In my early years, I grew to know a particular birch tree, planted on the same plot as I was. Its delicate arms played in uncomplicated innocence, inviting me to circle around it. I am reminded of Robert Frost’s reflections of innocence, carefree spirits, and evolving years: I like to think some boy’s been swinging them . . . And they seem not to break; [...]
“And then there was my birch buddy, never failing to wave in the picture window with its branches posing like an umbrella over our reflection, providing peace in the silence and innocence of child and home.” When I was a little girl, I remember sitting on my Dad’s lap in the wingback chair in the living room after dinner. We sat snuggly in [...]
In my memoir, Under the Birch Tree, due out next year, I learn many things about connections. Connections serve a purpose; connections teach. "The light from above told me my connections to home were not limited to my immediate surroundings but extended overhead to high places and beyond. I just needed to look up to the heavens to see a [...]
When we are away from home, we may not always recognize the ways we are reminded of where we came from. In Under the Birch Tree, my memoir due out next year, I connect to home through living in the present moments and recognizing gratitude. When entering a bakeshop, for example, you notice the sweet smelling air but don’t connect it [...]
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 [...]
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 [...]
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 [...]
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 [...]
So why DID I write my memoir? Admittedly, I couldn’t answer the question over 10 years ago when I started writing my memoir. Now I’ve passed a manuscript hurdle, a professional developmental edit, and I’m polishing my book with a copy edit on my way to publishing. But who knew the life of a virginal indie author could be simple [...]
I can understand Genzlinger’s irritability with the memoir genre becoming over-inflated. Memoirs seem to be riding the wave of too much sharing and providing an over-supply of personal information. In Part I from a previous post, I shared Genzlinger’s guidelines to would-be memoirists from his essay, “The Problem with Memoirs,” published in The New York Times. He felt that three [...]