memoir or fictionalized truth

“Men’s memoirs are about answers; women’s memoirs are about questions. Most male authors want to look good in their memoirs and have a place in posterity, while most women know that posterity is what happens when you no longer care. Women want to connect with others here and now; they couldn’t care less about legacy!   –  Isabel Allende

 

Another way of looking at it: 

 

“I have always distrusted memoir. I tend to write my memoirs through my fiction. It’s easier to get to the truth by not claiming that you are speaking it. Some things can be said in fiction that can never be said in memoir.  

 –  Armistead Maupin

*

memoir or fictionalized truth

today

both feet

perched on the edge – a precipice

pulling stories together

exposing more than self

lighting a few candles

would be an effort in

futility

opting for the wrecking crew approach

deciding it was time

breaking down doors

wrenching skeletons

long entrenched

now meticulously scrutinized

committing their crimes

to print

my greatest transgression

bearing witness

for those who were silenced

giving them a voice

while finally trusting

my own

changing names

to protect those not

yet born

and only reality is left

defamed

*

 bisous,

léa

Author: Léa

A wanderer who has found home and herself in the South of France.

25 thoughts on “memoir or fictionalized truth”

    1. Thank you Christine. I’ve more than begun and have been wrestling with it for sometime now. However, life being what it is, there are always other things one must stop and deal with. It isn’t just sitting down and writing either. Actually, it is a journey and an education. I’m reading a lot of memoirs trying to see where this is going and what I don’t want to do! 🙂

      Love,
      Léa
      xxx

      1. Oh Christine, you are too kind and so very supportive. For me, I don’t know that it is about publishing, at least not at this stage. It is about getting it down. We shall see… 🙂

        love,
        xxx

  1. The quotes were perfect for my thought wanderings today
    and your poem transcends mundane thoughts into the possible dreams of
    what has been laying in stillness waiting…
    Wonderful post, I enjoyed it very much….
    Take Care…You Matter…
    )0(
    maryrose

  2. Wow, this is All so good–and has me pondering again whether I might benefit by writing my memoirs, even in fiction. It might finally get it all out of my head and heart, and stop haunting me already.

    1. We each have our stories and must decide if they are to be written by us or someone else. As for myself, I’ve had enough of others trying to “create” me in the image of their choice. Regardless of whether I decide to publish or not, at least I will exorcise those ghosts and skeletons. Writing is extremely cathartic. I wish you the best in your decision!

      1. Thank you–and I would NEVER let someone else write my story, for the very reason you mention.

  3. i think it’s wonderful if we’re able to write those things down…and making it fiction gives that certain security space as well… poetry for me does much the same..

  4. Powerfully moving as ever Lea, I could connect strongly with this piece. May you always have your voice 🙂 xx

    1. Thank you Becka! As always, I am thrilled to hear from you. For some reason, I don’t always get your posts so I am diving in for it now! 🙂 xx

      1. Ah I have had some problems getting blog posts via email too! Hopefully wordpress can sort it out 🙂 thanks Lea! xx

  5. Fictionalized truth…….sums up the difference between truth and fact…….truth is too large for fact…..metaphor expands to capture it.

    your poetry simply grabs my heart and ushers me into your experience……
    it’s your gift for distilling the essence in such a few words that thrills me.
    Pure Grace with a capital G……..Blessings……

    1. It is about this Herculean task of writing memoir. My best friends husband tells me I must fictionalise it due to its content. He is an attorney and trusted friend.
      Thank you for your kind words. The poems are like a cut that bleeds. A wound opened up and spills out without direction from me. Even the happy pieces come from deep within… Merci beaucoup!

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