A Memoir Is a Turkey
November 26, 2020 § 14 Comments
Your memoir is a turkey. The surprisingly beautiful plumage, the majestic strut, the delicious meat beneath the feathers, the hidden goodness all the way down to the bones.
So often, to get to that goodness, we need an axe. As with turkeys, memoirs often call for dismemberment of the past, careful plucking, and a great deal of dressing to present the important parts for the feast. Garnishes. Good china. All so your friends can gasp in admiration (via Zoom, this year!) and your mother can suggest you should have used more salt. Or less salt. Or at least left out Cousin Sue.
Our holidays this year take extra effort for community. Effort, perhaps, saved from shopping, cooking, cleaning, traveling, and the forced gaiety of a table full of kin instead of family-of-choice. This year, anyone you’re seeing, you’re seeing on purpose.
We see you. We share this rough year, and we’re glad you’re our community. Glad you read, glad you write, glad you share your words with us, and Brevity’s words with your friends.
Thank you for contributing to our mission with your talent, your attention, your money and your time.
And always, thank you for writing, for reading, and being part of the creative nonfiction and memoir world. We’re here for you. Thank you for being here with us.
Happy Thanksgiving,
Brevity
Interesting post. I never thought of a memoir being like a turkey.
Thank you, too, Brevity, for always offering such inspiring, insightful, and encouraging posts! And Allison, this was just perfect for today!
You’re welcome and happy thanksgiving!
Great line — “This year, anyone you’re seeing, you’re seeing on purpose.” Speaks to intentionality, a practice I would like to apply broadly in my life.
Thank you, and Happy Thanksgiving!
Big thanks and gratitude to you, Allison, to Dinty, and the rest of the staff at Brevity. You make our writing lives richer. Same to our greater Brevity family.
I’m going solo this year. Putting up holiday lights to make the house festive. Good music, a walk, some reading, helping a dear friend put up her lights. Strong coffee, steel cut oats, a nice sandwich for lunch, a Samuel Smith Winter Welcome Ale late afternoon as the lights begin to shine. And some writing.
Big love to everyone and thanks for staying safe. We can do this together.
xoxo
❤
Thanks Michael.
That sounds marvelous – happy thanksgiving!
Loved the metaphor!
I loved this, Allison. You are the queen of metaphor!
Well said, well written! A great read!! Thanks for providing the outlet @ Brevity, for us all to take part. in Stay well 🙂
And if your memoir is a turkey, it helps to know where to find the choicest bits, like the sweetest meat of the turkey called “the oyster,” found on the underside of the thigh, a small medallion of the tenderest dark meat.
“Dismembering the past” is a phrase so weird and dark and true that I am now writing it on a sticky. Something about it feels wild and liberating.