Beth, it is so very hard to know what is in the minds of others. It took me a long time to write this post, and a long time to decide if I should post it. But in the end, as I have noted elsewhere, I've lived this small life of seeking, trying to learn—and not in pursuit of memoir fame and fortune. it's my ideas that I have tried to bolster and share, and it felt right, after much consideration, not just to defend them but to share them. Thank you for being near all these years.
Wow, Beth, that is so harrowing. Especially her response to you! I am so sorry this happened. But you hae the wisdom, and you give it away for all to benefit. So many harm and so many will. Your presence and legacy stand firm.
I am grateful, AE. So grateful. It's funny because I really do feel, in so many ways, that I am at the end of my teaching career. The question became, for me, whether I wanted to go out beneath the stomp of another's foot. I decided, after many months of wondering, that I did not.
How stunningly awful that a writer and former reader would celebrate her own book by faint-damning yours in so personal a fashion. I took a stab at identifying her but am not dogged enough to sift through all the memoir guides on Amazon. As a reader and writer of memoir and admirer of HANDLING THE TRUTH, I agree that the art of memoir is opening a portal to the universal from the writer’s particular experience. I tend to read more memoir than fiction because I know the writer has lived her story, entered into its most unsettling, perhaps even fearsome corners, grappled with its meaning and distilled some truth that comes to me like a gift. The act of reading transforms the writer’s own story into the reader’s, an irresistibly fascinating process to all of us memoir people. I’m glad you wrote this and look forward to your take on a related matter: Is memoir a lesser genre because it’s all about self-absorption?
Rona, thank you so much. In the end, it wasn't important to me to name this person or her book. I wanted to set a record straight without hurting another. Those who have read her book will, perhaps, give me a benefit of the doubt, should they also somehow miraculously find this post. (The chances of that are slim, but perhaps one or two will find this.) And oh, I'd love to have this conversation with you. There is, in my mind, no lesser form, only more or less artful approaches to each specific work. I think memoir can be the obverse of self absorption, if we pursue the universal as we write.
What a conversation that would be. My husband wishes I would nwrite something else, so I have thought about this often and deeply. To be clear, I think it’s entirely appropriate that you wouldn’t name this writer—and only human that I’d be curious, if only with a view to avoiding any book she writes.
Love this. Love this graf so much: “I believe that meaning emerges in memoir when the writer presses pause on the anecdotes and scenes and wonders out loud, or establishes a theme, or hints at what has been learned or cannot be learned, or attempts to articulate one small aspect of the confounding human condition. When the writer says, to the reader, you are not alone.”
I am appalled to hear of this totally unfair treatment. If the author felt the need to attack you, she must not have enough to say herself. I wouldn't care to read that. I despise meanness. Just know that after following you for a very long time (a decade?) I know that you are trustworthy and in possession of great knowledge and the beneficent desire to pass it along. That counts for something in my book. Stand tall and send that author love. She clearly needs it as most haters do. (((Hugs)))
This kind of plagiarism is confounding and confusing. To steal your work, liberally misquote you, and then seemingly beg for your attention. In one sense, it seems to me that this person has elevated you in her mind to some sort of nonhuman celebrity and public figure for whom any kind of attention is flattery. As if you are a Kardashian of literary memoir, and not the actual person who comes to life in your books. I’m sorry that happened. Handling The Truth is a terrific book – and I suppose the downside of creating something so excellent is that jealous people will target it.
Reading this caused me to think more deeply about what a memoir about my life would say beyond the "this happened, then that happened." My thoughts on my own experiences change by the decade. I end up having "another think coming," and I often wonder if, I actually published a memoir, what "thinks" would come in the years following its publication.
Linda, yes — to all of this. This is why we keep writing, why we keep questing. If you haven't read it yet, I STRONGLY recommend Sallie Tisdale's essay (collected in this year's outstanding Best American Essays) on how memory works, keeps changing, and keeps changing us.
My goodness, Martha. Thank you so much. I love having your comment here, as the darkness of this day cedes. I kept writing and rewriting and rewriting this. Wishing I had pages more. Knowing how little time we all have.
Because you read so many memoirs, because you've published so many books teaching others how to write memoir, because you possess so much empathy, because you're such an incredible writer, such a poet, such a visionary, that person who took from you and did something yucky with it felt she needed to try to rise to your level. But she failed, obviously.
Beth, you point out in your last paragraph that the questions, again and again, are more important to the human condition than the answers. Thanks for your perspective on meaning. It's helpful to me in this time of confounding grief.
Yes, I have been thinking about this — thinking about how searching for meaning, for purpose, for truth is so much more radically necessary at this particular time. It will keep our many parts from being flung out into the wind.
I feel this right now too. Legs akimbo against the wind. Struggling for breath for myself, for those who will suffer much more than me. Relative to your opening story on this post, I'm sorry that writer who sent you their book felt moved to treat you in such a way. Throwing shade into the universe seems an poor response to society's current situation/direction.
Yes, the perfect explanation for such a challenging aspect of writing memoir. I have just begun a year long journey to continue working on my memoir and realize universal meaning is exactly what is missing in most pieces I've written. I've obviously been too close to my subject and need to broaden my thinking. Thank you so much for sharing this today.
Deborah, I am so very happy to hear that this has been helpful to you. Just think of it this way. The memoirist is not an actor on a stage, set far apart from the audience. In memoir, a conversation unfolds.
So here we are again and again, with and without integrity and the scaredness of another’s words. When I was teaching internationally, my co-teacher had written a book which we used in our teaching. One of our participants in a European country, took the book, translated it, put their name on it, changed the cover, advertised and began selling it, thinking we’d never know across the pond. But another of our students saw it and alerted us. So sad because we freely gave away everything we taught, but not my colleague’s book which was already in seven languages. Sometimes ideas need to be defended, sometime not because people reap what they sow, and no one gets out without their karma. Integrity could be your middle name, Beth.
This idea of the writer "pressing pause on scenes and anecdotes to reflect and wonder out loud" is the very thing that keeps me reading. And I learned that from YOU many moons ago. I can even remember the book everyone was raving about then. I couldn't understand why I wasn't feeling the same response. I didn't have the language to articulate what was missing (reflection!). It was such an aha moment for me when you talked about this in one of our classes.
You've taught me not only how to be a better writer but how to be a better "reader."
Sue Ann — first. The Safekeep! Oh, Yes. WHAT a book. What a work of art. And, I am so glad, I am so grateful, that something I have gleaned and shared made its way into your heart and work.
When you come from your soul, from the place that is your truth, without an agenda, with only hope to understand why you are here and how you might make even the slightest difference, and then you share that journey....That's what you do, Beth. Grateful for all I've learned from you.
Beth you are a visionary. A poet of the heart and soul and mind. And you are a beloved mentor to me. I was just playing with the word quest in a family history chapter I'm working on. And then I saw the you used the word questing here, and thought to myself, Beth is always teaching me. May I always be blessed to channel your wisdom. Love, Me
Beth, it is so very hard to know what is in the minds of others. It took me a long time to write this post, and a long time to decide if I should post it. But in the end, as I have noted elsewhere, I've lived this small life of seeking, trying to learn—and not in pursuit of memoir fame and fortune. it's my ideas that I have tried to bolster and share, and it felt right, after much consideration, not just to defend them but to share them. Thank you for being near all these years.
IMO no one stands above you when it comes to talking/thinking/explaining/breathing the art of memoir. Exhibit A: this piece.
I adore you, Leslie. Thank you. So much.
100%
Thank you , Julie. Thank you.
Wow, Beth, that is so harrowing. Especially her response to you! I am so sorry this happened. But you hae the wisdom, and you give it away for all to benefit. So many harm and so many will. Your presence and legacy stand firm.
I am grateful, AE. So grateful. It's funny because I really do feel, in so many ways, that I am at the end of my teaching career. The question became, for me, whether I wanted to go out beneath the stomp of another's foot. I decided, after many months of wondering, that I did not.
How stunningly awful that a writer and former reader would celebrate her own book by faint-damning yours in so personal a fashion. I took a stab at identifying her but am not dogged enough to sift through all the memoir guides on Amazon. As a reader and writer of memoir and admirer of HANDLING THE TRUTH, I agree that the art of memoir is opening a portal to the universal from the writer’s particular experience. I tend to read more memoir than fiction because I know the writer has lived her story, entered into its most unsettling, perhaps even fearsome corners, grappled with its meaning and distilled some truth that comes to me like a gift. The act of reading transforms the writer’s own story into the reader’s, an irresistibly fascinating process to all of us memoir people. I’m glad you wrote this and look forward to your take on a related matter: Is memoir a lesser genre because it’s all about self-absorption?
Rona, thank you so much. In the end, it wasn't important to me to name this person or her book. I wanted to set a record straight without hurting another. Those who have read her book will, perhaps, give me a benefit of the doubt, should they also somehow miraculously find this post. (The chances of that are slim, but perhaps one or two will find this.) And oh, I'd love to have this conversation with you. There is, in my mind, no lesser form, only more or less artful approaches to each specific work. I think memoir can be the obverse of self absorption, if we pursue the universal as we write.
What a conversation that would be. My husband wishes I would nwrite something else, so I have thought about this often and deeply. To be clear, I think it’s entirely appropriate that you wouldn’t name this writer—and only human that I’d be curious, if only with a view to avoiding any book she writes.
I would be so blessed by talking with you some day.
Love this. Love this graf so much: “I believe that meaning emerges in memoir when the writer presses pause on the anecdotes and scenes and wonders out loud, or establishes a theme, or hints at what has been learned or cannot be learned, or attempts to articulate one small aspect of the confounding human condition. When the writer says, to the reader, you are not alone.”
This is true of poetry too I think.
Our friendship is so rich, Lex, with conversations such as these. Thank you.
I am appalled to hear of this totally unfair treatment. If the author felt the need to attack you, she must not have enough to say herself. I wouldn't care to read that. I despise meanness. Just know that after following you for a very long time (a decade?) I know that you are trustworthy and in possession of great knowledge and the beneficent desire to pass it along. That counts for something in my book. Stand tall and send that author love. She clearly needs it as most haters do. (((Hugs)))
You are all here, near — and so, with you, I stand tall. Thank you, Beth —
Yes, we may get hurt,
yet may we not be pushed to
hurt them, or to hate.
...
Yes, it may be hard,
yet may we try to listen,
even to love them.
...
Them is us when lost,
when misguided, when asleep,
when disoriented.
This kind of plagiarism is confounding and confusing. To steal your work, liberally misquote you, and then seemingly beg for your attention. In one sense, it seems to me that this person has elevated you in her mind to some sort of nonhuman celebrity and public figure for whom any kind of attention is flattery. As if you are a Kardashian of literary memoir, and not the actual person who comes to life in your books. I’m sorry that happened. Handling The Truth is a terrific book – and I suppose the downside of creating something so excellent is that jealous people will target it.
The Kardashian of literary memoir. Oh, Karen! You have me laughing at this early hour, and also infinitely grateful for our long, abiding friendship.
Reading this caused me to think more deeply about what a memoir about my life would say beyond the "this happened, then that happened." My thoughts on my own experiences change by the decade. I end up having "another think coming," and I often wonder if, I actually published a memoir, what "thinks" would come in the years following its publication.
Linda, yes — to all of this. This is why we keep writing, why we keep questing. If you haven't read it yet, I STRONGLY recommend Sallie Tisdale's essay (collected in this year's outstanding Best American Essays) on how memory works, keeps changing, and keeps changing us.
Thank you for that recco!
Yes, I will find this book too.
Deborah....I googled "Sallie Tisdale" and "How Memory Works" and found an interview on the subject from her. It was informative.
Oh, good to onow know, thank you! I got caught up reading all the heartfelt responses here. I'll fo look now.
Thanks, Beth...I will read that!
Read the essay. Very humbling.
As an aspiring memoirist, this essay is more informative than any book I’ve read about the subject. Thank you for this.
My goodness, Martha. Thank you so much. I love having your comment here, as the darkness of this day cedes. I kept writing and rewriting and rewriting this. Wishing I had pages more. Knowing how little time we all have.
Because you read so many memoirs, because you've published so many books teaching others how to write memoir, because you possess so much empathy, because you're such an incredible writer, such a poet, such a visionary, that person who took from you and did something yucky with it felt she needed to try to rise to your level. But she failed, obviously.
Beth, you point out in your last paragraph that the questions, again and again, are more important to the human condition than the answers. Thanks for your perspective on meaning. It's helpful to me in this time of confounding grief.
Yes, I have been thinking about this — thinking about how searching for meaning, for purpose, for truth is so much more radically necessary at this particular time. It will keep our many parts from being flung out into the wind.
I feel this right now too. Legs akimbo against the wind. Struggling for breath for myself, for those who will suffer much more than me. Relative to your opening story on this post, I'm sorry that writer who sent you their book felt moved to treat you in such a way. Throwing shade into the universe seems an poor response to society's current situation/direction.
Oh so very true. We need all the kindness we can muster. Multiplied by everything.
Yes, the perfect explanation for such a challenging aspect of writing memoir. I have just begun a year long journey to continue working on my memoir and realize universal meaning is exactly what is missing in most pieces I've written. I've obviously been too close to my subject and need to broaden my thinking. Thank you so much for sharing this today.
Deborah, I am so very happy to hear that this has been helpful to you. Just think of it this way. The memoirist is not an actor on a stage, set far apart from the audience. In memoir, a conversation unfolds.
Oh, yes! I like that Idea as that makes so much more sense and instantly gives me focus. Thank you!
So here we are again and again, with and without integrity and the scaredness of another’s words. When I was teaching internationally, my co-teacher had written a book which we used in our teaching. One of our participants in a European country, took the book, translated it, put their name on it, changed the cover, advertised and began selling it, thinking we’d never know across the pond. But another of our students saw it and alerted us. So sad because we freely gave away everything we taught, but not my colleague’s book which was already in seven languages. Sometimes ideas need to be defended, sometime not because people reap what they sow, and no one gets out without their karma. Integrity could be your middle name, Beth.
You leave me breathless with wanting to find the words to thank you. So I will thank you. Just as simply as that.
First, I'm so sorry this happened to you.
This idea of the writer "pressing pause on scenes and anecdotes to reflect and wonder out loud" is the very thing that keeps me reading. And I learned that from YOU many moons ago. I can even remember the book everyone was raving about then. I couldn't understand why I wasn't feeling the same response. I didn't have the language to articulate what was missing (reflection!). It was such an aha moment for me when you talked about this in one of our classes.
You've taught me not only how to be a better writer but how to be a better "reader."
P.S. I just finished The Safekeep. Amazing book.
Sue Ann — first. The Safekeep! Oh, Yes. WHAT a book. What a work of art. And, I am so glad, I am so grateful, that something I have gleaned and shared made its way into your heart and work.
When you come from your soul, from the place that is your truth, without an agenda, with only hope to understand why you are here and how you might make even the slightest difference, and then you share that journey....That's what you do, Beth. Grateful for all I've learned from you.
Toby, thank you. And I am so very grateful to have had you on this journey with us, from the very start —
Beth you are a visionary. A poet of the heart and soul and mind. And you are a beloved mentor to me. I was just playing with the word quest in a family history chapter I'm working on. And then I saw the you used the word questing here, and thought to myself, Beth is always teaching me. May I always be blessed to channel your wisdom. Love, Me
How lucky I have been to have you near all these years. Thank you so much, Judy. And quest. And quest.