Memoir is a unique opportunity to revisit yourself. I don’t mean by memory. I mean in the revision process. You don’t just write a chapter and that’s it. You must constantly return to it. You must dote on it. And even if it’s saying something ugly about who you are, you have to find the poetry in it. You have to find the poetry in yourself.
~ Joshua Mohr
Oddly, my initial reaction to the thought of writing a memoir is one of, but who the hell would want to read about me? That is quickly followed by the realisation that I have been writing this blog, largely about me and my life, with some fiction writing mixed in, for nearly 14 years now. During that time it has notched up approx 3.5 million visits so I am guessing there are a few people who are maybe interested in my words and pictures. Of course the imposter syndrome voice that lives in my head can just be heard whispering, they just come to look at your tits. I know that is not strictly true but also even if it is, so what? I have nice titties.
Despite that, this blog is not a memoir. Not really. It’s just a snap shot. Yes it is absolutely me but there are parts of my life left out. My family relationships, particularly parents and kids. And much of my past relationships, before the blog was born. Those people have not consented to being shared here and/or they are from a time before this blog existed. I have written about some previous sex encounters as it was possible to do them in such a way that no one was identified and I have written about being a parent but with the focus on me and not on them. In fact one of the reasons for having a pen name was also to provide them with an element of privacy and deniability if for some reason they needed that.
There are other things I have not written about or don’t write about. Despite seeming to over share here there is a lot of life that I am private about or there are people involved whom might be impacted by what I write or have not consented to be part of this sex blog of mine.
I fear a true memoir strips away that shrouding. Everything is fair game. Otherwise what is the point? If you are not going to be raw and real and brutally honest with yourself and therefore the reader then it is just a saccharine version of the events and there is tons of celebrity memoirs, and sex memoirs, doing that without me adding to the noise and also, well if I ever did, just like here, I would want it feel real and authentic and like the quote says, even if it says something ugly about me, but OK with that. I hope I could do. I would want to do that but that also means it might say something ugly about other people and I think that is the part that would also stop me. I am not sure that serves anyone, most importantly me and my happiness and peace.
So would I ever? We all know that I am gonna say, never say never because who knows. Maybe one day in the future I will feel differently and also have the time to dedicate to such a project but I have to say I am doubtful. I think this here *waves hand at my blog, is probably as close to a memoir as I will ever get. I have been thinking a lot lately about whether I am a writer or a photographer. I think the answer is both but the truth is, often the words fail me, but so far, the camera never does. I love writing this blog but I love the photography element even more and if that becomes my legacy I will be happy and proud of what I have created here. Tits and all.
2 comments
Tits for t’lads! (and ladies)
I did a memoir project a few years ago on my blog and it was an interesting exercise — the things I remember, and how I remember them (and assign value to them) was somewhat different than I expected.