I had purchased it second hand and was surprised to find that this copy was signed by the author 😊
I liked this book but I was simultaneously bored by it. Writing Hard Stories is a collection of essays based off of interviews with memoirists who have done just that, written hard stories. Stories mostly of loss and grief.
It’s well written and the interviews are informative and inspiring but… While all of the authors have their own unique voices, the things that are said all amount to pretty much the same thing. The upside of this and the thing that makes me glad that I read it, despite the tedium, is that in speaking of their process. Not their writing process exactly but the way that these books came to be, well, books. Their struggles. Their confusion over what story it is that they are telling and how to best tell it. Their feelings throughout. These things are all reflected in my own journey.
In reading this book, I’ve come to the conclusion that everything that I’m stressing about while trying to bring my book to life, is the process. This is how books like mine come to exist. I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. I am right on time. My journey is coming together perfectly.
I just finished reading The Kiss by Kathryn Harrison. It feels uncomfortable to critique a memoir for anything past the writing itself. Having an opinion on the story feels a bit bizarre, I mean, it’s someone’s lived experience but… Here we are.
For as much as I fear people, man do I love the beautifully complex creatures that we are. I really liked this book. This story could be easily dismissed for the perverse nature of the story (and affair between a father and adult daughter) and it seems there were quite a few people trying to do just that when it was first published but that isn’t how I see it. All I see is how vulnerable are our psyches. How vulnerable we are emotionally. How rich and vibrantly complex our lives, even in the messy, the moments that we and most definitely society would consider failings.
I know many criticized the author for publishing this story. Called her attention seeking, creepy and implied that what was most definitely abuse was not because of her age at the time of the affair. I can only see the sharing of her story as brave and necessary, really. Things like this persist because we keep them hidden. The book should make you feel uncomfortable, hopefully uncomfortable enough to not look the other way in the face of abuse in and around you own life.
I just finished reading Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. If you don’t already know, as a makeshift crash course on memoir writing, I have been reading memoir almost exclusively. Every list of recommended memoirs includes Crying in H Mart, like every damn list. So… I read it. I have mixed feelings.
The book is well written. Much of the prose quite beautiful and though the timeline in nonlinear, it didn’t feel confusing to me in the slightest. That said, I really didn’t like it. Like it was ok. It was fine. Not how I want to feel after reading a memoir… I want my heart ripped out of my chest. I want it to hurt in the best way and then… Then I want the wound to be dressed and cared for, gently. I want to feel made whole again by words alone. I want inspiration. And I didn’t get that here. For me, I feel like the description of outside events, environment, what have you, far outweighed internal experience and quite frankly, I was bored.
I’ve come to realize that I may have different taste than the average reader and/or whoever the readers are that decide that a book is so good and deserves all the praise. This isn’t the first highly recommended memoir that I’ve felt this way about. It always comes down to the same thing. I am so much more interested in the writer’s internal experience, the description of their thoughts and emotions than I am the outside world. I have to be able to relate to the author and I have to be able to relate emotionally.
I don’t know why any of this is surprising to me. This is absolutely the reason that I consume media, whether it be books, movies/shows or music. Unless I am in it to learn, which is also huge for me (I need to know all the things, ALL THE THINGS), I’m basically using it to process my emotions. I have difficulty with identifying my own emotions. I’m very good at seeing them in others but myself, well, it’s s struggle. I need someone outside of myself to trigger these emotions so that I can feel and process them fully.
This post is definitely not a dis on Crying in H Mart or Michelle Zauner’s writing. It is a well written book. If you enjoy books that are highly descriptive of the environment, this may be for you, especially if you like descriptions of food or foreign cultures. If you’re like me and are more interested in the internal, maybe not (in maybe a third of the book there is more emotional description), maybe then you’d like the book I just read (Unbearable Lightness by Portia de Rossi) or the one I’m reading currently (Girl in Need of a Tourniquet by Merri Lisa Johnso) more 🤷
Anyway, this has me thinking about writing and my memoir. I’ve heard over and over that most writers new to memoir struggle with the whole show don’t tell thing but that that is easy to learn. That the real struggle tends to be understanding that when you are writing your memoir, you aren’t just talking about yourself, you are making a connection with a wider theme. You are using your story as an example of some wisdom that you attempting to impart. It isn’t about you, it’s about the lesson.
I think that may be backward for me. I may struggle with the former much more then the latter. The general point of my public writing is to use my life, my story, my struggles to help others feel less alone. I definitely use it for my own processing but I do so by connecting my experience to larger societal themes, right? I feel like that kind of comes naturally to be but description of things outside of myself… that may be a struggle for me.
Like I said, it doesn’t interest me. If I’m being completely honest, at times I just skim the outside description. It feels like unnecessary filler and it bores me. Given that much of my life had been lived inside of my head, that makes sense. What about you? How do you feel about description in writing? Do you prefer description of the scenery? The action? Or are you similar to me and prefer the internal landscape? Maybe both are equally important for you? I’m genuinely curious. Please drop a comment and let me know.
I watched the movie The Hate U Give. I woke up the next morning with these weird I running through my mind…
To those who have walked before me I carry your pain in my heart Your tears staining my face Alongside my own For all those who have lost their voice Had their voice stripped Existence dismantled To become the emptiness The nothingness We speak We shout We cry out in agony We cry out Let us be heard For all of those with no voice I shall learn to use my own
Kelly encourages writers to develop several “hooks” for their book. A hook being a short , attention-grabbingstatement that describes the essence of your book and entices readers to want to learn more. She then suggests asking any followers you may have their opinion. So, here we go… Which of these do you like best? Which book would you be mostly likely to read? Is their one that stands out? None? A combination of two or more? Please let me know and again, please honesty and kindness.
Growing up as an undiagnosed autistic woman, trapped in a world of addiction, self-harm, and codependency, living as though invisible and misunderstood. This raw, unflinching memoir reveals my battle to survive, break free from the glass, and finally be seen for who I truly am.
Growing up as an undiagnosed autistic woman, fighting through addiction, self-harm, and codependency, all while feeling invisible in a world that doesn’t understand. This searing memoir is the story of my struggle to survive, break free from the glass, and reclaim life on my own terms.
How not knowing I’m autistic caused me to live a life disconnected from myself and my journey back home.
The author recalls a life of invisibility as an undiagnosed autistic woman and the events that led to her finally learning to live life on her own terms
A memoir of a life of invisibility and how my children, the one I have and the one I almost had, lead to my autism diagnosis and self acceptance.
I’m only about a third of the way through but so far, I’m finding it helpful. I’ve started working on my first memoir. I have actually written something, not much but something. I still didn’t have a full grasp on what I’m writing. I’ve got the gist but I’m still struggling with the structure and what I want to include. To help, I’ve been reading only writing books and memoirs. I’m using them like a class of sorts.
Anyway, The Book you were Born to Write…Kelly includes exercises that have nothing to do with the actual writing but more of the motivation to write, and getting clearer on your vision. She suggests that you make a mock cover for you book so that you have something tangible to hold in your hands. I don’t have the means to have one actually printed out but I did decide to make one so that I can visualize my book as well, a book. I’d like to know your opinions. Keep in mind that’s it’s really basic (I made it in Google photos in a very short amount of time). Please, if you give your opinion, be honest but also kind. Thank you ❤️
This end I sought An illusion The space once occupied Purged and Empty Vacuous Like an open wound Lifeblood Dripping from my body Body Raw and open Pulsing Blood Pulsing Truth Pulsing Proof How do I always end up with blood on the wall? How will I live with this blood on my walls?
My sleep has been restless. I fall asleep, mind clear, but clearly my subconscious is obsessed with my writing a memoir. It seems that until I know the details of what I’m writing, the theme, the structure, my mind will not stop trying to figure that out.
Originally, I though I wanted to write an autism memoir. I’m not so sure that I do. Every memoir that I’ve read on autism is information heavy. You know, diagnostic criteria, facts and statistics and what not. I don’t think that’s the book I’m writing.
I’ve always imagined my book to be more, hmm, emotional. I’ve lived many lives. Most spent grappling with my own internal experience. I feel like that’s my book.
I’m not sure exactly and that’s the problem, it seems. Any memoir that I write will be an autism memoir. There are no stories that belong to me that are without autism. There is no me without autism. It’s not like some parts of myself that are singular in their existence in my life. It is my brain. Autism is the whole of me, but… I don’t think this is an “autism memoir”. If not that, if I don’t have that structure to hold onto, then what?
I was thinking about writers and how it’s easier to publish a book if you already have an audience, and the need to support those that you enjoy and that brought me to the realization that I totally forgot to do a review for Paige Layle’s book, But Everyone Feels this Way. I read it quite awhile ago, so I don’t really remember the specifics but I do remember what I wanted to say.
If you are unfamiliar with Paige, she makes content on social media speaking about autism. I like Paige. I have from the first video of her’s that I came across. She does , however, have a way of sometimes coming across as if her opinion is THE truth. I find that irksome at times but…. I like her. I find her content relatable and entertaining.
That said, after reading her book, I like her even more. Reading her story helped me to reframe some of what I found off-putting. This is definitely one of my favorite memoirs about autism.
Autism presents in such a wide variety of ways… If you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person, so it’s hard to say whether or not anyone else would feel the same way that I do. I think the memoirs people tend to like best are the ones they most relate to but… Other than Drama Queen… This is my favorite.
So, here’s me showing support for Paige. I highly recommend it.
