in defense of memoir
When I was young, I seized the rare times when my dad jested with me. During playful moments, he’d utter “Put up your dukes,” taking a boxer’s sideways stance when confronting me. I didn’t consider this original, reasoning he stole the line from an old John Wayne movie. I didn’t need any movie to show me how to put up my dukes; I was smart enough to figure out “dukes” was your fists and “putting up” was to bend my elbows. Putting up my dukes to my dad was fun [...]
en route to publication
As a memoir writer for over fifteen years, the word “memoir,” has become ingrained in my thoughts and actions. The word or any form of it draws my attention like a magnet, urging me to record the captured reflections and takeaways. The journey to my completed memoir, Under the Birch Tree, to be published next year, is a result of tuning into all things memoir. My learning process continues as I study cover designs, back cover copy, and blurbs of other memoirs to make mine as best it can be. [...]
there once was an autobiography . . .
I had an autobiography. I wanted a memoir. After years of chronicling my life experiences from girlhood to teens to adulthood, I had an autobiography. However, “One’s autobiography does not a memoir make!” I proclaimed in my essay, “I Called You a Memoir” published in the Magic of Memoir. I shared what I most remembered from my girlhood–white anklet socked feet fitting snuggly in red Mary Janes, wearing a navy dress, patterned in tiny white polka dots with an appliqué of paint brushes and an artist’s palette in primary colors [...]
Deep Roots
A terrific post where "Under the Birch Tree" meets "Deep Roots" re-blogged from www.tuesdayswithlaurie.com
home is in the air
Smoke hung like humidity on a sultry summer afternoon. The cloudy air wasn’t from a barbecue, a nearby chimney, or landscaper stirring the dry earth. The puffs appeared to billow, grow larger then shrink, dance in circles, twirl in unison. It was as if they were full of breath giving life to a kaleidoscope of memories from long ago. The demolition began as soon as the sun had risen high enough to cast light on the site. Showing its age of sixty-five years, the small two story wood and brick [...]
how i won my first writing contest
The first time I entered a writing contest I won. A win says it all, a handshake in welcome, validation for a job well done and self-confidence to tackle another challenge. Writers who enter a writing contest submit their best work with the optimistic chance they could win, securing a welcome, confirmation and boost in confidence. I admire a writer’s committed practice and track record for contest participation but my interchangeable excuses with procrastination–I can’t meet the deadline, I’m not going to win anyway, my writing is not good enough, [...]
on being unmindful
One would think someone who claims a writing journey of almost 20 years had learned a thing or two. I’m not quite convinced. Sure, when I was fifteen I wrote a poem about a tree and finding security with it, how I grow in tandem with the tree’s growth and how I discovered spirituality among all things nature. I also considered a tree to be like home. Thoughts of my young girl self were abstract, but I now discovered through my memoir writing journey how my conceptual considerations had evolved [...]