I love this line--it's so true: "Sifting through memory, excavating the long-buried fragments and putting them together like those dinosaur bones wired into a whole creature that may turn out to be a fantasy beast compiled from several real ones." I recently wrote an essay and fact checked it with my daughter who said, that didn't happen. Take it out. So I did, though I think the essay is less salty and spicy for it. Is that why I remember certain events as they happened? Because it makes a better story? Hyperbole, perhaps? The fish was this big? I should go into fiction, and often I do! As for the book review, yes, another TBR.
Map of a Heart is a gorgeous book that made me think: how much can one person withstand? Apparently a lot: Jacque’s strength and ability to create connection shines through.
Fyi, Cleaver and Colorado Review are actively looking for book reviews.
Thank you for mentioning my interview. The book is good. And I also totally agree about memory - I just posted an essay on my ew substack (HA) and my husband already took issue with something I said - that really wasn't really important to the story anyway. But yes, we all have our version of events. Lovely to see you at AWP.
Isn't memory a fascinating trickster? My sister has claimed my memories as her own, and I have memories that are pure invention. I think I remember seeing Allen Ginsberg read at a Human Be-in in Central Park back in 1966. But the friends who were with me are dead and Google has me doubting myself.
My sister had memories that I believe were figments of her imagination. I could not have done those things she claimed to recall. I refuse to believe any of it. I stand by my innocence.
Memory - a fickle thing sometimes (often). The other day, a friend and I both realized that we had each told a story about a particular women's conference from back in the 1980s so often that we both believed we had been there ourselves. Turns out, the archive and the conference dates prove that neither of us could possibly have been there. But, man, I can almost *feel* the memory of that conference I didn't attend!
I love that you showcased Jaque's book. I enjoyed it, too. The image of her in the hospital waiting room, cradling her infant son, being told her husband may not live... That will stay with me for a long time.
As for memories--my son says of my memoir, in part about him--"That's your story, Mom. It's not my story."
This is so very relatable. It happens all the time. We remember things differently. I wrote about my oldest daughter and my Memoir. She edited it for me. Then we decided she will have to to tell her own version. As my version is true for me.
Thank you for a beautiful post and recommendation.
I love this line--it's so true: "Sifting through memory, excavating the long-buried fragments and putting them together like those dinosaur bones wired into a whole creature that may turn out to be a fantasy beast compiled from several real ones." I recently wrote an essay and fact checked it with my daughter who said, that didn't happen. Take it out. So I did, though I think the essay is less salty and spicy for it. Is that why I remember certain events as they happened? Because it makes a better story? Hyperbole, perhaps? The fish was this big? I should go into fiction, and often I do! As for the book review, yes, another TBR.
Great questions, Polly. Make it fiction? I've been thinking along the same lines.
Map of a Heart is a gorgeous book that made me think: how much can one person withstand? Apparently a lot: Jacque’s strength and ability to create connection shines through.
Fyi, Cleaver and Colorado Review are actively looking for book reviews.
Thank you for mentioning my interview. The book is good. And I also totally agree about memory - I just posted an essay on my ew substack (HA) and my husband already took issue with something I said - that really wasn't really important to the story anyway. But yes, we all have our version of events. Lovely to see you at AWP.
Isn't memory a fascinating trickster? My sister has claimed my memories as her own, and I have memories that are pure invention. I think I remember seeing Allen Ginsberg read at a Human Be-in in Central Park back in 1966. But the friends who were with me are dead and Google has me doubting myself.
My sister had memories that I believe were figments of her imagination. I could not have done those things she claimed to recall. I refuse to believe any of it. I stand by my innocence.
Memory - a fickle thing sometimes (often). The other day, a friend and I both realized that we had each told a story about a particular women's conference from back in the 1980s so often that we both believed we had been there ourselves. Turns out, the archive and the conference dates prove that neither of us could possibly have been there. But, man, I can almost *feel* the memory of that conference I didn't attend!
Wonderful! So you both got to attend the conference for free.
Thanks for the recommendation. Ordering it from the library now!
I loved Jacque’s memoir. Really evoked memories of being a family member waiting anxiously for a loved one’s recovery in an ICU and so much more.
I love that you showcased Jaque's book. I enjoyed it, too. The image of her in the hospital waiting room, cradling her infant son, being told her husband may not live... That will stay with me for a long time.
As for memories--my son says of my memoir, in part about him--"That's your story, Mom. It's not my story."
Loved A Map of a Heart and how it dropped you squarely into your own memories...the best that memoir can offer.
Hi Eileen,
This is so very relatable. It happens all the time. We remember things differently. I wrote about my oldest daughter and my Memoir. She edited it for me. Then we decided she will have to to tell her own version. As my version is true for me.
Thank you for a beautiful post and recommendation.
I love how you tell stories.
sweet Sugar!
I love reading memoirs and reviews of memoirs.