Perhaps I’m writing a memoir after all.
I’ve been rereading Writing the Memoir by Judith Barrington and feeling more encouraged to get back into that vein. Either that or I should just plunge the pointy end of my pen into my real vein and just call it a day on this whole writing thing…one or the other.
I’m posting this way later than usual. I think this cold, or whatever this nasty congesting, infecting mess is that I’ve contracted, got the best of me today. The energy levels were low, the nose was nearly blown off and overall I can almost hear the beginning of a whine in my voice that is barely above a whisper. This is NOT good.
There is only one solution on a day that was too full of Kleenex, cough drops and torrential rain. I am making a big mug of Bengal Spice tea with honey and taking the aforementioned book to bed. Enough already.
But isn’t it wonderful that we get to end each day with a big nap and start fresh tomorrow? I love second chances to get it right.
Funny, I just read that book (which I purchased from your Amazon store!) I liked her description of memoir…”Rather than simply telling a story from her life, the memoirist both tells the story and muses upon it, trying to unravel what it means in the life of her current knowledge.” It’s that musing and unraveling that make our individual stories so interesting to others.
I hope you’re feeling better today.
That’s the line Becca. I have been so diligently listening to various feedback that says to ditch that reflective voice, but it’s the one I’m drawn to in other memoirs, so why not my own? I don’t know why I still feel so compelled to have ‘permission’ to write the way I’m inclined toward. But this book says it’s okay, so now (this particular minute anyway) I believe it is. Bring on Freud 🙂