You have a memorable experience and yearn to capture the memory by writing about it. You then have a choice: hide within the safety of fiction or reveal the often difficult truth.
I ran into this challenge when I decided to write about my husband’s illness and death, and my struggle for independence as a single woman. Originally I planned to write a non-fiction book about what other people had gone through with the often bizarre medical world. During a walk with a friend who had spent many years in publishing, I asked if she thought my plan was marketable. Her answer turned it around for me: “I think you should write about your own experiences first.”
Those words lit the way for Widow’s Walk. I decided I would write it as a memoir. The truth, nothing but the truth, I swore. (Note: This doesn’t necessarily mean the whole truth! I had children to protect.)
I began writing the book some four months after my husband’s death, referring to fragmentary journal jottings, but primarily ransacking my memories. Fortunately ((or unfortunately) , I had total recall of every word and gesture between my husband and myself, as well as with the world, during the 21 months of his illness.
Like most writers I had frequent bouts of doubt about what I was doIng. Was I telling too much or not enough and – daily! – who would care about some couple named Anne and Mel Hosansky.?
Halfway through I heard that the wonderful Israeli author Amos Oz had written a new book based, apparently, on his experience as a widower struggling wth his new life! The same theme as mine. However, he had chosen to write his book as a novel. Masochistically I read it, knew I could never write as well as he did, and came perilously close to pressing the Delete key on my total book.
In a despairing moment I shared my plight with a neighbor who was a freelance editor. “I give up,” I announced in a tone that indicated jumping off a cliff. “I should have written my book as fiction.”
The next morning a note was slipped into my mail box. “It will help other women more if they know your story is true,” she wrote.
I pressed the Save key and went on with my memoir.
Yes, it was painful to write the book truthfully. Hard to reveal my love/hate for my husband for “abandoning” me. Even harder to confess to being attracted to a man in my bereavement group just months after my husband’s death. I skirted around some of my children’s behavior, and consulted a lawyer about a sister-in-law who had treated me cruelly but whose act made a dramatic scene in the book. (“Change her name,” he advised.)
Miraculously a publisher (Donald Fine) was enthusiastic about the manuscript. So Widow’s Walk and my naked feelings saw the light of day. When I mailed the first copies to my children, I fled from the post office as if I were being pursued. Their reaction was – shall I say? – polite. As for the sister in-law, I needn’t have worried. She wasn’t interested in even looking at the book.
On the other hand I did hear from numerous readers who sent variations of, “You made me believe my feelings are normal.” Of all the poignant letters I received, the one that still echoes in my mind came from a widow who wrote simply: “Thank you for giving my grief a voice.”
I’m not saying that every life experience needs to be revealed in a memoir. But in my case it was enormously rewarding, even freeing. As I answered readers, “It’s gratifying to know that what Mel and I went through is lighting the way for others.”
In telling my story as truthfully as I could, I gave my grief a ”voice” too.
WEBSITE: www.annehosansky.com
BOOKS: WIDOW’S WALK (available through iUniverse.com); TURNING TOWARD TOMORROW ((xLibris.com) ; ROLE PLAY and TEN WOMEN OF VALOR (Amazon.com and Amazon Kindle); MAYA’s MAGICAL ADVENTURES( children’s book , available through ahosansky@gmail.com).