I, Me(moir), Mine
But enough about you…
“My semi-annual reminder that NOW is a really good time to pitch me your non-fiction writing project that is NOT a fecking memoir. In order to save our collective time: No memoirs. No essays trying to disguise the fact that it is actually a memoir. No autobiography. In fact, stop writing about yourself and how you feel about anything, everything.” - An Editor at a small “alternative” publishing house
The above, posted by a “friend” a few days ago on Facebook, threw me for a loop. This is not the first time this woman’s pissed all over memoir as a form. When she first did so a few years back I messaged her, asked why she was so down on autobiography. She mentioned the multitudinous book proposals she got from “…guys in bands who want to write about all the chicks they fucked.” Okay, then. It’s not like this particular publishing house would’ve been interested in NIHILISTIC. And not just because this memoir-hater is the gatekeeper (or, come to think of it, maybe that’s exactly why). What this publishing house publishes is more focused on art and music movements. If I was writing about the early New York Hardcore (NYHC) scene in total, maybe I’d have a leg up. But that book was already written (and it wasn’t published by this woman’s imprint). I’m after something else and I thought I was being clever calling it “A memoir with guitar.” It now occurs me to this memoir-hater is probably not alone. Mention memoir to many and watch them stifle an involuntary eye-roll. Okay, okay. I get it. I’ve done the same. So how do I avoid the memoir pitfalls? How do I write about Mike, myself, our past, and make it resound? Fuck if I know. I’m trying. It would be nice to have some encouragement. Which is why I unfriended Little Miss Memoir-hater.
Well, this has been an EXCELLENT pep talk, no?