About writing memoir

by tamarjacobson

Quote of the day:

Scratch. Write about a time you itched.
It could be physical or metaphorical. Go. Ten minutes
. (Page 50)

Students come and go. Eventually we will
all die. I fear I will have forgotten to die. I’ll be standing in front of the
class after everyone I know has long passed. “Class, please get out your pens.”
Please help me. If all of you write right now, maybe I can let go and die too.
My job will be complete
.
(Page 69)

What are you going to do? Walk around with
masking tape over your mouth? You have to speak. That’s why you put the pen in
your hand to begin with: in order to not blank out or turn your back. You have
to be willing to go into the hot, steamy center, to go to the mat for sorrow,
grief, concern, in order to shed light on what has been in shadow.

You might also be holding that pen to
discover things that you did not know how to say. And you don’t always know,
you can’t be sure what someone’s response will be. You can’t write in
anticipation or worry. But, yes, people will not always applaud you
. (Page 33)

Snip-bits from: Natalie Goldberg
(2007). Old Friend From Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir

Thanks to ainelivia's
suggestion,
during my recent travels I have been reading about memoir writing. And, as a result, Goldberg has me thinking that the time has come for me to acknowledge my love of writing – to own it – and, perhaps, even, attend one of her writing retreats.

What?

Could this be a commitment?