Jun 2, 2014


Our last project for Creative Writing was to write a memoir.  I didn't like the idea of this and I couldn't figure out why.  I came up with a few ideas - but it was hard.  It's not so much that I don't feel I have things to share or that, at the very least, I would enjoy writing about.  It was just that word.  Memoir.  It didn't fit.

I tried to express this on Facebook and I may have offended other memoir writers by calling it "snooty."  But that wasn't what I meant.  It isn't snooty when other people write memoirs.  Just me.  I feel like I'm awfully young and haven't achieved anything super impressive.  I've done a few interesting things, but there's never been anything major I had to overcome to do it.  Why would I write a memoir?  Who wants to read my life story?  So I guess the correct term would be presumptuous.

I never did the assignment.  It wasn't a "for credit" class, and it was the last week and I'd had enough.  While I enjoyed the class immensely, I really wasn't getting any real feedback on my writing, just "that's good!"  An ego-booster, yes, but not helpful for my own personal improvement.

I don't feel like I didn't complete the class though.  I feel more like I'm saving this assignment for later.  When I'm old, you can be sure I'll be writing all kinds of memoirs and forcing my grandchildren to read them.  At that point, I intend to be totally eccentric and carefree and lose all sense of what the world thinks of me.  But for now... I think I'll focus more on finding life experiences to have rather than writing about them.

P.S. I can't believe it's June already!  The year's almost half over and there's still so much to do.  And maybe some down time to schedule also, to keep it from going by too fast.