New Ideas for a New Group: Memoir

As you know from last week, I’ve been thinking about writing a memoir for some time, maybe putting some of my mom’s memories in my collection of stories.

This morning Ann Dee and I sort of chatted about starting a group that gets together and shares bits of memoirs we have written.

If we do this, we can share some insight on what we learn, here, as we go.

So here’s a definition from dic.com:

Mem-oir    [mem-wahr, -wawr] Show IPA

noun

1.

a record of events written by a person having intimate knowledge of them and based on personal observation.

2.

Usually, memoirs.

a.

an account of one’s personal life and experiences; autobiography.

b.

the published record of the proceedings of a group or organization, as of a learned society.

3.

a biography or biographical sketch.

Origin:
1560–70;  < French mémoire  < Latin memoria

Synonyms
2a. journal, recollections, reminiscences.

While we can’t all be in a group together–you know–meeting physically–we CAN focus on memoir here, twice a month, with writing exercises and etc.

What do you think?

Would you like to play?

Let’s Start with Some Good Reading

Here are some good memoirs, just for the fun of it.

Of course, we have to go with Stephen King’s memoir and book on the craft of writing called On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

I love this book! It’s smart and funny and revealing. And it teaches good writing, too.

A Girl Named Zippy: Growing up Small in Mooreland, Indiana by Haven Kimmel

My friend Lance Larsen (keynote at Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers [www.wifyr.com]–this keynote is open to the world, free of charge. Come to it. Lance is a great writer and will give us some terrific pointers on writing like  poet.) told me for years to read Zippy. One day at a garage sale I saw a copy of the memoir for .75 and I couldn’t believe it. That is SO MUCH for me to spend on a book. But I remembered Lance telling me to read Zippy. So I circled the memoir (laying on a blanket–the book, not me) and finally decided since Lance said I should, I would buy and then read this. I did. It’s great! Well worth .75 (though I wish I could have gotten the book for a half dollar instead.)

Angela’s Ashes by  Frank McCourt. I loved just about everything about this book. I loved the voice, the way McCourt puts the words on the page, how he paints a picture. I didn’t love the end of the book, but that is just me.

So, if you wanted to play the memoir game with us, I would start with these three titles. And I know Ann Dee has HER favorite books. She may share.

Many of you know that I am a Latter-day Saint. For those interested, here is a quote by Elder B. Henry Eyring. He’s talking about writing a journal or a memoir. He says, “My point is to urge you to find ways to recognize and remember God’s kindness. It will build our testimonies.” (http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2007/10/o-remember-remember?lang=eng)

It seems when I have sunk as low as I can go, when I tell Heavenly Father, “I am done!” He answers me.

If I write a memoir, it will be for the spiritual times, and the funny times and the heart-breaking times.

For me.

For my girls.

My girls always tell me to be happy. And I try.

Maybe a memoir will help them understand me more.

For sure, a memoir will help me understand me more.

And maybe it will help me become a better writer.

And that’s a good goal.

Three Things Thursday

So now we are thinking of:

1. maybe meeting every other week and writing memoirs together.

BUT

guess what?

YOU wouldn’t have to write on a memoir.

YOU could write on your novel.

All this has to happen AFTER the conference (www.wifyr.com). By then I HAVE to be settled or I can’t do it. But let’s pretend I find a place soon, move in, prepare for the conference and etc.

 

2. I am getting ready (at 10 am–in just a few minutes) to try something I am not sure will work.

But if you would all think good thoughts, pray, chant, whatever you do for others.

I need this concentrated effort because I am getting ready to do something I have never done before.

It has to do with praying, and praying that I can get a home, and it’s sort of selfish.

I can’t explain more–but it has to do with my dream home.

 

3. JULY WARNING

I know July is a month of parties, hot weather, resting from Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers, traveling and etc. But I think we will be ready for our next marathon when that month rolls around.

Not sure yet if we will take the month, a week, a few days or what. But I am letting you know now.

So mark July.

Cross out the 4 and 24 (if you are in Utah).

Start thinking of your goals. How will you work around family travels? What do you most want to accomplish?

We’ll be writing together. And, I think, reading together.

🙂

 

And to end, here’s an interview all about me by a fellow VCFA graduate, Ginger Johnson, who is very cute, a great writer and a terrific dancer.

http://quirkandquill.com/

Memories

No one sent any of their writing exercises in, so there is no need to share.

I wonder, should we even try these anymore?

(Shrug)

 

I happened upon a very interesting thing as I wrote my speech for the Outstanding Achievement Award that was given to me by LDS Storymakers.

(By the way, this honor blew my mind. I never expected it. There are many, many people who could win this. Many great people who have won–like Rick Walton–last year.)

So, while I was writing what I would say (because you know in advance about this) I figured out why I write for kids.

The truth is, I have a very 12-yr-old voice.

I remember parts of when I was twelve.

And, while I won’t share it here, when I was writing this acceptance speech I knew the MOMENT I became twelve forever.

 

How the world was upside down because two important people in my life  were both so ill. Both in hospitals. One in Orlando. One in Daytona. We lived in Longwood, right in the middle between these two hospitals that were more than 56 miles apart.

My family and I would drive back and forth, after I got out of school, nearly every day to see these loved ones.

 

I must have been tired.

Because one day my best friend Vickie Finlay said, “You shouldn’t be going every day. This isn’t something a kid should be doing.”

I can’t remember what classroom we were sitting in. But she turned around in her seat to tell me that. “Carol. Only your mom should be doing that.”

 

Have any of you ever felt like writing a memoir?

I know my dear friend Claudia Mills has. In fact she has an amazing first line that makes you laugh and feel sorrow at the same time. She is a terrific writer.

Anyway, some days, I think, ‘Should I tell my story? Do I make it official? Do I have enough memories? Do I want those memories coming back?’

I’m not sure.

Plus, there is this fact: I know my truth seeps out and into my writing.

Do I need anything more?

 

Here’s another thing: The Olivers–that line Nanny came from–could hold a grudge forever.

I have tried to not do that because I mostly love people, but there have been a few individuals, a handful, that I have gotten angry with and kept the fury-flame a-burning because that person–who probably never thinks about me–deserves my fury. For example, the woman who has caused me so much grief these past two months.

I should be angry with her!

I have no place to live!

And she’s the kind of person who would walk around Macey’s grocery store in her wedding dress and not buy anything. (I know this for a fact.)

(PS I have decided to stay angry a little longer. I will let this go when I am no longer panicked about  where we will go. I will stop my Southern Turnip Curse when all my stuff has been safely placed in my forever home. I will quit telling others what I hope happens to this woman once we move to a good place. I promise!)

 

That said

these grudges aren’t so great.

One of my family members hasn’t spoken to me–really spoken to me–in more than sixteen years.

And now her children, who meant the world to me–haven’t spoken to me in several years. Not one of them.

I am missing out on their lives.

Yes, this story, bits of it will wind up in books.

But.

 

I think of how Ann Dee adores her mom.

That’s the way life should be.

 

I guess what I am saying is, even more important than all the books I have published or all the awards–and I have been very, very proud of these things–is who I am on the inside and my children. In the end, no books will circle my deathbed. Only my children and their families will. The Chosen One will not kiss me goodbye. Carolina Autumn will not hold my hand. Waiting will not tell me to “Go toward the light.”

Only my girls will.

Plus maybe my best friends (I have a few).

This will be my reward.

 

So I must do better. At all of it.

(Except the couple of grudge holding bits)