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TOTALLY TRUE. ALAS
How to Fail at Writing a Memoir
HELP!!
That’s it! That has gone and done it. The very idea that I could be shut down here on Medium in the blink of an automated purge has finally gone and done it.
I have decided I need a backup plan.
I know. I’ll start writing my memoir. Then, if they catch me clapping too much or leaving too many supportive emojis in the response columns, I’ll have another project on the go that I can fall back on.
Oh dear. I have just realised I don’t know any of the rules for starting a story. Except it shouldn’t start with “The” or anything about an alarm clock.
I know. I’ll Google the best literary opening lines and adapt them to fit. I wonder if anyone will notice that I have cheated.
Take one
Call me I̶s̶m̶a̶e̶l̶ privileged.
I was born into a middle-class family. There is no poverty, no tales of abuse to draw you in and make you feel empathy. And you certainly won’t be rooting for me when you find that, at age 9, I moved into a bona fide mansion that had a “west wing,” for goodness sake. The 10-acre garden had a lake with an island in the middle of it, I kid you not. My siblings and I were gifted powered Go-karts and mopeds to drive around the estate.
