Like a Hole in the Heart

Posted on

An Odd Geography

I felt comfortable calling myself a writer after being published for the second time in a national magazine (the first time, well, that could’ve been a fluke). The piece in question was about enduring a run-in with bed bugs, an event that I noticed activated the ‘writer’ part of my brain – a distancing, observational part that realises what’s happening to me will make for a good story. I write mostly autobiographical stuff, so experience trumps imagination, and when I fret about my place in the memoir landscape, I compare my clutch of life stories to those who have triumphed over greater odds than me. Bed bugs? Try losing your bed down a sink hole.

I watch as memoirs come out about a writer’s fight with <<terminal illness>>, how they grapple with race, deal with a legal system set against them – all of the “journeys” imaginable – and I…

View original post 3,159 more words

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s