The Cuckleburr Times » memoir

The Good China

A Guest Article Writer — Sat, 28 May 2011 07:02:16 +0000

This Be My Guest Article is by Eric Poole, Author of Where’s My Wand?: One Boy’s Magical Triumph Over Alienation and Shag Carpeting.

A while back, a friend of mine told me that her mother’s aunt used to stand in front of the stove, cooking dinner, wearing a full-length mink coat and her best jewelry.

This is my kind of woman. Not just because she sounds slightly insane and obviously doesn’t care if somebody breaks a tooth on a diamond brooch in the meatloaf; but because this kind of behavior represents a “live for today” attitude that I pretty much suck at.

Don’t get me wrong, my furniture isn’t covered in clear plastic (yet). I don’t reuse toilet paper (yet). I do manage to have a little fun. But all too often in my life, I’ve “saved the good china”.

And then, I lost a work friend to diabetes. And another friend’s longtime partner to AIDS. And last week, my partner’s twin brother to liver disease. All of them in their 40′s. All in the space of a few weeks.

And I began to think that life is waaay too short. So maybe I should just go crazy. Maybe I should take a trip around the world or try out for America’s Got Talent or blow all my money on a talking robot.

Of course, I can’t take months off of work to backpack the world. And it’s unclear exactly what talent I actually have. And I don’t really need one more person yelling at me on a daily basis.

Maybe I’m just too practical for my own good. I’ll probably end up in the spirit world going, “Damn, why didn’t I show up at Starbucks in my SpongeBob p.j.’s? Why didn’t I hand out $100 bills at homeless shelters? Why didn’t I rent an Amish buggy to drive to a rave?

Which leads me to a question: What constitutes “living for today”, and what is just plain irresponsible?

Trying to balance having a life of No Regrets with the possibility that you might outlive both your money and your liver is not exactly easy. I’d kinda prefer not to hit my expiration date lying in some gulag nursing home staffed by Nurse Ratched and the guy from Saw.

So what’s the answer?

Maybe Controlled Crazy. Maybe I’ll travel as far around the world as I can get in two weeks. Maybe I’ll try out for a stand-up comedy class at the Improv. Maybe I’ll blow $100 on a talking pedometer.

Hey, baby steps.

Eric Poole, author of Where’s My Wand?: One Boy’s Magical Triumph Over Alienation and Shag Carpeting, is a VP of marketing for a major media company and the winner of more than thirty advertising awards. He was once called “the best undiscovered writer I’ve ever met” by Tracey Ullman, an accolade he continues to live up to. He lives in Los Angeles with his partner of nine years.

For more information please visit http://www.ericpoole.net, and follow the author on Facebook and Twitter.

Should I Disguise Characters in My Book Or Memoir? Is it Ok to Write About People I Know?

Stephanie J. Hale — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 03:36:15 +0000

Writers often ask me if it’s ok to write about people they know. Sometimes they’re writing a memoir or autobiography. Or perhaps they’re writing a novel with a hero or villain based on someone they know.

There are various little tricks you can use to make sure that people don’t recognize themselves. You can change physical appearance – stature, hair length, eye colour, etc. You can also change gender, profession, or location. Or you can blend two or more different people together to create a different character.

Believe it or not, the chances are most people won’t recognize themselves. I say this as someone who has both written about other people and been written about as a character.

When I have created characters based on people I know, they have never spotted themselves! Never. Not once. Similarly, I failed to recognize a thinly disguised portrait of myself in a Booker-shortlisted novel. Thankfully, the portrait was a flattering one. Though I won’t tell you the name of the book – that’s a little secret between me and the author!

Another alternative is to use a nom de plume to obscure everyone’s identity including your own. The creative advantage is that this may allow you the emotional freedom to write your book in an uninhibited way. Belle de Jour is a high profile example of a writer who did this. However, I wouldn’t recommend this in all but the most extreme cases – as it makes it extremely difficult to do marketing and publicity.

How will you promote your book if you can’t speak to the media, for example? How will you manage your website or build a relationship with your readers? People also relate better to book reviews when they see a photo of the author.

If you’re on good terms with the people you’re writing about, and you don’t intend to disguise them, I’d advise asking what their feelings are. As a child, my mother was a newspaper editor who used to pen a weekly column poking fun at our home life. It was trivial domestic stuff, nothing to shake the earth. But as a teenager, let me tell you, it was excruciating.

A lot of this will come down to the personalities of the people you are writing about and what your relationship with them is like. Only you will know the answer to this.

Finally, we come to the issue of libel. Now, libel laws are complex – I can easily write a whole new article on the subject. However, the main question to ask is: can the person be identified by themselves or anyone else? If so, is what you’ve written damaging to them either professionally or personally?

Rest assured that libel is extremely hard to prove, very expensive, and rarely embarked upon by anyone but the rich and famous. This said, get expert advice if you think you may be writing anything that’s likely to end up with a law suit.

Stephanie J Hale is a leading writers’ coach and publishing scout. She’s worked with bestselling authors and top literary agents for over 20 years. She specializes in helping writers get the publishing deal and readership they deserve. More FREE publishing tips at: http://www.richwriterpoorwriter.com

Book Excerpt: Drug Use – from The Michael Jackson Tapes

A Book Excerpt Author — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 21:29:28 +0000

This excerpt is from the book The Michael Jackson Tapes: A Tragic Icon Reveals His Soul in Intimate Conversation, by Rabbi Shmuley Boteach.

Michael confused his afflictions of soul with ailments of the body. But whereas once upon a time the light of celebrity was hot enough to make him feel better, he had reached a stage where even that no longer warmed him. Drugs became the only balm by which to dull pain. As time went on I understood why things like painkillers or plastic surgery were so attractive to Michael. Michael knew nothing but pain.

Michael’s drug use was difficult to detect because of how spacey and out-of-it everyone expected him to be. Plus, it was easy to assume that Michael took strong painkillers only when he was in physical pain. In the time that I knew him, he always seemed intent on me having a positive view of him and nothing untoward was ever done in my presence.

In retrospect, there were more signs that he was on something than I or anyone around him recognized or acknowledged. Michael was very forgetful. He sometimes seemed woozy. His head once drooped completely at the home of a friend that I had taken him to meet. But I just thought that with the kind of crazy hours he kept — Michael was going to sleep at 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning — he was just always tired. Michael often called me and spoke as if he was either tremendously inspired or a bit off. “Shmuley, I’m just calling to tell you that I love you. I looovvveee you. IIII llloooovvveee yooouuu. . . ” “I love you too Michael,” I would say. But by and large, those conversations were very short, and I thought to myself, yes, that’s strange, but that’s Michael. He’s different. He’s eccentric.

What perhaps should have made me most suspicious was Michael’s constant physical ailments. He was always complaining that a part of his body was hurting or had been injured. This, of course, became a central staple of his trial. But the Angel Ball was my earliest exposure to it. Michael claimed that he had been slammed against a wall by fans and fellow celebrities trying to get his autograph. But even if that had happened, it seemed as though the smallest knocks could completely incapacitate him. And that was either true — Michael did have a very fragile disposition — or he was using these ailments, which in his mind were real, as an excuse to take more painkillers.

A few weeks before the major address Michael was to give at Oxford, when he was back in California and I was in New York, Michael called to tell me he had broken his foot while practicing dancing at Neverland. “Are you going to cancel Oxford?” I asked. “No,” he said. “It’s way too important.” In due course, Michael arrived in Britain in a foot cast and on crutches. I heard him give a number of conflicting stories about how he had broken his foot, but again, I made nothing of it, thinking that Michael was forgetful.

A doctor traveled with him to England from the United States and stayed in Michael’s hotel. Whenever he would complain of terrible pain from his foot, they would go together into his room and emerge, about a half-hour later, with Michael looking glassy-eyed. I asked the doctor about his background and his practice, and as I recall he seemed to give inadequate responses. He was a personal physician who practiced in New York. I wondered why he had accompanied Michael all the way from overseas just because of a broken foot. There were doctors in England if Michael needed one. But if he was being administered more painkillers for his broken foot, which is what I suspected, Michael was still nowhere near being so out of it that he couldn’t function.

Michael did come three hours late to Oxford, which meant that he did not attend the dinner that was staged by the Oxford Union in his honor, and he did arrive three hours late at our mutual friend Uri Geller’s wedding ceremony the next day where I officiated and Michael served as best man. But other than that, the trip to Britain went off without a hitch.

As I was about to embark on my return flight home, Michael, who was staying on in Europe, reached me on my mobile phone. “Shmuulleeeey,” he dragged out the word, partially slurring it, “Yesterday at the wedding, I was just staring at you conducting the ceremony. I was staring at you because I love you, because you’re my best friend. I just loooovveeee you.” I responded as I always did, “I love you too, Michael.” “But no,” he said, you don’t understand. I loovvveeee yooouuuu,” dragging out the words for effect. It was a flattering phone call, but it made me alarmed that Michael was on something very strong. I would continue having conversations with him about staying off the poison of prescription drugs. He never fought me and always agreed.

When Michael was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame that March, he invited me and my wife, Debbie, as his guests to the dinner at The Waldorf-Astoria in New York City. Although he was still on crutches, he seemed completely lucid. I spent a few hours in his suite helping him write his acceptance speech and he seemed cheerful and in good spirits. The next time we did a public event together was a few weeks later when we went to Newark, New Jersey. Michael’s foot had healed and he was out of the cast. On that day, Michael seemed fine. Confident, chewing gum, and irritated with me as I explained earlier, but nothing more. I was certain that whatever medication he was taking had been connected with his broken foot and was now in the past.

It was a few months later, after I had severed all contact with Michael, that reports started to filter back to me from one of Michael’s closest confidantes that he was hooked on prescription medication and imbibing large quantities of them. It was getting much worse, this friend said, and it was destroying his life. Demerol and Xanax, among others, were mentioned. “Is there a quack doctor giving this stuff to him?” I asked. “No,” I was told. “The doctors around him seem okay. He seems to be getting his own supply; no one knows from where. Michael is injecting himself with the drugs intravenously.” “Well,” I said, noting that Michael and I had no interaction and I could therefore offer little assistance, you guys better do something and save him before he completely self-destructs.”

Michael’s parents, Katherine and Joseph Jackson, were also concerned and invited me to their home in Encino, where they asked me to reinvolve myself in Michael’s life. Michael’s parents related to me that Michael had deteriorated significantly since I had last seen him. His state was bad enough for them to have attempted a family intervention to break the drugs’ hold on him. Michael’s brothers, a few weeks earlier, had arrived at Neverland unannounced to try to get him into rehab, where he had gone almost ten years earlier after admitting to an addiction to prescription drugs. Michael, however, had heard that they were coming and fled.

His parents were concerned, and I felt for them. But this just reinforced my decision. Not only was I sure that Michael would not listen to me, I knew next to nothing about helping people in this situation except to get them into rehab. Perhaps I could inspire Michael to make that decision, and his parents thought I could at least help. But I knew they were wrong. Michael had long since ceased taking my counsel. He found my advice too demanding. I was an irritant and was treated as such. Katherine, who was the anchor of Michael’s life and whom I knew from the long interview I had done with her for this book, and Joseph Jackson, who I was meeting for the first and only time, had much more sway with their son than I did, and it was imperative for them to save their son’s life by becoming available parents in his greatest hour of need. And if his own parents could not persuade him to get help, how could I?

Joseph Jackson also raised the subject of Michael’s management with me. He said he didn’t approve of the people running Michael’s career at present and that he wished to reinvolve himself in Michael’s management. I told him sternly, if respectfully, “Mr. Jackson, your son doesn’t need a manager right now. He needs a father. You should relate to him as the father he feels he never had.”

I left that meeting shaken. How tragic for Michael, and how similar this was all beginning to sound to Elvis, a fallen star, in terrible emotional and mental anguish, turning to drugs for relief, until they eventually destroyed him. Would Michael end up dead at an early age as well?

According to someone very close to Michael, the year before his arrest, Michael got clean. This person told me that Michael had, by himself, “gotten off the stuff . . . he’s completely clean.” I was incredulous. “He didn’t go for rehab?” I asked. “You’re saying he got himself clean on his own?” “Yup,” he said, “We’re really proud of him. He’s clean. I swear it’s true.” Well, that was good news.
I was therefore extremely troubled to hear, from the same person again, that shortly after the arrest Michael had gone back on “the same stuff. He’s delusional. That’s how he’s coping with the case. He’s out of it a lot of the time.”

“Have you tried to get him to stop?” I asked. “Yeah, I had a meeting with him. I told him I was positive he was back on the stuff. He denied it, but I know what he’s like when he takes that stuff. But he responded by sort of cutting me off from him. Now, I can’t get access to him.”

This, sadly, was a typical response to Michael hearing people criticize his behavior. He just shut them out. “Do the people around him know?” I asked. “I don’t see how they can’t,” he responded. “He’s drinking a lot of wine and mixing it with all this stuff.” This last comment especially surprised me, because, to my knowledge, Michael never drank alcohol. Indeed, even when he came to our home for the Sabbath meals, he would reject the tiny quantity of sacramental wine I offered him, telling me that he never drank “the Jesus juice.”

The fact that Michael Jackson had been taking large doses of prescription medication explained much of his erratic behavior. Why would the man who was so famously overprotective of his kids suddenly dangle his own new baby from a balcony in Berlin? Why would the man who was so famously reclusive agree to a British journalist virtually living with him for a tell-all television documentary? Michael always told me how much he hated the British press more than any other. He told me that “Whacko Jacko” had started in England. So why would he have allowed Martin Bashir to essentially live with him for so many months? Indeed, Michael’s decision to grant full access to Bashir will forever remain the professional decision that most unraveled his life.

When I watched the 60 Minutes interview with Ed Bradley that preceded the trial, in which Michael accused the Santa Barbara police of locking him up for forty-five minutes in a feces-covered bathroom and roughing him up so badly that they dislocated his shoulder, it seemed so improbable that I suspected that Michael’s reality had been impaired.

Sure enough, twice in the interview they showed Michael stopping the interview to complain about how much his back hurt. The old opportunities (excuses) to take more prescription medication were back. I called my friend. “Did the police do all those things?” “No,” he said. “They were really nice to him. Michael is delusional.” Now this report may have been inaccurate, but I doubt it.

In 2004 I wrote in a public article, “If people around him don’t save Michael from himself, Michael may be yet another superstar who dies young, God forbid, due to the quintessential celebrity-oriented diseases of drug and substance abuse. But a wall of silence around this problem, while it might protect Michael’s image, will do nothing to protect him.”

The above is an excerpt from the book The Michael Jackson Tapes: A Tragic Icon Reveals His Soul in Intimate Conversation by Rabbi Shmuley Boteach. The above excerpt is a digitally scanned reproduction of text from print. Although this excerpt has been proofread, occasional errors may appear due to the scanning process. Please refer to the finished book for accuracy.

Copyright © 2009 Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, author of The Michael Jackson Tapes: A Tragic Icon Reveals His Soul in Intimate Conversation

Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, author of The Michael Jackson Tapes: A Tragic Icon Reveals His Soul in Intimate Conversation is one of the world’s leading relationship experts and spiritual authorities. His twenty-one books have been best-sellers in seventeen languages, and his award-winning syndicated column is read by a global audience of millions. He is the host of TLC’s award-winning Shalom in the Home and was Oprah Winfrey’s love, marriage, and parenting expert on Oprah and Friends. He served for eleven years as rabbi at Oxford University, where he built the Oxford L’Chaim Society into the University’s second largest student organization. Today, Newsweek calls him the most famous rabbi in America. The winner of the highly prestigious London Times Preacher of the Year award, Rabbi Shmuley is also the recipient of the National Fatherhood Award and the American Jewish Press Association’s Highest Award for Excellence in Commentary. He lives in New Jersey with his wife, Debbie, and their nine children.

Learn more about The Michael Jackson Tapes at www.michaeljacksontapes.com and www.shmuley.com.

Follow Rabbi Shmuley on Twitter and on Facebook.

The Sugarless Plum

A Be My Guest Author — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 05:01:45 +0000

This Be My Guest article is written by Zippora Karz, Author of The Sugarless Plum: A Ballerina’s Triumph Over Diabetes.

I left my home in Los Angeles at the age of 15 to study at the famed School of American Ballet, the official school of the New York City Ballet. By the age of 18, I became a full member of the NYC Ballet. By 20, I was starring as the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker, dancing roles created by George Balanchine and Jerome Robbins.

The following year I was featured in a new ballet by Peter Martins (the company director following Balanchine’s death). It was an incredibly exciting time, but also a very exhausting one. Dancing all day and performing every night, I ignored the strange symptoms I was feeling. I didn’t think anything was wrong.

I thought I was feeling thirsty and hungry, spaced out, having to urinate frequently, and losing weight because of the intense schedule and my nerves for the big premiere. I would have continued to ignore my symptoms had it not been for the sores under my arms that had become infected. It was terribly painful to lift my arms, not to mention how unattractive it was. I was often dizzy and I found it hard to feel my extremities, particularly my toes, when I danced.

My diagnosis was informal and cold. I sat in that office and was handed pamphlet after pamphlet about diabetes and its terrifying complications, anything from heart disease and stroke, to blindness, kidney failure and loss of limbs. All I could think about was getting back to the theater. I left the doctor’s office confused and annoyed. Back at the theatre, I convinced myself the blood work was off because of my exhaustion or a lab error. I was a 21-year-old aspiring ballerina with the New York City Ballet. A disease people give money to for charity had nothing to do with me.

I was clearly in denial, fueled by the fact that because of my age, doctors assumed I had type 2 diabetes (associated with lifestyle, being overweight and inactivity) and I was put on oral medication. Everything came crashing down when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. Going on insulin felt like the ultimate failure. I hated my body for its inadequacies. I felt hopeless at the thought of how I would juggle shots of insulin with my performance schedule. I was inexperienced with how much insulin to take at any given time before dancing, and unaware of the immediate danger of taking too much.

I should have discussed my concerns and difficulties with my doctor, but at the time it was easier to find a new one rather than try to communicate with the old one. Once again I was told I had type 2 diabetes. This new doctor even took me off insulin, to even stop checking my sugar levels. He thought the lows on stage were far more dangerous than letting my sugars go up a bit. He thought I was being obsessive. Could he have been right?

How could I have convinced myself it was okay to let my blood sugars go high? I was still hoping the whole thing would go away or would reverse itself. I was still in denial, happy to put the meter away and stop my shots. It didn’t take long for my original symptoms to return. I think dancing all day and night, and eating as perfectly as I could, is how I survived with no insulin for almost a year. But I looked and felt terrible. Even though the company still let me dance in the Corp de ballet every night, there were no leading roles coming my way. When I finally “woke up” and checked my blood sugar levels, the meter would not go that high. It was time to end my denial, take responsibility for my body, and accept my insulin-dependent diabetes.

I started a balanced insulin program and began looking and feeling better. Ironically, as I learned how to perform every night without experiencing extreme lows, I also psychologically started to question the reality of my situation.

Was this a suitable lifestyle for a person with type 1 diabetes? Maybe I was putting too much pressure on myself. I was exhausted from all the ups and downs with my physiology and from trying so hard to prove I was the same promising dancer I once was. I was not the same. Maybe it was time for me to admit I had accomplished a lot, but it was time to find a more suitable lifestyle for an insulin-dependent diabetic.

As much as I wanted to quit dancing, I just could not let myself do it. When I listened to the small voice in my heart, I admitted to myself that if I quit, I would be using diabetes as an excuse. The truth is I was more tired about wishing I could be the dancer I once was, alive and joyful, than I was tired of diabetes. I told myself I hadn’t yet danced on the right insulin regime for long enough and didn’t know what was possible. I did not want to look back with regret. I knew I would always wonder, so I had to stay and keep trying.

Nine years after I joined the company (six years after my diagnosis), I was promoted to Soloist Ballerina of the New York City Ballet. I performed with the company another 7 years, 16 years total with the company and 13 with diabetes. I loved every performance and am grateful for every moment I had on stage. Today I am a teacher and I stage George Balanchine ballets all over the world.

We all have a story. We all experience obstacles that affect our motivation and ability to take the best care possible. We can’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel, even though it is there, brighter than we can imagine. If, in the end, it is just too much, know that you did the best you could. I believe our best is good enough!

©2009 Zippora Karz, author of The Sugarless Plum

Zippora Karz, author of The Sugarless Plum:A Ballerina’s Triumph Over Diabetes,is a former soloist ballerina with the New York City Ballet where she performed for 16 years on stage and in televised performances. She was featured in a variety of roles choreographed by George Balanchine and Jerome Robbins (The Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker being one of her favorites) as well as works choreographed for her by such choreographers as Peter Martins and Lynne Taylor Corbett. Miss Karz danced with the New York City Ballet from 1983 through 1999. She now serves as a teacher and repetiteur for the George Balanchine Trust, rehearsing and staging Balanchine’s choreography for a host of national and international dance companies. She is also a diabetes spokesperson and educator who regularly addresses major diabetes conferences and organizations worldwide. She lives in Los Angeles, California. For more information please visit www.ZipporaKarz.com

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Memoirs, Movies and Those (Mostly) True Stories: A Writer’s Take on Reality’s Rough Edges

Steve Luxenberg — Sat, 16 May 2009 18:09:33 +0000

Why do they do it?

Why do so many film makers put “based on a true story” or some variation as one of their opening frames, when they have freely altered the truth of the story?

Because it works. Because those words retain their mesmerizing power, even though they misused or stretched at times to the point where there’s little relationship between the story being told and the facts that gave rise to them. Truth-twisting in film has become so accepted that reviewers rarely comment on it or point out the discrepancies between fact and fiction, between information and invention.

As a long-time journalist and a first-time author, I’m probably more fascinated than most people at the transformation of a nonfiction work from book to screen. In researching and writing about a family secret that took me back to the beginning of the 20th century, I chased down many leads to ambiguous and not entirely satisfying conclusions. I joked with friends that I envied the novelist’s license to invent what could not be learned or verified.

I’m not suggesting that there’s a grand deception here. It’s news to no one that movies change certain facts, sometimes for legal and privacy reasons. But film makers increasingly want to have it both ways. What began as a safeguard (“some facts have been changed to protect . . . “) has turned into a genre. Why not just come out and say it? “Some facts have been changed to protect the innocent, streamline the plot and increase dramatic tension. But the story is still (mostly) true.”

Instead, the trend line is moving in the opposite direction. Recent case in point: The Changeling, starring Angelina Jolie as the mother fighting a corrupt Los Angeles police department that had declared a stranger to be her abducted nine-year-old son, begins with the words “a true story” appearing on a black screen, holding for a few seconds, and then fade out.

Not “based on” or “inspired by.” Just that flat, unambiguous statement: “a true story.” Then, in the fine print at the end the closing credits, the film makers fess up. “While this picture is based upon a true story,” we’re told, “some of the characters have been composited or invented, and a number of incidents fictionalized.” In other words, (which I liked and admired for its storytelling as well as its artful re-creation of the 1920s) improved on the remarkable tale of Christine Collins and her young son Walter. The true story wasn’t quite good enough.

Moviegoers seem to accept this hybrid genre, and the industry celebrates it (Oscars, etc.). Is it any wonder that it has crept into the world of nonfiction books, where memoir writers have claimed a license to “fill in the gaps” (based on truth and memory, of course)? Or that universities now offer courses in “creative nonfiction”?

Truman Capote gave us the “nonfiction novel,” stealing a page from the film world. Tom Wolfe chose to take his new journalism into novels, which solved that problem. James Frey obviously crossed the line, however, in embellishing and inventing some of his 2003 memoir, A Million Little Pieces about his drug use and brushes with law. A screenplay version of Frey’s work could have said “a true story,” and no one would have batted an eye.

Subsequent editions of Frey’s memoir have carried an apology from the author that is a model of muddle. “I didn’t initially think of what I was writing as nonfiction or fiction, memoir or autobiography,” he wrote. “I believe, and I understand others strongly disagree, that memoir allows the writer to work from memory instead of from a strict journalistic or historical standard. It is about impression and feeling, about individual recollection. This memoir is a combination of facts about my life and certain embellishments. It is a subjective truth, altered by the mind of a recovering drug addict and alcoholic. Ultimately, it’s a story, and one that I could not have written without having lived the life I’ve lived.”

Frey’s right on one score: Others disagree, and there’s a lively and continuing debate in the writing community about these issues. On a Facebook discussion the other day, for example, the question came up: How far should memoir writers go in reconstructing scenes and dialogue?

I draw a harder line than most. I favor the rough edges of memory over neat and pretty reconstructions. (More interesting, usually.) Invention? As I wrote in the Facebook discussion, that’s why we have novels.

Readers, I think, are smart. They know that most writers don’t have notes or documents to back up dialogue from long ago. So what’s the problem? In a word: Credibility. As a writer, I want readers to grant me some license to tell my story. But if I present lengthy dialogue as fact, I risk losing their trust — and their interest. Bad deal for me.

There’s a scene in my new book, Annie’s Ghosts: A Journey Into a Family Secret, that illustrates the difficulty of reconstructing past events. I’m at a restaurant outside Detroit, interviewing a cousin about the secret that stands at the center of the book. The secret was my mother’s. Throughout her life, my mom had hidden the existence of a disabled sister. I was trying to find out why. My search had led to my cousin, someone I had never known.

In the early 1950s, I learned, my cousin and my mother had argued about the secret, leading to a life-long rift between the two women. Just as my cousin is recounting a climatic moment in their dispute, we’re interrupted by the waitress’s offer of coffee. After the waitress leaves, my cousin resumes her account — and offers a different (and more dramatic) version of the key moment she had described only seconds before.

I had no doubt about the crux of my cousin’s story. My mother had, after all, kept the secret. But if I wanted an “accurate” version of their conversation, I was out of luck. My cousin was giving me the version that reflected years of thinking about that moment, that reflected her feelings as much as her memory.

“The nuances lie beyond my reach,” I wrote in the book. “Fifty years later, this is the best my cousin can do.”

I saw no reason to choose between the two versions. I would present both, and use the scene to point out the intricate patterns of trouble imposed by time and memory. That would be better than presenting a reconstruction of their argument.

That would be something closer to true.

Steve Luxenberg has been a senior editor with the Washington Post for twenty-two years, overseeing reporting that has won numerous awards, including two Pulitzer Prizes for explanatory journalism. He lives in Baltimore, Maryland. For more information, please visit http://www.steveluxenberg.com.

Where to Start Writing Your Book

Melinda Copp — Sat, 06 Dec 2008 06:33:44 +0000

Writing a book is such a big project that many aspiring authors have no idea where to start. If you’ve been thinking about writing a book, you can use the following three steps to turn your thoughts into action!

Step One: Define Your Topic, Audience, and Competition

When writing a book, it helps to have a clear idea of what you want to cover and who you want to reach. It also helps to know your competition-what books have already been written on the same topic and how yours will be different (and better).

So first, consider your book’s topic. What is your book really about? How will your book benefit your readers? What problems will it solve? Really take the time to scrutinize your topic and the strategies you plan to outline.

Next, ask yourself two questions: 1. Who needs and/or wants the information in this book? 2. Do these people buy books? Think about your book like a business. In any business venture, you need to know who you’re serving and whether or not the market is big enough for your book to sell successfully.

Finally, compare your book to what’s already been written and published on the topic. To find out what books yours will be competing with, go to Amazon.com and search your book topic. What titles come up? Have your read these books? What will make your book different? How is your book better? What gives your book an edge over the others?

Step Two: Make a List

Once you’ve narrowed down your topic, defined your audience and their needs, and considered your book’s competition you can start planning what you will include in your book and how it will be organized. Start by listing everything you want to include based on the information you gathered in step one.

If you’re writing a how-to book, then make a list of topics, examples, anecdotes, and strategies you plan to include. And if you’re writing a memoir or other narrative work, list the scenes you want to use to tell your story. Let your mind go on this, and brainstorm as many ideas as you can. You may not keep them all, but for now you need to get the material out of your head.

Keep in mind that, at this point, you aren’t making any final decisions. Remain flexible and open-minded; you will probably change things around once you actually start writing and researching. But making this list will help you get organized and give your writing some direction.

Step Three: Start Writing

You knew this step was coming! The only way to write a book is to sit down and start writing. Dedicate a specific, regular time to write every day. And if you can’t write every day, then make sure you write on most days.

Having your list will be handy on days when you don’t feel inspired. You can just look at it, pick a topic or scene that gets you going, and then stick with it until you’re done. Write as much as you can as often as you can, and work through your list until you’ve covered everything you want to write about in your book. Then before you know it, you’ll have a draft finished!

Writing Your Book

There’s no reason aspiring authors should stall writing their book before they even start. If you have a story inside you that you want to get out, use these three steps to get your writing started. You’ll be an author before you know it!

Melinda Copp is a freelance editor, writer, and author of the e-book The WRITE Way to Author a Profitable Book, a resource for entrepreneurial writers who want to create a marketable informational product that sells. For more information about Melinda and her services, visit her online at MelindaWrites. If you have any questions about how Melinda can help you, send her an email at info@melindawrites.com.

Write a Memoir – How to Write About What Troubles You the Most

Melinda Copp — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 12:55:29 +0000

Everyone has a story to tell, and unfortunately those stories aren’t always pleasant. What makes memoirs and other personal stories of recovery and triumph so appealing is that struggle is universal. And writing about it is one way-a great way-to make sense out of what troubles you the most.

However, when you want to share your experiences, you often have to confront your demons head-on. Depending on the demon, this can be pretty challenging. And depending on your mindset at the time you sit down to write, the results can be just as ugly.

For example, when you write about your parents neglecting you, you can’t completely bash them, no matter how heinous they were or how good it feels to get back at them. If you do, then your story will come across as one-dimensional and biased.

The trick is to create art and deeper meaning from your personal experiences that resonate beyond what happened to you. So how can you accomplish this? Consider the following tips.

1. Show all Sides of the Story

Sure, your mom may have rivaled the wicked witch. And maybe your ex-husband was an idiot. You know that, and you want everyone who reads your story to know it too. But you can’t only focus on the negative aspects of the people who wronged you.

This is a rule from journalism school that definitely works in creative writing. When you write about something-no matter how much you don’t like it-put your preconceptions aside and seek to understand. If you can portray your characters as three-dimensional human beings, their true nature will show through regardless and your story will have more depth as a result.

2. Do Your Research

Memoir is based on memory, but that doesn’t mean you can’t add depth and meaning (and accuracy) to your story by researching the events you’re writing about. Talk to you siblings and friends about what they remember. And talk to your antagonist and their friends, if they’re still around. Then present the facts you gather. The primary benefit of research is finding the truth, which is the heart of all successful memoirs.

3. Write from a Positive Place

Sure, it feels good to write terrible things about the people who’ve wronged you. But this sort of writing really belongs in a diary where it won’t ever see the light of day. And if you can’t honestly say that you are over your past, then writing about it in your diary is probably a good place to start. Then start all over when you’re ready to write for an audience.

Writing Your Memoir

Memoir is one of the most popular literary genres right now. And if you have a story to tell, you should definitely write yours. But if you want to publish it successfully, then you have to avoid writing something that comes off as a one-sided therapy session. Considering these three tips will help you write a memoir that communicates the deeper meaning of your personal history.

Melinda Copp is a writing coach, book editor, and ghostwriter who specializes in helping aspiring authors achieve their writing goals. Sign up for Melinda’s free e-zine, and learn the top ten mistakes aspiring authors make and how to avoid them!

The Thanksgiving I Shot My Uncle Harry (Almost)

Dennis Copson — Fri, 07 Nov 2008 21:33:38 +0000

They called it a near miss, but I called it terrifying. I had just nearly killed my Uncle Harry!

After fifty years, I still clearly remember the incident. It occurred when I was about twelve years old and had just begun to be allowed to hunt with the men in my family. We lived on a chicken and dairy farm in Belfast, Maine. Traditionally, every Thanksgiving eve the farm chores were done up early and the guys would head off for a late afternoon deer hunt before dark. This was the first year I was included. I felt grown up. And I had a rifle, too – an heirloom Winchester 38-40 caliber made in the late 1800’s and still a damned good deer rifle. Short barrel and stock, light, and a short range power packer. Perfect for a young fella like myself.

With a hunting party of five, we proceeded on the dirt path between the barns to the fields and apple orchard in the distance. All the others had loaded their rifles before leaving the yard. For some reason I had not. As usual, I was late in joining the group having been dilly dallying as young boys are wont to do.

“You’ll be late to your own funeral,” my older brother Burt always said. I never got it. At my age funerals were the farthest thing from my mind. Until that day, that is.

I hurried behind the men while reaching into my worn red plaid wool jacket pocket for the shells to the rifle. I dug out a handful, maybe six, and proceeded to slip them into the rifle one by one. I pulled the lever down to inject a shell into the chamber so as to be ready in case a deer jumped up from the brush along the path.

I was clearly in violation of all the rules of gun safety I had been taught since I first handled guns at about age seven: I was walking and loading; I was pointing the muzzle down and at someone rather than up and away from all possible human targets; I wasn’t paying close attention while handling a rifle. I was, in short, a danger to all with a loaded gun in my hands. I had set myself up for ‘Murphy’s Law’ to show itself.

As I jacked the round into the chamber – with my right forefinger errantly on the trigger – the rifle discharged. The sound was deafening since we were between two buildings. And it was a cold afternoon to boot. I saw a large clump of dirt kick up from the ground directly in front of and slightly to the right of my Uncle Harry. I just knew I had killed him and would catch hell for it. I froze in place, not from the cold but with a fear I had never experienced.

Everyone in the hunting party abruptly stopped and just stood still like in freeze-frame mode in a movie. No one moved; everyone was looking straight back at me with surprised and somewhat angry expressions. I was dead meat. Probably get pummeled and banned from the hunting party for life. I instantly knew so.

Everyone, that is, except my almost target, and fatality, Uncle Harry. He stopped walking only for a split second, shrugged, look back at me and calmly muttered “Geez, NEVER do that!” and continued on – unfazed.

That was my Uncle Harry; he was not one to get easily riled. Thank goodness I hadn’t killed him – he was a good old guy!

Especially not on Thanksgiving.

Major Dennis Copson is a retired US Marine and lives in Oceanside, CA where he is the Director of Sales and Marketing for Nature’s Big Bud Worm Castings and a freelance writer available for assignment. More information is available on his website at www.naturesbigbud.com and www.gogreenaid.com.

Researching Your Memoir- How To Mine the Material of Your Life.

Melinda Copp — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 16:05:18 +0000

Life is the raw material from which all writers work. Personal experiences and relationships with people often stir the urge to create and inspire the stories we put on the page. Whether you’re working on a memoir or a work of fiction based on your life experiences, the first place you will probably look for material is inside your mind, within your own memories.

But memories tend to blur and fade, making writing about your past difficult to do without research. Research can reveal details and eliminate inaccuracies that you may not remember correctly. Plus research helps you develop your material from a one-sided account into a multidimensional story so it resonates with people besides yourself and your family.

If you’re working on a memoir, or a story based on your life, consider looking in the following four places for information that will not only help shape your story, but also give it depth and dimension beyond what you can remember.

1. Personal Journals

As a kid, I was so worried that someone might find and read my journals that I often destroyed them. The thought of someone discovering my innermost feelings horrified me-after all, sixth grade can be pretty traumatizing. But now that I’m a writer struggling to know myself and my stories, there’s nothing I regret more than throwing my precious material into the garbage.

When assembling a memoir or other work based on your life, personal journals are often the most valuable resource you can have. So if you don’t already, start keeping a journal. Although you may not think you have anything significant to write about each day, just jotting down the date and a few notes about what you did will prove to be helpful for determining dates and timelines of events when you start writing your memoir.

If you have journals from your past, or even from your family members, you should haul them out of your attic and read them cover to cover. For writers, journals are like goldmines. They can help you recall events and your personal feelings and thoughts from that time in your life. A journal can even help you determine what your story is really about by revealing themes, potential story lines, and other important details about you and your life that you may not remember at first.

2. Photo Albums

Family photos are another invaluable resource for memoirists, so dig yours out and start looking. Photos help writers on several levels. First, they can help you remember people and events from your past. They can also be used to put faces with names, which can be used in descriptions. Photos can reveal personalities and clues about people and places that you may have forgotten or overlooked at the time.

For example, you might notice that your uncle isn’t smiling in any pictures. What does that tell you about his character? Is that consistent with your memories of him? You may also be able to mine valuable details about the locations where your life story unfolded, such as your childhood home, your backyard, or your college dorm. All these details will be captured in the backgrounds of your old photos.

Organizing photos can be a big job in itself and every person’s photo collections are likely in different states of order, so do your best to work with what you have and what’s applicable to your project. You may also have to contact family members and friends to put names with some of the faces and identify locations that appear in your collection of old photos.

3. Newspaper Archives

When researching family histories and personal stories, many writers look for obituaries and wedding announcements in their hometown newspapers. But newspaper archives can offer a writer much more than obits. If you’re looking for information about a specific event, newspaper archives are often the best place to look for a local perspective. And just leafing through the old pages-or microfilm reels-can stir old memories and ideas about your personal history.

You can use newspaper archives to help create accurate pictures of your life story’s setting by looking at what and who were making news at that time in your life. Clippings can jog memories of people and events that may have played a role in the story you want to write. Newspapers can even reveal interesting stories that deepen and expand your personal history.

Your hometown’s library should have a complete archive of the local newspaper, most likely preserved on microfilm or microfiche. The newspaper, if it’s still in operation, may also have a comprehensive archive. Many newspapers offer their archives online, but the available dates may be limited and the search functions may not be as extensive as you need. You may have to contact the newspaper for information about using their archives. If you no longer live in your hometown, consider visiting for research purposes because some newspaper archives aren’t available any other way.

4. Interview Family and Friends

Even though you may be writing your own life history, getting your friends’ and family members’ perspectives on the events you write about will help you create a story with more depth and breadth. It will help ensure the events you recreate on the page are accurate beyond your own memories, which tend to shift and blur over time. And your story will be less one-sided with insight from other people who witnessed the events of your life.

Start by talking to your family and friends about the events you’re writing about, and see what they remember. Parents and grandparents, as long as they’re still around and able, will be able to provide invaluable insight on events of the past. Even old friends and neighbors, if you can track them down, are great resources when you’re writing a personal or family history. They may even be able to refer other helpful people and resources, such as diaries or family photos that you may not have known about.

When you approach friends and family members for information, think like a reporter and create a list of questions to give your interviews some structure. Talk about what they remember, and cover everything from conversations that took place to weather that day. But let your interviewees go off on tangents that seem interesting or important. And make sure you take good notes or record your interviews so you can transcribe them later.

Telling Your Stories

Everyone is interesting, and everyone has a story to tell. But telling an interesting personal story means looking beyond your memory of what happened in your life and finding deeper meaning and different perspectives through research.

As you write your memoir or novel based on your life, search beyond what you remember and look for material that will round out your narrative beyond what parts stuck with you. Your research may reveal story lines, themes, and details that you may have overlooked. Research takes work, but the results will pay off with a story that resonates with larger audiences and reflects the events of your life with greater accuracy.

Melinda Copp is a freelance editor, writer, and author of the e-book The WRITE Way to Author a Profitable Book, a resource for entrepreneurial writers who want to create a marketable informational product that sells. For more information about Melinda and her services, visit her online at MelindaWrites. If you have any questions about how Melinda can help you, send her an email at info@melindawrites.com.