over the things our parents still wanted to do, and how we could make them happen. My parents said they hoped to travel locally a bit more. My dad wants to attend his 65th high school reunion in Michigan (“at my age, they do it every five years”). Dinah, my sister, said she would accompany him.

Another helpful resource is the Stanford Letter Project, a free website that offers tools and templates for writing a “last letter,” a personal message of gratitude, forgiveness or regret to share with the people you love.

Consider regular check-ins.

End-of-life care is likely too big a topic to resolve in one meeting, Dr. Ceide said. She encourages families to have a regular conference call to check in.

Doing this can help you get on the same page so you’re all aware of, and planning for, issues like getting a ramp for your parents’ house, Dr. Ceide explained. You’re able to address “little things as they come so that when the bigger issues happen, you already have an infrastructure and a comfort with communicating together about these things.”

After our meeting, my father asked me to pack up a piece of chocolate cake to take home. “After all this death talk, I should probably seize the day,” he said.

Complete Article HERE!

Irish committee to recommend laws for assisted dying

— Proposed legislation would allow people help with ending their lives under certain medical conditions

The legislation would require two doctors to sign off on a person’s incurable and life-threatening condition.

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An all-party parliamentary committee in Ireland is to recommend that legislation be introduced to allow for assisted dying if a person has a terminal illness or has only a short time to live.

A majority on the Oireachtas committee on assisted dying supported the proposal that the law be changed to allow someone to get assistance to end their life if they have between six and 12 months to live.

The legislation would apply to people who have been diagnosed with an illness or a medical condition that is “incurable, irreversible, progressive” and at an advanced stage that will cause death within six months.

It is expected that the time limit for those with a neurodegenerative condition would be extended to 12 months.

The committee’s report is to be published on 20 March but has now been agreed by a majority of representatives from all sides of the Irish parliament. After its publication it will go to government for further consideration.

It is unclear whether the three-party coalition government led by Leo Varadkar is prepared to introduce legislation to enact the recommendation before a general election expected this autumn.

If it does, Ireland will join other countries including Switzerland, Belgium, Canada and the Netherlands in allowing assisted dying under certain circumstances.

It is understood that the proposed Irish legislation would require two doctors to sign off on a person’s incurable and life-threatening condition.

At hearings representatives of the Christian churches and a Muslim cleric voiced their opposition to the legislation, saying it was morally wrong to kill someone and was against God’s will.

Some psychiatrists also argued it could lead to “a slippery slope” with increasing numbers seeking to end their lives.

But the committee’s recommendation has been welcomed by the chair of the advocacy group End of Life Ireland.

Janie Lazar said: “We’ve been working hard to get people talking about assisted dying and about the choices that should be available to those who have no time to wait or waste.”

Constitutional law experts say they are confident that the committee’s recommendation would not require a referendum but a simple law change.

Nathan Stilwell, assisted dying campaigner for Humanists UK, welcomed the “bold move”, comparing it favourably with the debate in Britain where a report by MPs last month did not recommend a vote on the issue.

“Well done to the Irish special Oireachtas committee on assisted dying for taking an evidence-based and compassionate approach. It’s brilliant to see such a bold move after just a week ago a Westminster committee did not vote for any change in the law,” said Stilwell.

Complete Article HERE!

Death doulas

— Helping people at the end of their life

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You may have heard of a birth doula – someone who provides non-medical support and advocacy throughout pregnancy, birth and after the baby has been born. More recently, so-called death doulas – people who assist at the other end of the lifespan – have been growing in popularity.

The role of death doulas is still relatively new, so the terminology and definitions of what they are based on what they do are in flux. They are sometimes referred to as an end-of-life doula, soul midwife, death coach, dying guide, death midwife and palliative care doula. The actual term used is often down to the preference of the practitioner and how they define their work, as well as cultural norms within the country they work in.

Death doulas are known to work in Brazil, Canada, the Czech Republic, Germany, Ireland, Italy, Japan, New Zealand, Russia, the UK and the US. They tend to provide support to people with life-limiting or terminal illnesses, focusing on improving both the quality of life and the quality of death someone experiences. This can include helping with funeral plans, talking about the processes involved around death, or helping someone with their care appointments.

Sometimes, the doula’s contribution is simply about being next to the person and providing company.

The work of a death doula can extend beyond the dying person. They can provide emotional and social support to family, friends and even neighbours – typically the informal carers and social network surrounding the dying person.

Doulas help those close to the dying person with the impending loss (so-called anticipatory grief). Some also carry out errands and chores to enable them to spend time with the dying person. They may also continue to visit those people after the death to support them as they grieve. Crucially, death doulas can enhance the links between professionals and the social support around a person by helping with communications and advocacy work.

Filling the gap

With healthcare systems and informal carers typically stretched beyond capacity, death doulas can provide a means to fill the gap and provide personalised attention. Someone can access doula support either privately or, depending on the doula, through voluntary means.

My colleagues and I recently examined how end-of-life doulas can be provided by the NHS. It noted that the flexibility of the services doulas can provide was not only helpful for the dying person but also for the wider healthcare system. It helped people who may otherwise not receive support due to service gaps, strict referral criteria, or lack of social support.

Beyond supporting individuals, some death doulas see community engagement as core to their role. They are keen to share information about the dying process and grief with others. They may host workshops or death cafes. Across this work, their contributions are to normalise talking about death, dying and loss in society.

Anyone can become a death doula, and it is not currently a regulated profession. There is a wide range of doula training available internationally, including online, provided either by individual doulas or by organisations such as Living Well Dying Well.

People at a death cafe
Death cafes give people the space to talk about the ultimate taboo.

Personal experience

In addition to their doula training, doulas bring their own professional and personal experience to the role. International research on death doulas has noted that many who have become death doulas have a background in professional healthcare, social care or education, and may already have some experience with death.

Those who have trained to be a death doula can be eligible to join a community of practice. Within the UK, End of Life Doula UK is a membership organisation for doulas, setting standards for doula practice and representing doulas. Similar organisations exist globally, including the International End of Life Doula Association.

Death doulas are not a replacement for specialist palliative care and cannot prescribe drugs. Their role is to support people in having a good death.

The growing demand for death doulas is one example of how society is questioning what a good death can be and how to make it happen. Other examples include discussions about assisted dying and improving death literacy. Rather than consider death a societal taboo, there is a growing recognition that people want to value the end of life and reshape how it is experienced.

Death doulas can play a pivotal role in supporting a dying person and those around them. Their support can be emotional and practical, often bridging the gaps in existing support or helping to signpost to relevant services. Not everyone may want a doula, but those who do may see it as someone who can guide them through a significant life process.

Complete Article HERE!

“I’m not afraid of dying…

But I’m not ready to give in yet”

Lisa Brassington spoke with us in October as she was receiving support from Marie Curie Hospice, Bradford. Here she talks about how the kindness of Marie Curie staff made all the difference to her wellbeing.

By Lisa Brassington

I was diagnosed with a brain tumour in 2011. I’ve had years of radiotherapy and chemotherapy, but I’m on the very last chemo now. After that, there are no more treatment options. The tumour has started to spread to my temporal lobe, so it’s affecting different areas of my body and I’m paralysed down one side. I now need a lot of support.

I used to go to the gym three times a week and I loved food and cooking. I love reading and history. I fostered and rescued Bassett hounds. I had a Bassett hound called Ralph who I walked daily, but I had to give him up. A fantastic rescue charity found him a beautiful home and they keep me updated on his progress. I’ll never be able to have another dog. That breaks my heart.

Before coming to Marie Curie Hospice, Bradford, I’d been stuck in my bedroom at home for over eight months. My husband and I had been looking for care that whole time and couldn’t find anywhere that could support my needs. I felt so unsafe and frightened. Eventually, we found the hospice, and now I feel so safe, cared for, and even loved.

Nothing better than a hug

The Marie Curie Hospice in Bradford is fantastic and it had such an impact on my outlook. It’s not just the unbelievable care they give, it’s their kindness as well. I’ve never experienced kindness like it here, and I’ll never forget that. The staff are always smiling, and I get hugs and lots of care and attention. There’s nothing more important to me than a hug.

Before I arrived, I hadn’t eaten for a long time, so I had no energy, but the food here is delicious and the nurses encourage me to eat. Now everybody is saying I’ve got colour in my cheeks – it’s amazing.

The nurses offered to take my bed outside

There’s a lovely bath here that I can use, and I have a beautiful view of the garden outside of my room, I can watch the squirrels and birds feeding on the bird table. The nurses even offered to take my hospice bed outside if I wanted them to. Because of my condition, I wake up and I don’t know what day it is. I’ve been FaceTiming friends and family thinking it was the evening, but it’s actually been the morning. The nurses write down on a board what day it is and who is supporting me, which is so simple but so helpful for me.

When I first arrived, I told the staff that I love dark, West Indian rum. They told me I can have some here, and so I have my little rum nightcap, which is lovely. Nothing is off limits.
— Lisa

The healthcare assistants and nurses always find time to come and charge my electrical devices, which keep me in touch with family and friends. They’re constantly busy helping people, I can hear their buzzers going off all the time calling them into different rooms, but they still find time to come and charge my things for me and spend some time with me.

A sense of achievement

The hospice has got a fantastic physiotherapist team who have helped me to use the gym. I’ve even taken four steps, which is amazing. It’s not just the sense of achievement for me, it’s the feedback the team gives. I constantly get praised and encouraged. I never realised how important encouragement was until I came here. They have given me some exercises, and I do what I can to try to get my body working.

We’re all dying… I’m one of them

I’ve had a fantastic life, I’ve done everything I’ve wanted to do, I’ve been everywhere I wanted to go. I’m now doing my bucket list. I’ve jumped out of aeroplanes, I’ve gone down to the Spinnaker Tower, I just love doing something different. I’d love to go on a zip-wire, in fact I had a joke with the team here about the hoist in my room!

It was frightening when I first heard the word “hospice” because I just thought of dying people. There’s nothing wrong with dying people, we’re all dying, but it scared me to realise that I’m actually one of them. Now, I’m not afraid of dying. In fact, sometimes, I think it’s going to be a release. But, I’ve always been a fighter and I’m not ready to give in yet.

Complete Article HERE!

Planning for end-of-life expenses amid soaring costs

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In the realm of financial planning, agents and advisors diligently guide their clients through the complexities of retirement savings, investments, and insurance. Yet, there’s a critical aspect that often doesn’t receive the attention it warrants until it’s too late: the cost of dying. Recent data reveals a stark reality: The price tag attached to end-of-life care and funeral expenses is climbing, propelled by inflation and escalating health care costs. Let’s look at the implications of these rising costs and outline strategies financial professionals can employ to assist their clients in preparing for the future.

The unavoidable cost of dying

The Consumer Price Index indicates a notable 4.8% increase in funeral costs over the past year, signifying the upward trajectory of end-of-life expenses. An average American now faces more than $24,000 in medical and funeral costs at life’s end. Specifically, end-of-life medical expenses average more than $16,000, while the median funeral cost nears $8,000. These figures highlight an uncomfortable truth: even in death, one cannot escape the financial implications of inflation.

Deepening funeral costs

The average funeral in the U.S. costs between $7,000 and $12,000, encompassing expenses from caskets and embalming to transportation, plots, flowers, services, headstones and funeral home fees. Opting for more elaborate services or higher-end options can significantly inflate these costs. This financial burden is not one most individuals wish to impose on their relatives posthumously.

The true ‘killer:’ Medical care costs

Although funeral expenses are steep, the cost of medical care in the final stages of life is even more daunting. Medicare provides some relief but hospital, palliative care and hospice care costs continue to surge. Hospital stays can exceed $10,000 per day before insurance. Despite a preference for dying at home, only about 25% of individuals do so, with the majority ending their lives in some form of medical care facility.

Planning for estate and legal considerations

Beyond medical and funeral costs, there are estate and legal fees to consider. The process of settling an estate and distributing inheritances involves a complex web of legalities, adding another layer of expense that can easily propel total end-of-life costs beyond $50,000.\

Strategic planning for end-of-life expenses

  • Savings and investments. One approach is for clients to allocate a portion of their savings or investments specifically for end-of-life expenses. This proactive measure can mitigate the financial impact on loved ones.
    • Insurance solutions. Life insurance or specialized end-of-life insurance products can offer a safety net for funeral and other final expenses. However, seniors may face high premiums, and those with existing life insurance policies may be overinsured if they plan to use these funds solely for funeral costs.
    • Life insurance settlements. For seniors facing steep life insurance premiums or those with more insurance coverage than necessary, a life insurance settlement presents a viable option. Selling their policy in the secondary market can provide them with a lump sum to cover end-of-life expenses, freeing them from the burden of escalating premiums.

    The role of agents and advisors

    Financial professionals play a pivotal role in navigating these complex waters. By conducting policy appraisals, advisors can determine whether a life insurance settlement is appropriate, potentially reallocating those funds toward long-term care insurance or directly covering end-of-life expenses. This strategic planning can alleviate the financial strain on clients and their families, ensuring a more manageable and dignified end-of-life experience.

    As the costs associated with end-of-life care continue to rise, agents and advisors are tasked with a crucial responsibility: to help their clients plan comprehensively, considering not only the joys of retirement but also the inevitable costs of dying. By exploring all available options, from savings and investments to insurance products and life insurance settlements, financial professionals can guide their clients toward peace of mind for themselves and their loved ones. Inflation may be an unyielding force, but with thoughtful planning and strategic advice, navigating the financial aspects of end-of-life can be less burdensome, allowing individuals to focus on living their final days with dignity and grace.

    Complete Article HERE!

Human Composting

— A Green Way to Return to the Earth

Human composting turns death into an opportunity to help the planet heal.

A natural burial is good for the planet and lets you be reborn as a part of nature

By HONORAH BROZIO

When someone dies, they can be put in the ground or an urn — but many are unaware that there is an alternative that returns the body to the earth in a natural way. Instead of traditional burial or cremation, there is human composting, which honors the natural cycle of life and creates a memorial specific to our loved ones without harming the earth.

Human composting is a simple process that lays the body on a bed of wood chips, alfalfa and straw. The body decomposes and turns into fresh usable soil in five to seven weeks. According to the human composting facility, Recompose, one human turns into about one truck bed of soil which can be used for a garden, tree or even spread among a forest.

Why is human composting better than traditional embalming or cremation practices? It is important to consider the average postmortem process. One day a man named Body dies. Body hangs out with the mortician who pumps him full of embalming fluids, drains his blood, removes his organs and creates a chemically preserved thing that is not natural, not human and definitely not Body.

When I think about modern death practices I wonder, why do we ignore death when we can embrace it?

The work involved in the embalming process is not natural for a human to experience and it exposes the mortician to harmful chemicals. The National Funeral Directors Association claims that embalmers inhale high levels of formaldehyde and are at risk for coughing, nausea, facial irritation and, in some cases, leukemia.

After the preparation, Body’s family picks out a casket, plans a ceremony, buys enough flowers to start a flower shop and buys a plot of land. So, is it worth it? Is it worth it to expose morticians to harmful chemicals and waste resources for a process that attempts to slow decomposition and maintain a body that is no longer alive?

Modern funeral practices involve cement vaults and caskets in order to preserve our loved ones for as long as possible. We delay the decomposition process for about a decade so that our bodies resemble canned goods in the bottom of a cement bunker. We waste time, thousands of dollars and land all because we want to look at our loved ones and imagine they’re still alive. When I think about modern death practices I wonder, why do we ignore death when we can embrace it?

Human composting is the opposite of traditional burial. With human composting, our bodies replenish the earth, not take from it. The process allows us to be among the trees or a meadow where we will forever contribute to the circle of life.

The possibilities of soil are endless. When I die, I want to become a carrot patch. With human composting, you could be a lemon tree or a tulip garden, and your family could make a garden and sit under the shade of your tree.

You are not a preserved lump at the bottom of a cement vault or a pile of ashes on the mantel. Rather, you would nourish the roots of your favorite plant and your family would be with you, laying under the sun.

Each individual is capable of changing the way we see death. After all, America’s extravagant funeral practices and embalming methods are relatively modern. The Library of Congress associates America’s booming death care industry with the Civil War because families wanted their loved ones preserved and returned from war. Embalming remained popular after the success of President Abraham Lincoln’s embalmed body during his lavish funeral tour. If luxurious funerals and embalming were influenced by societal changes, I believe human composting can reach the same degree of acceptance someday.

Moreover, human composting is crucial to the future of our planet. In 2019, the Population Reference Bureau notes that roughly 3 million Americans died. Typically, more than half of the population chooses cremation and the rest choose traditional burial meaning millions of people harm the earth for funerals on an annual basis.

If luxurious funerals and embalming were influenced by societal changes, I believe human composting can reach the same degree of acceptance someday.

Recompose claimed on their website that: “Cremation burns fossil fuels and emits carbon dioxide … Conventional burial consumes valuable urban land, pollutes the soil, and contributes to climate change through resource-intensive manufacture and transport of caskets, headstones, and grave liners.”

Earth Funeral, a human composting company in New York, shared similar data claiming one cremation produces about 535 pounds of CO2. While cremation saves land resources, it usually involves burning embalmed bodies which releases toxic chemicals into the air.

Unfortunately, human composting is only legal in seven states including Washington state, Colorado, Oregon, Vermont, California, Nevada and New York. Even then, there are only a handful of human composting facilities in the country. Earth Funeral is accessible for people in New York, but if someone from Texas wanted to be composted they would have to transport the body all the way to a different state with a facility. 

The U.S. needs to legalize human composting in all 50 states because everyone should have the option to decay. I find it ridiculous that America’s legal burial options harm the earth but natural decomposition is illegal in 43 states. We’re allowed to be preserved and burned but not returned to the earth. We’re allowed to kill the planet but not help it.

Everyone can help promote human composting. It’s easy to spread awareness by sharing websites such as Recompose or Earth Funeral with your friends and family. Additionally, you can follow Recompose’s legislative tracker, a resource that updates visitors on which states are in the process of legalizing human composting.

By destigmatizing environmentally friendly burial options, we can move away from harmful burial choices and make decomposition a common burial practice. Normalizing human composting starts with the small steps of educating our peers until the knowledge reaches the legislature. Instead of scarring the earth, we can return to it.

Complete Article HERE!

Why I imagined my husband’s death

— What if fiction can alter the real world?

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In my new novel, A Book of Days, a husband is dying slowly. While I was writing it, my own husband died suddenly, with no warning. He died in his sleep, I was told. His children and I hope that is true. He was 400 miles away, and on his own when it happened. The thought of his loneliness, if he was conscious and aware of what was coming, is unbearable, so we do not think of it. Or we try not to. We do know that he was in bed and his window was wide open; before he could hear nothing more, he would have heard the sea breaking on the rocky shore just below the cottage.

Ever since, I’ve been thinking about the lived experience of death. I don’t mean the first-hand testimonies of people who have actually died. If Lazarus told his sisters what it was like to be dead, they did not record it. If Jesus ever described the loneliness of the tomb, his words have been forgotten. No, I mean death as experienced by the living, the survivors.

The experience of death was once far more widely shared. Two hundred years ago, around 15% of babies in Britain died before their first birthdays. “Death borders upon our birth and our cradle stands in the grave”, said a 17th-century bishop of Exeter. Childbirth was dangerous for mothers too. And back then, most people in this country died in their own beds at home, with their families watching. If they did not, if they died on Flanders Fields for instance, their deaths were still not private in the main. But now many people reach adulthood without ever seeing a corpse.

I have seen several corpses, but I did not see the dead body of my husband. For complicated reasons to do with autopsies, transport and distance, neither I nor our children saw him until he was in a sealed coffin in the back of a hearse. I put my hand on his coffin as we filed past it on our way out of the crematorium, but I wish now that I had asked for it to be unsealed. Or that we had gone to the mortuary where he was. If you don’t see that the one you loved is really dead, how can you believe it?

My main feelings when he died were disbelief and a stony sort of shock that left me dry-eyed and clear-headed. And then there were weeks and weeks of paperwork and practicalities that left no space at all to think about my unfinished novel. There was only the haunting fear that by writing a death I had brought a real one into existence. My rational self knew that was not true. Fictions are not premonitions, any more than dreams are. But still.

“There was only the haunting fear that by writing a death I had brought a real one into existence.”

Even when life returned to something close to normal, I could not write the novel. For a while, I thought about writing a memoir instead, a painfully truthful one, about my husband, my grief and anger, and how complicated mourning is. Truth seemed somehow more relevant than fiction; I kept remembering something novelist Rachel Cusk said in an interview: “Once you have suffered sufficiently, the idea of making up John and Jane and having them do things together seems utterly ridiculous.” I made a start on the unvarnished work I had in mind and then abandoned it almost at once. I knew then that I had had more than enough of me.

If I had written and published that memoir, I would have been asking you, the reader, to sympathise with me. Even, perhaps, to identify with my lived experience of grief. Why should you want to do that? My experience is particular but not in any way unique. If, on the other hand, I could write imaginatively enough to transcend the limits of that experience, to widen it, to bring to it the resonances of other lives, other ways of seeing — well, that I felt would be worth doing. I, as the author, would be opening windows for the reader, not beckoning them to follow me into a shuttered room.

Autofiction — fictionalised autobiography that dispenses with the traditional elements of the novel such as character and plot — is arguably the prevailing literary mode of our time. It suits the general demand for self-revelation in life as well as art: in print, on screens, in public, people share the most intimate of details and bare their souls — or seem to. For years, aspiring writers of fiction have been told to “write what you know”, to stick to their own experience and their own boundaries, and by writing their own lives in thin disguise they are demonstrating their obedience to the rule. This is in many ways a good thing. Care must be taken not to trespass clumsily on territories of gender, racial identity, or sexual orientation. But there’s a difference between unacceptable cultural appropriation and creative imagination. That difference can be described as empathy.

However carefully curated, whatever balance it strikes between “truth” and “story”, auto-fiction requires ego. It says: look at me, even though what you see may actually be a mask. And it implicitly assumes a degree of mutual recognition between writer and reader. It’s a mirror, not a clear window. This can often be immensely valuable. But how, then, can a reader step outside their own personal experience, to feel as Keats felt when he first read Homer: “like some watcher of the skies / When a new planet swims into his ken”, breathless with anticipation like Cortez’s men, “silent, upon a peak in Darien”? How, indeed, unless writers can still write of lives beyond their own known and confined realities?

Great writers don’t need lived experience to convey emotion. The psychologist Steven Pinker described an experiment in which people listened to an interview with a heroin addict, who was either a real person or an actor. When the listeners were asked to take the addict’s point of view, they became more sympathetic to addicts in general, even when they knew the interviewee was acting. In other words, they did not need to believe the “addict” was sharing a lived experience in order to empathise. We can see this in William Golding’s astonishing novel, The Inheritors, which takes us into the world of the last Neanderthals and shows us how it feels to be on the wrong side of the cusp of change: disempowered, under threat and fearful. He achieved this masterpiece through an empathetic leap across millennia that owes everything to his brilliance as a writer and his understanding of unchanging human nature, but little to his own experience of life in 20th-century England.

As T.S. Eliot said: “What every poet starts from is his own emotions [but then transmutes] his personal and private agonies into something rich and strange, something universal and impersonal.” To me, that’s a counsel of perfection, the highest of aspirations. My husband’s death caused me great grief, but when eventually I could write that grief upon the page, through voices that were those of imagined people who lived centuries ago, I hope I turned it into something shared, something that could strike chords in hearts other than my own.

Complete Article HERE!