Who do I write about?
I write about the people in my life, and the relationships and lifetimes they comprise—the obvious family members, mother and father, grandmother and uncles, siblings and offspring—and ensuing additions— suitors and lovers, husbands and ex’s, friends and foes. Prying open the wormy can, I write it all; from their caring compassion and loyal love to defensive denial and unfaithful deceit. As nature and nurture ebbed and flowed, their influence and effect created me.
I hope I do them justice, whether it makes them proud, or squirm. I didn’t live their lives; they made choices like me, myself and I. I’ve walked many miles alongside their shoes; I’m not unbiased in the jury sideline. When brutally honest, the good with the bad equals truth.
Sometimes I pen about these people in independent essays or stories, as you’ll see in my Journal; they’re cohesively essential in my biographical memoir, A Life in the Years of Her Mind. Focused on my closest childhood friend, Frances, everyone has a role, whether life thrust them on me, or I willingly chose. These people, my characters, equally shaped much of Frances; who I was, became and am ultimately shaped who she was, became and is no more.
It’s hard to wrap understanding around, and messier to write. Her life was eccentric and traumatic, passionate and depressing; but she taught me the most important thing I know: don’t simply survive, THRIVE!
By entwining our lives, Frances’ and mine— with who I write about, the characters— everyone’s essential place comes into focus within the bigger picture. As heir to her countless journals, I choose to make something virtuous of the mess by sharing with you.
Like Pandora’s box, within messy lives, hope remains.