I guess I should mention I am not writing a memoir and have no plans to ever pen one. But that hasn’t (and shouldn’t) stop me from thinking about all the things I won’t be writing about in the book I don’t plan to write.
With me?
Good.
NOT my coffee cup
Here’s what you won’t be reading in the book I’m not writing:
- If Only I Hadn’t Been So Skinny. Have you seen this in memoirs? “I was such a skinny kid…” “I was pretty, but way too skinny.” In my not-oir you are never ever going to see this. It’s hard for me not to chuck a memoir across the room when I come across the “poor me, I was so skinny” themes. Because? Cannot relate.
- I Had So Much Random Sex With Celebrities. Perhaps I have read one too many books where the author coupled with the likes of Bill Clinton, Norman Mailer, or Baryshnikov. I should stop reading those because I’ve never had random celebrity sex, but maybe if I had, I would be writing a memoir.
- We Were So Poor We Slept In the Car. Again, I have read so many rags-to-riches stories that now I think my humble ranch house in suburban Dallas will make for the most boring story in the world. While I wasn’t allowed to get Guess jeans in 1985 unless I paid for them myself, that’s not nearly as exciting as living without plumbing or having one of my family members gamble our grocery money way. Damn middle class upbringing.
- I Moved To The Big City All By Myself To Make it Big. While I did move from suburban Dallas to gritty, south side Chicago, I made that move to attend graduate school in Humanities. It doesn’t have quite the same ring as someone who moved from Tallapoosa, Mississippi to New York City to become an actor or a famous televangelist. Also? I don’t think that getting a post-graduate job as an admin assistant counts as “making it big.”
- I Went On A Long Spiritual Journey By Myself and Found My Bliss. Nope, this won’t be there either. I did once go to Mexico by myself in December 2004, but I almost went insane watching 24-hour coverage of the tsunami that hit Indonesia. I watched the death toll climb higher and higher, and there was no bliss to be found– a dead cockroach and a stale chocolate wafer, but there was no bliss.
- Then I made the winning shot/basket/goal. No. Just no. There’s so much to love about sports, if only there were no balls or no need to work with other people under time pressure. Oooh, and there’s all that touching and sweat. If not for all that, maybe some triumphant Rudy-like passages might exist. The best sports story I have is that I ran a half marathon while my nipples were bleeding and the guy who had recently dumped me ran right past me (who was gasping for breath about to die of exhaustion), while chatting with his new sporty girlfriend (the kind who could run a half marathon in a tiny sports bra). Don’t worry: You won’t ever have to read about that incident again, because I am not writing a memoir.
What’s not appearing in your memoir?
Bwahaha! I love this!! None of those could be in my non-existent memoir either!!
It does seem kind of unfair that neither of us has had sex with celebrities, though. Wait, but then we’d have the hassle of feeling compelled to write a memoir. Yeah, I guess it’s better this way.
I am sure Billy Clinton would have tried to bed us, and that would make a good story.
I love the bit about the glamour of getting a post-graduate job as an office admin, because that is something that would have to go in MY memoir, lol. Oh, what thrilling lives we do lead.
RIght? The papercuts…the fax maching jamming…the graduate students treating me like ca-ca. So awesome.
I read a piece on She Writes that compared memoir writing to “the trauma Olympics”. I wouldn’t even make it into the qualifiers!
Me neither, which means my writing would have to be so fucking unbelievable…who has time for that?
Ha ha ha! Love this.
I think my not-oir would look like yours. Suburbs, university, job (teaching, in my case), kids, and sex ONLY with non-famous people I was truly committed to at the time. Athletically speaking, there was the time my skating coach said I was a prodigy with my sit-spin… but I was about 10 and that awesome phase was over when I hit puberty.
Funnily enough, if you change your mind and write a memoir, I will TOTALLY read it.
I’m not writing a memoir either but now I am embarrassed to admit I would have included two (possibly 3) of those. No way I’m telling now!
You better cough it up in your book…now you have to write one.
I’ve been reading a lot of memoir lately, and a really good one, Signs of LIfe by Natalie Taylor, made me think, “Wow, I’d never say that in a memoir.” She talks really frankly about how she can’t stand her mother in law and sister in law (this is after her husband’s tragic death). Apparently she is the sort of person who would also say those things to their faces. Not me, too passive aggressive! They are still all friendly.
I thought the same thing about that book…how could she say that about her sister in law. And I would say just about anything. But I wouldn’t cross the lines she crossed.
Unfortunately, the I was so skinny, am so skinny, if only I had some boobs or buns to take away from the awful skinniness. Hate me, iownevencare. (Except I do.)
I don’t hate you, it’s just JEALOUS…..
Love this. I think you should definitely write a memoir. I’d buy it.
THere once was a big-boned girl from Dallas, Texas, who dreamed big dreams, but just kept going to school until she got a law degree. . .
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
You’re definitely more interesting than I am. I have no skeletons in my closet. Iowa girl goes to an Iowa University, marries, lives in PA, moves back to Iowa and has a litter of kids. Bo-o-oring.
Girl, you have the chops to make paint drying interesting. Iowa paint.
My not-oir is not written by a ghost writer.
Clever!!!
I have sent an award your way. Come by and check it out.
The award is here.
Well well well, how cool is that. Checking it out now!
haha! if only i weren’t so skinny. hahaha. oh i feel the pain. you poor supermodel. yep, i’m not writing any of those memoirs either. mine would be boring. as in… if only i didn’t lead such a safe, boring life with the only interesting aspect being my sick tragic depression father. i don’t think there’s a market..
Same here except my dad wasn’t depressed.
slow and steady…
I heard a rumor you actually went to a sporting event in Houston…but were predictably late. Diss on the others, but don’t pick on the athletes…too easy. : )
Me? Late? You must be mistaken.
Love this! I have plenty of skeletons in my closet for an interesting read (or at least to keep me out of public office), but not a full blown memoir by today’s standards. Apparently, my mayhem is too bland. And I’d like to keep it that way! I would like the chance to write about how my life took off in my 40′s and I had to learn to take in so much joy (and recognition and self-love) it nearly killed me. Even if I’d be the only one to read it!
I’d read that. I know a little bit about that story from watching you and it’s as captivating as anything I’ve ever read. EVER.
Love this, because, I am actually working towards a memoir. But, I was a really skinny kid, not a good thing for guys. I didn’t make the winning shot, I didn’t have a lot of sex with celebrities, basically I survived, but more than that? I learned how to do more than survive and finally learned how to thrive.
I will definitely be reading whatever you write, be it a treatise on flight attendant behavior or your memoir. You’ve got the chops to write whatever you want. I am going to need to embellish with some craven hook-ups with aging rockstars or some international scandals….ah, maybe I’ll just write a novel.
Whew! I’m so glad I won’t be reading about any of those things in the memoir you’re not writing.
Rest easy!!!!
Well, since you’re not writing that memoir, I’ll have to write it. . . including all six of those stories wrapped into one. . . they all apply to me. . . weird, huh?
Bragging again? Always with the bragging. (don’t stop. It’s funny)