For a long time, I’ve thought about writing memoir. Not autobiography, which is mainly an act of chronology (this happened, then that happened, then this happened), but memoir, which is more about finding meaning and universal truth in what has happened.
Several things have held me back. First, I’ve never been comfortable writing in the first-person, but that has started to change since I started writing my blog.
Second, memoirs–at least the famous ones–seem to always be about deep personal trauma that I have been blessed to have never experienced: rape, incest, child abuse, horrible parents. Not part of my life. My life has been blessedly boring.
But as painful (and, I hope, cathartic) as it must be to write about trauma, I wonder about the meaning found in an ordinary life. A life of Catholic schools, big public colleges, stable families, steady employment. A life, in short, of privilege. Maybe because such a life is more typical (or maybe not?), the meaning found in it might be applicable to more people, and thus worth exploring.
I don’t know; this is just something I’ve started to think seriously about undertaking. I would be interested in your thoughts in the Comments section below. And while you’re at it, you can check the box to get email notification of Write Fox Blog posts.
Tim, ordinary is very extraordinary these days. I would love to read more about your life. I definitely think you should “let it be easy” and write what’s in your heart. I believe it will inspire those who read it!
For quite some time now, I’ve wanted to write about my mom — primarily, the complicated relationship we had. And I think that perhaps the best way for me to do that is through fiction. But then I think that there are thousands of books, short stories, etc. based on the mother/daughter relationship — what makes me think that mine would be anything special? Maybe because it is MINE.
So, write away, Tim, I say! If for no other reason than it might help you gain perspective. And if others read it and find it enlightening/inspiring/enjoyable/funny/touching, etc. — so much the better!
Thanks so much for your thoughts, Latriece and Margie! You’ve inspired me to pursue this quest of memory and meaning. Margie, I think about writing about my mom a lot … I think I’m getting there, but she’d be woven into a lot of it, too. Latriece, I agree–the ordinary is extraordinary. I hope to find out just how extraordinary, and if I can convey that, then hurray!
Tim, I’ve been thinking the same thing, then making up excuses not to. Why is it so easy to encourage others in self-expression, then discourage ourselves? The way I’ve been thinking lately is if it’s in my nature to do it and I desire to do it and think it would be useful, even if just for me, then write!
Couldn’t agree more, Sheila! It’s kind of how I think about exercise–I never regret doing it, but I always regret not doing it–so I should just do it! So why don’t I?!?!?!? It’s the eternal question!
Tim, I think you should go for it! (and you too, Sheila!) You both have a gift for expressing yourselves effectively and creatively. I’ve occasionally thought of doing this myself, but find it hard to make/take the time for the amount of introspection required. The busyness of everyday life gets in the way of reflective time. Many of us have led extraordinarily ordinary lives, but still the memories are worth sharing.
Thanks Kathy! The busyness is part of the living. A lot of my writing happens on the margins–in doctors’ waiting rooms, outside Kate’s ballet class, in coffee shops between appointments. Sometimes it doesn’t happen, but sometimes it does. It’s all part of the process; the waiting, the discovering!
It’s good that your writing sometimes happens during otherwise wasted time; that’s like a bonus for having to wait. Many of my more reflective thoughts seem to occur while swimming laps. By the time I get out of the water, I can no longer remember whatever I thought was so profound just a few minutes earlier!