From Memory to Memoir

How Memory Becomes Fiction

In the twenty-five-plus years since the journey that took me around the world and about which I am now writing a memoir, I have taken shards of memory of that time and transplanted them into countless stories and poems. Bits and pieces of memories have found their way into notebooks and writing practice sessions too numerous to count. Bones of memory have had added onto them what didn’t happen but might have. Characters who were never part of the actual journey appear as if they were part of the scene.

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One of those days …

Saturday. One of those days I can’t settle down. I’m up and down like a yo-yo, (she said, employing possibly the most trite cliche of the day, and aren’t “trite” and “cliche” redundant?) And now I’m editing as I write. No wonder nothing is getting done today. Except a few loads of laundry which is always my go-to when I’m restless at the keyboard or on the page.

WildWomen_cvr_fAnd then there is the bowlful of Chex Mix snacks I devoured while researching custom-made blank books on the Internet. (I want to create a special blank book for use with my new book, Wild Women, Wild Voices; one that readers/writers can use to keep their Journey Notes as they work through the Explorations in the book. Oh! I hope they love it.) I also tweeted, asking journal writers and writing practitioners which they prefer: lined or unlined; wire-bound or perfect bound for their blank books. (Which do you prefer?)

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