Memoirous

I just finished up a 6-week course through Story Studio Chicago designed to help participants to get off their butt. Yup! When I looked over the offerings at the end of 2021, after finishing the novel-in-a-year course with James Klise I started to think: What next? I’ve done just about everything—except an MFA. Conferences Workshops Critique groups Book festivals Pitch Wars All meant to keep me writing, engaged in the process, and hopefully, open up networking opportunities. Yes and no. The odds at Las Vegas craps tables are better than someone breaking into the writing world. Meaning: can make a living from writing their novels, short stories, etc. Most writers I know have to at least supplement their writing by taking on editing, teaching, freelance projects. Some become writing coaches—again, a side-hustle. And, why not parlay a bit of name recognition into a niche business? It’s become standard practice. Sheree our instructor did an excellent job. She teaches a fe...

I just received my first fan mail from a blog reader! To say I was confused was an understatement. Yet OVERJOYED at the same time. I had to think—who do I know in Maine? I host quite a few travelers through couchsurfing—who did I recently meet who was traveling onto Maine (in the winter!)? No one. Then I turned the card over and read the words “I love your blog.” I think Lynne might be referring to some posts I put up a few weeks back that encouraged readers to sit down and write a postcard. Often the bigger picture can be overwhelming. Sometimes we need to trick ourselves into writing. All we have to do is fill this one tiny space.  Lately I’ve been talking about Fifty-Word Stories (bite size fiction everyday). The back of a postcard is perfect for limiting yourself to 50 words. The front of the card can actually serve as inspiration. If the idea of story is overwhelming—(how can one have a beginning, middle and end when working with only 50 words???)—try th...

Imagine a time before Thai. Before bureks, pierogis, pho. That was me growing up in the 60s and 70s in the land of meat and mashed potatoes. I think the most exotic thing I ate before age 23 was pizza. Americanized pizza. Since coming to Chicago in 1982 my palate has experienced a food revolution. Down the street from me is a gyro joint and then down the block is the best Thai food ever—Siam Noodle. Once when trying to decide with local friends where to eat I began to talk up my favorite noodle place—of course, there are hundreds here in Chicago—and the person on the other end of the phone equally advocated for theirs. Come to find out we were talking about the same restaurant. We have here in Uptown one of the BEST Ethiopian restaurants. Eating Ethiopian is an experience on par with transcendence. This weekend I visited the Lebanese Bakery a bike ride away in Andersonville. They sell the cheapest lamb and potato pies (also the spinach and feta are out of this world) for le...

Nostalgia always seems to have an overlay, a gloss, of sentimentality. nostalgia confers a longing, a wistfulness for time past. There are two tensions that come with nostalgia--perhaps, more--and often we occupy both of these tensions at once --too bad we didn't know then what we know now OR --I'm so glad I didn't know then what I know now. Like the difference between stained glass and white washed walls, both hold a certain aesthetic. For now, what was (nostalgia) and what could be (hope) feels absolutely unknowable. AND FOR AN UPLIFTING LOVE STORY=click below https://soundcloud.com/wbez/storycorps-after-grief-an

I am having the hardest time imaginable getting started this morning (now afternoon), this Monday before Thanksgiving break, this snowy day in the frigid cold, cold that has arrived way too early in the season with temperatures hovering in the low 20s! I have things to do, but all I really want is to drink tea and stay warm. Even crossing the street to my office (I know I have it easy compared to some people) paralyzes me with numb hands and cheeks, my eyes constantly watering from the wind-driven snow. Can’t wait to have time off!! Yesterday I attended and participated in Chicago Book Expo—a fancy name for a pop-up book venue. It was VERY well attended and had top-rate speakers (take it from me; I was one of them!). I’ve already blogged about Aleksandar Hemon. So today I will mention Samuel Park. His book, This Burns My Heart , he said was based upon life experiences of his mother. In particular a story she often told about getting her hair and nails done the day ...

  Sarah Polley’s latest movie (I loved Away From Her , Julie Christie was transcendent!) is right up the Memoirous alley. One one level it is a young woman’s exploration of her own creation myth while on another level it is about how a talented director chooses to edit—what to leave in and what to take out of the story of her own life. The film is a mirror with many facets. It is also smoke and mirror—as a viewer we’re not sure what is real. Sort of in the same boat as Polley as she proceeded with this endlessly puzzling project. Once again truth is a mystery and memory is only one part of the whole. At one point in the film, toward the end, when we think (as a viewer) all of it has been told, there are no more revelations, her brother asks into the camera: What is this movie about? And Polley stumbles for a succinct answer. “It is about memory and how we tell the story of our life.” She goes on to relate that she chose to focus on the discrepancies, where each charact...