Sunday, January 24, 2010
Is it real, or is it created?
The photographs are real. The action is real. The characters are real. The emotions are real.
So, why is it that writing a memoir feels like writing fiction?
Those of you who have been following my other blog, When I Was Your Age, memoir stories
will notice a certain style that is different from this blog.
It is a trick of the mind, a suspension of time and place similar to writing fiction: Reliving past events of long ago feels like one is seeing a movie, an old black and white, grainy, barely audible, frought with pauses and erasures.
All the pain, and the anxiety and the homesickness and the confusion, all return in good dose. Selecting episodes to portray these emotions without falling in murky waters of self-pity becomes the issue.
You tell yourself: I have to tell the truth!
You tell yourself: This is not interesting to anybody else.
You tell yourself: What if I make somebody mad?
WE tell stories because we must tell them. There is something that needs to come out in plain light.
Your understanding, encouragement and support are dearly appreciated.