Memoir, Facts, and Info-Dumping
In which we examine how to delve beneath the surface of events
The first full, most complete draft/version of my memoir was 203,000 words. I thought, “Okay, some books are long. It’ll be longer than I anticipated.”
When I got through the first edit to delete the obvious, I landed on 168,000 words. I thought, “Okay, some books are long. It’s much improved, tighter. Maybe it will be successful living about the 100,000 word mark that every agent, editor, and publisher web site said to keep it under. Eggers’ memoir runs 143,000 words. McCourt’s runs 141,000 words. My memoir runs 168,000 words, and covers 11 years. Plus there’s all those notes, a la Eliot’s The Waste Land, and those all important appendices with interesting life documents.
I sat with that a moment, and began cutting all over again.
Now my text sits at about 98,000 words, though the notes section, much slimmer now, tips the memoir over to about 104,000 words.
I stand by it, though the cutting and in-pulling proceeds to this day. Every change makes it better. Of course, if I whittle it down to nothing, I might as well write -
“I had a life, and some things happened, thanks for buying my book!”
So what’s with all the words? And are they all necessary?
In Chapter 13 (On Information, Facts, and Data) in Mary Karr’s The Art of Memoir, she writes:
Most memoirists stand daunted by the first information-dense chapter, wondering how to cram in all that background data without the pages sounding like a shampoo bottle’s list of ingredients. Informational writing tells, it doesn’t show. . . . mostly information is the good writer’s nemesis. It yanks the reader out of scenes, away from drama and lived experience, where the reader can watch external events and interpret them on his own. Getting fed bland information like being preached to by a schoolmark.
Karr argues that “skillul writers either package facts so they hold this kind of psychological interest, or the data get palmed off in carnal scenes the reader can image and engage with on a physical level.”
She uses the example “In 1968, he shot himself with a Smith and Wesson pistol.” When faced with this fact, a reader is going to want to know some emotional details connected with the event.
Karr also discusses dates and labels. She writes;
Rather than present an abstract judgment (“She was a thief”), I try to re-create how I came to that opinion. “She was a thief” becomes “I stared into the computer’s big green eye, inside which sat the web site where my diamond bracelet was being sold, Lydia’s email contact in the corner.”
For handling dates, she suggests situating the scene in some context: “On the new that summer, I watched the president resign before helicopters on the White House lawn.” Nothing says “Nixon Administration, 1974” better than that.
My Own Private Waste Land works in part because it’s situated in a particular place and time (the later 2000s and mid-2000-teens) in Southern California during a major drought. The meterological in my lived experience clearly benefits from the metaphorical implications of Eliot’s The Waste Land.
But what I’ve also tried to do is use The Waste Land as a bridge between the moral bankruptcies and ethical failings depicted in the poem and the events from my own life, scraping the interior surfaces of my lived experience to plumb the seas of rising frustrations and emotions in my own life. While, on the surface, it looked like I was holding everything together, the life underneath cracked like wallboard in an earthquake, like dried earth in a drought. Those cracks would reach the surface on so many ways, becoming like spidercracks in fiberglass, a fragile web held together by the frayed ends of nerves.
Every detail metaphorically resonates, chosen to illustrate the cracking interior life as the exterior hid the trauma and damage. For the most part, I myself didn’t see a lot of the damage as it was happening - that’s what happens when medical and psychiatrict professionals don’t share information with you that affects your life. And by the time I knew, it was too late. The boulder of my life had been pushed over the edge and picked up steam as it rolled down hill.
Memoir Workshop/Class/Group In Development
Thank you to all my readers for making it this far with me. The more I study and write memoir, the more I come to love the form. I’ve interacted with several people who are interested in a workshop or class on memoir. And thus, I’m developing a class or memoir writing group.
If you are interested in joining, please let me know in the comments so I can add your name to the growing list of people who would like to participate.
I’m working out the details, but I want to provide maximum value for little to no cost. I see the workshop/class/group as two-fold thing: 1) understanding memoir form; 2) memoir writing workshop, with prompts and critiques. It may also entail some discussions of publishing (traditional vs. self), platform building, and the life.
But for the most part, I want you to progress on your memoir writing.
At first, I see this class being once a week for a month. After that we can decide how to proceed. If that works, we can continue. We may find once every two weeks to be sufficient. We may find that a week-long intensive workshop is the way to go. We will tailor the class/group to the group and tack this way and that according to the winds in our sails.
Thank you again for reading! It’s the weekend and the holiday season is upon us. I’ve made one batch of cookies - the best M&M cookies (according to a Food Network recipe). I usually make legendary batches of Toll House chocolate chip cookies, so this was an diversion for me. Our dachshund had his 4-year birthday yesterday. And tomorrow is December’s weenie walk! The last time there were about 25 or 30 weenies on an almost 3 mile walk. But this time - it will be c-c-c-c-old!
Stay warm, my friends. Holiday cheer to you all.
As for me, I’ll . . .
Just keep writing!
If you like what you’ve read, please subscribe, as I’m building an audience to help get my memoir, My Own Private Waste Land, traditionally published. A paid subscription will help me continue with my goals to pursue publication. Thank you so much for your support!
Am interested