Next in this new series called Writing Lessons, my guest teacher is Katrina Kenison, a writer whose work is beloved by her readers. Smart, provocative, and beautifully written, her books teach us about ourselves while we read scenes from her life. Here, Katrina writes about how to tell the truth while writing memoir. She is part of a group of fine writers you will meet here, all of whom are going to teach us a thing or two about our favorite genre. Here, she takes on how to tell the truth when writing memoir.
How to Tell The Truth in Memoir
by Katrina Kenison
“Wow. Really. That’s not the way I remember it at all,” my husband said, shaking his head in disbelief after reading a chapter in which I untangled the complex reasoning behind our decision to sell our house in the suburbs, uproot our children, and move to the country.
“Mom! I can’t believe you put my black sweatshirt in your book! Now everyone’s going to think I was a Goth in seventh grade!” my son Jack protested when he discovered I’d written about a particular oversized garment with long, dangling sleeves and a capacious hood that he’d insisted on wearing to school every day for six months.
“That wasn’t the World Series; it was actually the post-season play-offs,” my son Henry informed me, upon reading a passing reference in my manuscript to a baseball game on TV.
“You never put chocolate-chip eyes into bear-shaped pancakes,” both of my sons pointed out after attending a reading during which I referred to an old Saturday morning tradition in our family. “Raisin eyes, but not chocolate chips.”
“I just don’t want everyone to hate you,” my friend Carol said in response to some pages about the death of a dear mutual friend. “And I’m afraid if you write about her, it will feel too much like you’re trying to own her, when in fact we all loved her, too.”
Welcome to the world of the memoir writer. A world in which everyone has their own version of the truth, but you are the only one sitting alone in a room, day after day, crafting your version of the truth into a story.
I wasn’t surprised my husband’s memories didn’t exactly match mine; we don’t pay attention to the same things. The two of us can sit across the table from each other at breakfast and each have a completely different experience of the meal: he’s tunneling through a bowl of oatmeal, lost in the New York Times; I’m eating a banana and noticing that the kitchen windows need washing. It’s not that one version of breakfast is true and one isn’t; what’s true is that we are each having different experiences.
As for my younger son, he’d had his chance to censor me: I’d asked him if he wanted to read my manuscript before I sent it to the publisher, but he didn’t bother. A year later, when he finally took a look at the chapter about him, the black sweatshirt was both preserved in print and ancient history; the book was published and he’d moved on to fitted tee shirts in bright primary colors. But Jack made a request that day – no more writing about him without his permission. And since I value my relationship with my son more than any book contract, I agreed.
Henry’s minor baseball correction, I made. Gratefully.
Chocolate chips vs. raisins was a little more complicated. I often did make bear-shaped pancakes. And sometimes, under pressure, I stirred in some chocolate chips. I think the kids are probably right though; the eyes were raisins. But the cadence of my sentence worked better with two words instead of one. I went with chocolate chips simply for the rhythm. Reason enough to nudge the facts just a little? I think so. My sons, however, are sticklers when it comes to the details of their childhoods.
And what to do about my friend’s concern that if I wrote about the death of someone dear to us both, I would be resented for it, as if I were somehow stealing everyone else’s grief and claiming it for my own? I took a long deep breath. I thanked her. And then I took the risk.
Writing about my own life means that I must also write about the people who are in my life, the very people I love most in the world – my family, my neighbors, my friends. Every memoir is, to some degree, a story of relationships. But to write memoir is also to stand alone, shouldering the burden of truth. Truth not as arrived at by consensus, but truth as I know it and experience it myself. And the truth, as I’ve learned the hard way, is rarely simple.
I am honest in my writing about my own inner struggles, self-doubts, mistakes, and shortcomings. If a narrative is strengthened by my willingness to be vulnerable, then I gather up my courage and step naked onto the page. But just because I’m baring my own soul doesn’t give me a free pass to expose someone else’s in the process. This is where truth hits up against trust.
I write what’s true for me, in a way I hope also honors the experience of those I’m writing about. When in doubt, I err on the side of kindness. I give my subject the pages to read well in advance of publication, and I ask for, if not exactly approval, consent. I willingly change names. I correct factual errors. I remove words that cause pain or embarrassment. I acknowledge, right up front, that our individual memories and experiences are almost certainly different, and that that’s okay – this is simply one version of reality.
And yet, I also know there’s a grain of validity in what my friend said. Putting words to an experience is also a way of owning it: This is what happened. This is how I felt. This is what I thought. This is what I’ve learned. And, for better or worse, this is the rendition of the truth that will survive, because it happens to be the one that got written down.
I have a responsibility to my reader to tell it like it was and a responsibility to myself to get it right. But I feel an even greater responsibility to the innocent bystanders who, simply by virtue of being part of my life, run the risk of becoming characters in my writing as well: to do no harm. So, I draw a big, invisible circle of protection around my loved ones, and I then do my best to write right up to the edge of it, but not to overstep. Most of the time, I do get it right. But not always. Writing about the living (or the dead, for that matter) is always a risky business, no matter how pure one’s intentions. We venture into the territory of memoir, and wrestle with the truth, at our own peril.
And so, I remind myself: Write on. Proceed with caution.
Magical Journey, An Apprenticeship in Contentment, an excerpt
She’s been gone three months, but I’m still not used to the world without Marie in it. Missing her, I sift through memories, as if by recalling the details that made her who she was, I might somehow keep my friend close. I can almost summon her: the warmth of her voice, her quick smile and lively brown eyes, her slim, competent hands and her peony-pink pedicured toes, the way she danced with joyous abandon to “Love Shack” on New Year’s Eve, drove fearlessly through Boston traffic, stretched her fingers to the sky in triangle pose.
But no matter how hard I try to conjure the essence of Marie, I can’t fill in all the empty spaces. The stark, absolute absence of her—of her life, her face, her hello on the other end of the phone, her name popping up in my e-mail box, her presence here on earth—has begun to grow, as Sylvia Plath put it, “beside me like a tree.” I live in the dark shadow of that loss, the shape and color of my own life changed by the too-early end of hers. And I know now, in a way I never quite did before, that time is contingent and that anything can happen.
A little over a year before Marie died, we went hiking in the White Mountains. The trip was her idea; she wanted a change of scenery and, as she said, to spend a couple of days “where the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning isn’t the fact that I have cancer.” That wasn’t easy anywhere, but a remote hut on the top of a mountain with four women friends for company seemed like a good place to try.
“Bruce is pissed,” she told us as she adjusted her backpack in the parking lot, dismissing her husband’s objection to her adventure as a bit of unnecessary fuss. “But there was no way I wasn’t going to do this. He’s worried about what could happen if I have some reaction to this new drug. Well, if I do, I’ll turn around.” Then she said, with typical matter-of-factness, as if willing it to be so, “I’ll be fine.” And she was.
Although we were prepared to take it slow on the way up, there was no need. Marie never did want anyone waiting around or changing a plan on her account. She’d been in the hospital that morning, had had her blood drawn for tests and received the first round of yet another experimental treatment. No longer holding out an expectation for a cure, she wasn’t about to abandon all hope either, and so she’d become a willing pioneer in uncharted medical territory, game to sign on for any clinical trial willing to admit an advanced stage-four ovarian cancer patient. If some untested drug held the possibility of stalling the disease for a while longer and buying her so much as another season of life—another child’s birthday, or a walk on the beach, or a trip to the farmers’ market—she was there.
On this day, she’d put in her time at the doctor’s office; now, she didn’t want to be treated like an invalid, or to think about her husband’s fears, or to consider the fact that this might be the last hike she ever took. She just wanted to climb a mountain and enjoy the scenery and laugh with her friends.
About Katrina Kenison
I let the writers compose their own bios. Here’s hers:
I am a wife, a mother, a friend, a life-long reader, a list maker, a recovering perfectionist, an inveterate seeker. When my two sons were small, I constantly had to remind myself: if I raced through my life, I’d miss it. I wanted time to enjoy my children as children, time to play games on the floor, daydream, and read aloud at bedtime. Writing became a way to stay in touch with my wiser self, a chance to pause each day and make sure I was fully present to the right here, right now of my own fleeting, precious, imperfect, everyday life. I’ve traced the seasons of family life through three books: Mitten Strings for God: Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry, The Gift of an Ordinary Day: A Mother’s Memoir, and Magical Journey: An Apprenticeship in Contentment. And in the process I’ve learned to celebrate the beauty of ordinary days and to savor the pleasure of small moments well lived. Like most of us, I still spend too much time regretting past mistakes and worrying about things that are out of my hands, but I’ve also found solace and contentment in life’s simple pleasures: stillness, friendship, good books, time with family, a walk in the woods. I write each week about life, reading and writing, and parenting at http://www.katrinakenison.com
HOW TO WIN A COPY OF THE BOOK
I hope you enjoy Writing Lessons. Featuring well-published writers of our favorite genre, in each installment the series will take on one short topic that addresses how to write memoir, and will include a great big book giveaway.
It’s my way of saying thanks for coming by.
The contest for this book is now closed. Please see the next installment of Writing Lessons, this week with the great Kate Richards.
The winner of the Katrina Kenison book is Deborah West. Congratulations, Deborah! I’ll be in touch to send your book.
Shirley Hershey Showalter says
Katrina, thank you for this lesson. You are a teacher of writing, yes, but more, you are a teacher of life. I remember how hard it was to be a young mom with a career and with something deeper under all of it. I too used a journal to record the places where my “wiser self” broke through.
The excerpt about Marie was wonderful. You don’t own her. You love her into immortality in this passage.
As someone who has waited all her life to write a memoir (at age 65), I now am harvesting those moments. I also have tried to both respect my loved ones, inform them in advance, and yet hold the space for my own perception.
Marion, I love this series idea. I’ll be back for more.
marion says
Dear Shirley:
Hello and welcome back.
I’m so glad you are here and that you are enjoying the series.
I plan to make it a regular feature of the blog.
Hope to see you here again soon.
Best,
Marion
Amy Mak says
I am a long-time fan of Katrina Kenison, and I love these writing lessons. I’ve long wanted to write more memoir, but it always seems I come back to, “I just can’t write that – so and so would hate it.” I like the idea of an invisible circle of protection, but then, take a deep breath, and write. It is true, history belongs to those who write it down. I also like the examples Katrina gave, of her own family remembering things differently than her, that she changed a few minor details, but stuck to her story, her truth.
Thank you for the writing lessons! And thank you, Marion – I love your blog!
marion says
Dear Amy,
Many thanks for the kind words about the blog.
I love doing it.
Please come back for more in the Writing Lessons series, where I’ll try to bring great writers every week to answer our questions about memoir.
Hope to see you here again soon.
Best,
Marion
Joan Z. Rough says
As I work my way through the years as I write my own memoir, I’m learning new things about trust and filling in the blanks of those lives that have ended. While being truthful, I also have to intuit, what my mother was feeling because she held onto all that she was feeling in order to hide her vulnerability and pain. She did not leave me with a stack of journals, letters, or scrapbooks … only the images of her face that I still hold in my memory when she was angry, surprised, or dissapointed.
As for my husband and kids, whose memories are so different from my own, I’ll be asking permission to write about them as I go along.
Thanks for your wise words, Katrina.
Jennie Nash says
What a wonderful post and such an important topic. Thanks for writing so eloquently on it!
melissa says
thank you for this exquisite offering, the series and the book giveaway. grateful to you both. from this piece, I really received that writing it down is owning it.
Janel says
I always find something valuable in Katrina’s words. This excerpt touched me today. Thank you for sharing it.
Lucy Beliveau says
Hello and thank you!
My friends, my therapist, my family, my husband and my doctors all tell me to write! How interesting it is to me to be so influenced by your words and suddenly have the desire to do exactly what everyone has been insisting! I feel like running up, opening my Dell laptop and emptying my heart and soul. It needs to be done. I have suffered for years from PTSD, fibromyalgia, bipolar depression, chronic fatigue syndrome, hypothyroidism and adrenal insufficiency. My drug list is lengthy and my sadness is deep.
Thank you for your encouragement. God bless you.
Lucy Beliveau
Mary Ann Kentoffio says
Very beautiful writing and a great series idea. The book excerpt reminded me about keeping your writing simple and to the heart–just as Marion always coaches. When Katrina describes what she misses about her friend she makes direct, simple choices. I might worry that descriptions like that have been ‘done before’ and try another way, only to find myself hacking at the idea in the weeds hours later, a few levels away from genuine.
Sonja Shelton says
I recently found the blog of Katrina Kenison and have been following it with great interest. Thank you for your writing lessons comments.
Laurie M says
Beautifully written! Great lesson for all to learn….1. Your reality is not anyone else’s, and their’s is not yours. 2. No matter what is going on find time to put it aside and enjoy life, because you don’t really know how long you will have that loved one with you.
I am not a Mother, but an Daughter, Sister, and Aunt…I find your righting inspiring and share it with all my friends that are starting the life as a Mother to their children.
<3
dawn says
Thank you. I always enjoy learning more about Katrina Kenison. She is an amazing woman. She makes me feel like I know her. I look forward to reading future lessons.
Donna Engborg says
There are four of us who started meeting to coach each other for the sake of writing. We all have different idea, different goals, but we all need each other for support. We’ve met 3 times now (once a month), and are super proud of the fact that no one has cancelled! Last month the question came up regarding writing a story – a memoir of sorts – with real people in it. Family members, friends. It was decided that the person should write it that way, and decide afterwards whether or not to change names, places, etc. Just write! :) So your article has perfect timing. Thank you for sharing. I”m sharing with my friends!
Jessica says
This was so interesting to read, Katrina. Thank you. I write about my children often, but right now they are too young to make a fuss about it. It’s surely something I’ll have to consider soon, no doubt. I love what you have to say about relationships taking precedence over the work. I couldn’t agree more.
Linda MacGegor says
This is a lovely sharing of your decision-making process. I’ve recently retired and always thought I’d write a memoir; however, from a more ‘healed’ perspective, I’m finding I don’t want to feed the pain of those memories. I’d rather focus on the great love that enabled me to endure, but that would be a whitewashing. So I’m silent – for the moment at any rate.
One of the treasures that I used in all of my English classes was to give the time for a “5 min. quick write”. The purpose, ostensibly, was to generate ideas for later stories; however, I knew what healing can emerge from writing and I wanted to give my students that gift.
Your books are treasures.
Lynn Rabin Bauer says
Beautiful, touching, the perfect way to start my day as I tidy the house after the long weekend. I will take these thoughts with me: be brave and remember kindness to one’s self and others. Thank you both!
marion says
Hi, Lynn:
You are very welcome, indeed.
So glad you are enjoying the work.
Please come back soon. The series will be a regular feature.
Best,
Marion
Carolyn Quinn says
I “discovered” Katrina Kenison a few months ago and fell in love with her words, identified with her memories and became inspired to write my own stories as they boomarang around in my memory. I have a story to tell – I have many stories to tell. The question is “would anyone want to read them, would anyone identify”. Really, I’ve always wanted to write and have some but it’s a hunger that can’t be satisfied. The only question is where do I write, when do I write and how do I get started. Time is running out…………if not now…………when? I’ve got to do this just as I’ve got to breathe…………………..I’m sixty years old and I’ve got a lifetime of “what ifs and maybe’s”…………..
Julie says
as always, Katrina, spot on for me. I’ve thought so many times about, “whose story is it? Do I have the ‘right’ to tell this story?” I love that you thanked your friend for her concern about Marie, and then proceeded to tell what you needed to tell. We all have stories that we need to tell.
sarden says
The lesson:
The courage to speak our own truth & share it is profoundly transforming.
Thank you for sharing yours Katrina & Marion!
marion says
Hi, Sarden:
So glad to read you here at the blog.
You are very welcome, indeed.
Please come back soon for more in this series.
Best,
Marion
Patricia Ashworth says
Wow! Katrina wrote the the answer to a question that has kept me from starting my memoir. What will my dear family, friends, and neighbors say about my memoir when I write about the experience. But Katrina’s advice is so honest and fair – it has given me the motivation and strength to get started on my first memoir. Thank you!
Lisa Romeo says
As you say, Katrina, “And, for better or worse, this is the rendition of the truth that will survive, because it happens to be the one that got written down.”
This is what we have to remember. That our words and versions of things may live on as *official* simply because they may be the only words about something or someone.
Great series, Marion – thanks!
marion says
Hi, Lisa:
You are so welcome.
This is great fun for me. And, I’m learning so much about my favorite genre.
Hope to read you here again soon.
Best,
Marion
Laurie says
Katrina keeps in real and simple, while being considerate of others. Love her writing.
Patricia Shinaberger says
Thank you for that teeny tiny confession that you changed the detail of the raisen to chocolate chip because the sentence flowed better!! I’ve been writing memoir for about five years now and have been so tempted to do the same but have always “chickened ” out….
Thank you Marion for these lessons and for a taste of other memoirs
marion says
Hi, Patricia:
You are most welcome.
It’s such a joy to share great memoir.
Please come back soon for more.
Best,
Marion
Josie Lombardi says
I came to Writing Lessons via Katrina as I have been following her for a while now. I read the comments to her article in the beginning mainly out of curiosity with no intention of posting myself even thought the enticement of a possible book to be won enticed me. I write now because I have to tell you, I truly enjoyed the comments. They were for me a revelation and so rich and true and inspirational. Thank you one and all for your candor. And once again thank you Katrina for so honestly sharing your life with us. And thank you Marion for this great blog.
marion says
Dear Josie:
You are most welcome.
Many thanks for coming by.
Please keep coming back for more in the Writing Lessons series.
I have some fabulous writers lined up.
Hope to see you here again soon.
Best,
Marion
Rene Jantzi says
I recently discovered Katrina Kenison’s books and blog. She can put on paper the thoughts and emotions swirling in my head and heart. I would love a copy of her book. Thank you!
Deborah West says
Fear of what others will say in judgement sometimes keeps me from letting loose and letting go. Thank you for your honesty of listening to the comment of your friend, taking a deep breath and going forward to recognizing and honoring your friendship with Marie. When we feel deeply about another soul and acknowledge the journey of time we spend together we are tethered in mind and spirit forever.
marion says
Congratulations, Deborah!
You are the winner of this week’s book.
Many thanks for coming by, and adding your wisdom to the fine discussion.
I’ll be in touch offline to send along your book.
Martha Schaefer says
Just finished my first memoir. I had no help along the way and am now finding a wonderful community of writers who have cleared the path before me and are giving back.
Thank you Katrina and Marion for this post and your wisdom.
marion says
Dear Martha:
Congratulations on your completion. Such great news.
Please come back again soon for more Writing Lessons.
It is a joy to offer them here.
Best,
Marion
Linda Rosenfeld says
Enjoyed reading both Katrina’s and Marion’s websites. I love catching up with Katrina’s life and family because I’m at a similar stage and I always feel that I learn something new when I read her stories.
I have found in my own family, when my brothers and I wrote my parents’ eulogies
we all had slightly different perspectives of the same events. We were all there, and even though we had participated together, we had each noticed different things.
Thank you for your wonderful insight.
marion says
Hi, Linda:
Thanks for the kind words about the website.
Please come back for more Writing Lessons. I’m learning so much.
Hope to see you here again soon.
Best,
Marion
Julia Conaghan says
After reading this post I realized once again that in writing as well as life there is much more gray then black or white.
Marie MacKenzie says
Thank you Katrina for sharing your life. When my boys were small I often expressed my anxiety, fears and joys through poetry. I always felt life was rushing by too fast and thought that if I could capture and freeze that moment of ordinary experiences, that foolishly I could somehow slow it down. Well, now my boys are grown men and obviously I never could slow it down by writing a few words on a page. But these poems do take me back to that time, that day, that moment that otherwise may have been forgotten, or worse, remembered simply as an uneventful day. I love your “stuff”. It comes straight from the heart and I know that is why I can relate to it so well. Keep it up!
Elizabeth Marro says
Both parts were perfectly timed today. I sat across from my son as he read someting I’d written, something I’d given him a chance to read beforehand. He hadn’t and was busy noting two tiny errors when he came to a halt and then looked up and said nothing at all. He just looked at me. I didn’t know until then that I’d touched him as deeply as I’d hoped to.
The excerpt was wonderful. Today marks the birthday of a friend of 35 years who died last November. That silence has indeed become a presence. It visits me daily. I wonder if it always will?
Diane says
Thank you for sharing this writing lesson and your helpful advice. I have read all three of your books, Katrina, and would love to own Magical Journey. Congratulations on completing this third one. You are an incredible inspiration to so many of us in so many ways!
melody says
Ah…..Katrina, you just keep doing it….writing, inspiring, teaching, leading….pointing the way. You are FABULOUS and I will forever be ONE of your biggest fans. I’d like to claim “THE biggest fan” status, but I know there are just too many of us out there who cannot get enough of you and your beautiful soul on the page.
Kim says
Thank you for sharing the excerpt from your new book. I can’t wait to read it. Also, thank you for your advise about writing about family and friends, a touchy subject indeed. I enjoy your words and ideas. Thank you for writing what’s in your heart.
Judy S Blackstock says
I like the examples you use, especially the comments of your friend expressing concern on your essay of the friend who died. How others perceive what we write is a big topic of discussion in our memoir group and I’ll happily share your article with them. It was good to be reminded to write the truth with kindness. Thank you.
Jenn M. says
I never thought about what it would be like for a writer to have to consider the emotions and thoughts of so many other people, children and husbands and friends. How their ideas and past visions may differ greatly from ours, and then how to decide to move on–to change, to honor, to thank, to publish? How we all look at the world through separate lenses, how we blend these visions, what sights we hold on to, and what shifts in our own visions over time. I am new to your writing and have been very touched by your words of honesty.
Liz Raptis Picco says
Thanks for this post, Marion. Can’t believe I hadn’t come across Katrina Kenison before today! And wish I’d read her books while I was writing mine and wrestling with journal entries and multiple drafts muddled by the myriad of my own emotions and family feedback.
I’d never truly realized how the process of writing down my experiences were also my laying claim to them. A Katrina nugget: “Putting words to an experience is also a way of owning it: This is what happened.”
I’d love to have Magic Journey accompany me on my next stories.
marion says
Hi, Liz:
You are more than welcome.
Yes, Katrina is a grand help to all of us who write memoir.
Please come back for more of the upcoming writers in Writing Lessons.
Let’s all learn together.
Barbara McGraw says
I liked the way you defined memoir, that it is really a story of relationships. I never thought of it that way but now I see it. I think it says a mouthful about the way we see the past. I notice when I write about my childhood my grandfathers are usually on the page. I think I have finally realized how special they were to me. It’s the small things I remember most, nothing grand or dramatic. I think the more you love someone the easier it is to pull a story out of almost nothing.
Ardis says
Wow, what a great site and very timely to find. I’ve been a follower of Katrina’s writing and blog for quite a while. I published my first piece, a memoir novella, as part of a compilation last year. After the manuscript was accepted, my first thought was ‘what have I done?’ I was worried about being exposed. I felt naked. But people resonate with the vulnerability.
I also had discussions with my husband about his different perspective. It was eye-opening. As a new writer, I am finding that I write the first draft for me. The edits take into consideration the relationships of those affected by it. And hopefully I can do it all justice.
It was refreshing to read Katrina’s insights and know that I am not alone in my memoir writing struggles.
marion says
Hi, Ardis.
Welcome to the site. I am so glad to meet you here. Congratulations on your own work.
Yes, writing memoir is a struggle, but one worth having, I think.
I hope you’ll come back for more inspiration and help.
Best,
Marion
Lisa says
As always I am moved and inspired by Katrina’s words……. And now following the unexpected loss of a beloved family pet, I’m reminded to appreciate those in my life even more. To learn how to pause, enjoy, witness, experience fully and compassiontely.
Mary Lunnen says
Katrina, as a novice memoir writer I found your exploration of how you navigated the concerns f friends and family very helpful.
Thank you
Donn King says
I appreciate the insights into your personal process, and the basis on which you make decisions. I happen to be writing a narrowly focused memoir ebook about my disabled 10-year-old daughter and her journey. It’s a unique problem because she is nonverbal, and so unable to express any opinions about what I write about her. I feel an extra responsibility both to be honest for the isolated parents of other disabled children, and also to respect my daughter’s individuality and privacy that she cannot. The principles Katrina examines will help me to make my own decisions about what to include, what to leave out, and what to shape. Thank you!
Cheryl Mathieu says
I am a big fan of Katrina. The gift of an ordinary day, although the individual stories may have been different, the feelings associated with the events came close to mirroring my own. Thank you for sharing and writing your memoir!
Patricia Battaglia says
A wonderful reminder of the power of words and why it’s important to choose them wisely.
Cindy says
Katrina, thank you for teaching us about courage. Courage to write your own truth and your friend’s courage in facing her cancer. Beautifully written.
Lisa Brown says
Love reading all the comments and knowing there is a village out there with people like me.
alphabetstory says
What a wonderful story about Marie. Thanks to writers who portray the truth with wisdom and kindness
Joy Walker says
After reading Katrina’s brief excerpt, I felt rather than Katrina owning her, Maria was a part of her. Surely the void Katrina described is only created when death swallows a part of our heart.
Patricia Shinaberger says
Thanks for the advice…Draw a circle of safety around yur loved ones and write right up to the edge.
Also, your comment about the spouce who notices the same objects differently. from you…..made me smile
marion says
Hi, all.
This contest is now closed.
Wow. What a great deal I learned from reading Katrina. My hearty thanks to her, and to all of you for coming by.
Please check out this week’s writer, the great Kate Richards, author of Madness, A Memoir.
Our winner for Katrina’s book is Deborah West.
Congratulations, Deborah!