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Deciding to Write a Memoir, Guest Post by Sandra Bornstein

I met Sandra Bornstein after posting an author interview with Erika Dreifus, as Sandra was the winner of Quiet Americans. Sandra came to the blog as a reader, but today she shares her experience as an author. She’s crafted a lovely post about the challenge in writing memoir, and she’s giving away a copy of her new book, May This Be the Best Year of Your Life. Read Sandra’s guest post below, and leave a comment for a chance to win a copy. Thanks, Sandra, for sharing your experience and your book!

“Each of us is a book waiting to be written, and that book,
if written, results in a person explained.”
~Thomas M. Cirignano, The Constant Outsider

My decision to write my memoir, MAY THIS BE THE BEST YEAR OF YOUR LIFE, reminds me of the story of Pandora’s box. For decades, I had kept most of my life’s story private and well-contained. Only a few friends and relatives were privy to my childhood and day-to-day happenings. I was content to live beneath my own personal radar screen.

However, after having the unique opportunity to live and teach in a Third World country, my opinion changed. I was not prepared for the culture shock that I experienced. Monkeys in my classroom were never anticipated. Despite these unusual disruptions, I was able to share my multicultural expertise and teaching experience in significant ways. I was the only American primary teacher on the campus.

I had an inspiring story to tell. Similar to Pandora, I did not believe that the contents should be confined for eternity. I was curious.

Could I write my compelling story and keep an audience engaged?

Would it be worth the price of revealing my life to the public?

The mere act of writing about my life unleashed a flurry of memories. Some of these memories brought a warm glow of happiness while others rekindled periods of sadness, unfairness, and despair.

By having to confront the negative aspects of my life, I clung to the belief that others would benefit from the lessons that I learned from my journey. Amidst all of the evil that was released from Pandora’s box, she was able to locate hope. Likewise, I waded through my challenging episodes and sought out the promising and encouraging moments.

Even though I was telling my story, I had to look at each chapter with a minimal amount of bias. Without the help of my developmental editor, Joe Kita, it would have been much more difficult to find an appropriate voice and locate the major threads to my story.

Part of the challenge of memoir writing is to maintain a balance between retelling a truthful story and keeping your audience engaged. Far too many authors in recent years have excessively embellished the truth in order to sell more books. Maintaining my integrity throughout was always my intended goal. Elie Wiesel was absolutely correct when he stated, “I will say, with memoir, you must be honest. You must be truthful.”

If I was not going to be true to the facts, I might as well have written a novel. However, by adhering to the truth, I ran the risk of peeling back too many protective layers that had kept my life behind closed doors for decades.

But then again, isn’t that what makes a memoir compelling? It is those tender moments when the author reveals her inner feelings and connects emotionally with the reader. In so doing, the reader walks hand-in-hand with the memoirist and relates to the real life message of the story. The author’s life becomes fully illuminated.

Sandra Bornstein, an educator with four sons, was living her version of the American dream in Colorado when her peaceful and predictable life was jolted after her husband accepted a job requiring extensive international travel. Following a series of events, Sandra ended up living by herself in a 300 square foot dorm room while teaching at a world renowned international K-12 boarding school in Bangalore, India. She adapted to an unfamiliar environment, embraced her Jewish identity, and endured deteriorating health. In her memoir, May This Be the Best Year of Your Life, Sandra shares what she has learned about perseverance, travel, education, faith, and family.

Remember: leave your name in the comments. The winner of Sandra’s memoir will be chosen on Tuesday, January 22nd.

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Writer’s Resolutions or New Year’s Rally Cry

Here’s the thing about New Year’s resolutions: I could resolve all day long to do things like take my vitamins every day or exercise at least twice a week. In the end, I would still ignore the alarm that beeps on my phone every morning at 7am, reminding me to down the iron and calcium and what not. I would also fail to recover the pair of tennis shoes lost somewhere deep in the shadows of my closet.

Resolutions don’t work for me. But, mantras and mottos do.

When I made the decision several years ago to (seriously) pursue this whole writing idea, I did so with one phrase in my mind: Why not?

What’s the worst that could happen? I thought. I would fail? I was already failing to write by lamenting about the fact that I wanted to write stories and yet only put pen to paper in order to jot down a to-do list or scratch out an occasional journal entry. Why not just do it? Stop whining and start writing.

Why not sign up for NaNoWriMo?
Why not start a writing blog?
Why not contact that best-selling author and ask if she’d let me interview her?

In that year, I finished NaNoWriMo and got my blog rolling and off to a decent start. And that best-selling author I contacted? Beth Hoffman said yes right away and launched my author interview series. Beth has also become an author I want to emulate; she encourages emerging writers, even as she continues to receive accolades for Saving Cee Cee Honeycutt and prepares to release her next novel. Not every author holds a hand out to others. And, I might not have met this woman had I supressed my initial rally cry, Why not.

Why not gave me the initial push to pursue what I wanted, but over the holiday break, I fell into a lull. You know, that place all writers fall into, where we consider what we’ve done and try to figure out where the heck we’re headed. Then, I read a random mass email that opened with two motivating words, Fearless Writers, and it hit me. This year, I needed a new rally cry, one that would drive me to tackle goals with reckless abandon: Fearless writing.

When I say fearless writing, I don’t mean just finishing that short story or submitting that memoir piece. It isn’t only about completing the next big rewrite of my novel or finally compiling that collection of flash fiction pieces (though all of these things are part of the big picture). I say those two words with more intention. Fearless writing also means stepping out of my comfort zone, doing things that move my writing career forward in ways I want but have been afraid to pursue.

This week, fearless writing means filling out an application to work with some great writers in a position I want but am either 1) afraid I won’t get, because I’m terribly under-qualified, or 2) afraid I will get, and at which I’ll fail miserably, because I’m totally not qualified.

Fearless writing.

Nothing happens if nothing happens. I can never attain what I aim for if I never apply, if I never open the story file or write the query or send out my resume. Fearless writing means remembering that I might look down on my accomplishments (or lack thereof, if self-doubt takes over), while another person might very well see them as qualifications. Taking action, in whatever way leads me toward that thing I most want, is one way to push aside my fears. At least for the moment. And, if, in the end, nothing comes of my actions, at least I’ve had the practice of refining a story, of forming a professional email, of gathering a list of what I’ve done in the last year. Of recognizing forward progress.

What will you do as a Fearless Writer this year?

* Photo credits: “fist” from doctor_bob and “keyboard” from justcola, both on Morguefile.com
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From Writing Prompts to Props: Introducing Toshio Ninomiya

Great writers will always surprise you and leave you thinking of their stories long after you’ve reached the end. This is true of my friends at the Retirement Living Center, who came to our monthly writing class last Saturday with not only stories, but props in tow.

We wrote on cloth and memory, a prompt which drove them to search attics and storage rooms and the backs of closets. Each story they read was rich, absolutely. They filled the room with laughter and an amazing energy. I wish you could have been there.

As a “next best thing” to sitting at the table with me, I asked one of the readers if I could post his story. Toshio Ninomiya agreed. During his turn, Tosh prefaced his piece by saying, “In order to read my story, I have to put on this hat.” His eyes lit up then, and he cracked a mischievous smile. And, I thought, Oh my, this is gonna be good. Enjoy!

Old Hat

by Toshio Ninomiya

It’s a real old hat. I bought it for $2.50 about 70 years ago in San Francisco, just before I took a trip to Japan. Most men at that time wore hats and ties whenever they ventured into public areas, just as ladies wore hats and gloves. San Francisco was a very conservative and formal city at that time, unlike what it is today. I expected Japan to be even more rigid in the way its people dressed in western style.

I was sure it had hat stores in large cities, but I doubted most of them had English-speaking employees. I, on the other hand, didn’t know how to say hat in Japanese. I was glad I had the foresight to buy one beforehand.

I discovered in an English newspaper where I found a job, that everyone from the type setter to the managing editor wore a suit, tie and a hat. It was de rigueur, especially for a cub reporter who had to go out interviewing people, mostly foreigners to Japan.

That was just the beginning of the hat’s life history. The three years in Japan were nothing as far as it was concerned. It was the following decades of sitting on my head that took its toll, accompanying me from frigid Alaska to tropic Equador.

Eventually, it not longer had the sharp crease and the snappy brim that once provided a subtle touch of masculinity, male libido you might say, to its wearer.

The question then became what to do with it. It wasn’t like a pair of worn out shoes. It was my companion of many years, my alter ego. Consigning it to a garbage dump was unthinkable.

I made a decision to use it as my hat during fly fishing. Not only would it protect me from the elements, it would label me as a gentleman fisherman, unlike those who wear baseball type caps, that is, people of lower caste.

That too, came to past and the last four years it lay dormant in the storage room of Harwood Place, until yesterday. But from here on, it shall stay in my bedroom closet where I can take it out and put it on my head every once in a while, just for old time’s sake.

Tosh is a long-time member of the group and a published author, having had one of his pieces appear in Glimmer Train. I’m so grateful to him for sharing his work here and his stories with us at the table every month.

~

Next month’s prompt comes from Midge Raymond’s Everyday Writer:
Write about a time when something small – a chocolate bar, a smile from the right person at the right time, a martini – made you happy.