No pressure or anything, but this makes me so excited to read more writing like this from you re: the book you're working on at the moment - I just love the way you write when you write like this, in a vignette-like way, as you mentioned.
Sharing a moment / memory / thought, posing questions stemming from it, grafting a current thought about it onto the side until the original sentence has totally morphed into something new, but still with that kernel as the origin, and always the aura created is sort of mysterious - as if you know barely more than we, as readers, do, even though it's your life? I'm so sorry for rambling, and barely making sense here - I just appreciate and get a lot from this sort of writing about life and memory because it's exactly how I recall my own life, or what happens when I try to write about it. In vignettes that I doubt the reality of, in a way, that I almost have to ask someone else about. In saying one thing, you're able to almost immediately come up with a way in which your memory of it is wrong, or five other ways of possibly looking at it.
I can only imagine that the writing project you're in the process of is incredibly intense - a mix of moments of joy and remembrance, but a lot of heaviness, too. Forcing yourself to step into moments you'd hoped/planned never to revisit. I hope you can feel the support of this community (COMMUNITY) you've created with an encouraging, comforting hand on your shoulder in those moments. Thanks, as always, for your generosity and vulnerability in what you share, and how you share these snapshots of your life
The bittersweetness of memories are something else! As I have gotten older, it has been hard to remember a lot including those memories that I have blocked out. The process of revisiting the past can be overwhelming but also enlightening. I am looking forward to reading what you rediscover when your memoir is released! I really appreciated your thoughts on what it would be like to be born somewhere else. When you write...."all its possibilities, its potential stories, its shifted perspectives. U.S. schooling teaches us our nationās great exceptionalism; U.S. media shows the rest of the world as a starving, war-torn placeāor at least it did when I was a kid. To grow up is to either learn that the U.S. is often the one creating or enabling the conditions of starvation and war, or to burrow ever more deeply into the exceptionalism fantasy"....This part as well as the rest of that paragraph is so important and I want to thank you for writing it. There's so much to reflect on whether you're an American or an immigrant like myself. I have so many thoughts about it....something I wish people in my circle would be more open to discussing. History taught in different countries is something I often wonder about because I know what I was taught and I am constantly trying to learn and understand. Finding out which parts were embellished or left out is part of getting to the truth.....just like our own memories.
Oh, I think audiobooks while cooking (and cleaning) are lifesaving! I often read a physical book before bed, but will listen to the same title when I'm going about my day/unable to sit down and read. Doing both really works for me, especially with nonfiction. A lot depends on the narrator, but it's so great sometimes. :)
This post hit me hard. Memory is so goddam ethereal! Iāve been writing a series of food memoir vignettes for a couple of years now, and theyāre finally beginning to take shape in two separate projects. Itās been challenging since Iām the only one left in my family and the last in a legacy of female family food writers and have only my mumās and grandmotherās books, journals and sketchbooks for reference. I wish Iād been less self-absorbed when they were still alive, but also exhilarating to discover their beautiful work, and eventually share it with others.
Beautiful and so relatable. Excavating the ātruthā to write my book was a process of negotiation with my version and othersā versions (or my own contradictory version they might emerge a bit after writing something one way or another). My mom and I couldnāt agree on weather our first neighbors had chickens. A weird thing for me to imagine, but who knows! Iām very grateful so many memoirists reflect on process because itās such a strange task, the work of documenting memory.
Alicia, going through divorce this last three years has really opened up the cliche pandoraās Tupperware for me. YMMV but for me it was and is a painful process. You will get through the process and be happier and have more self-knowledge. And, like you š„°, many memories, medicine and mending is associated with food. The smell, taste, texture, location, of food is a constant in the skeleton of my life and progress. Ha! I havenāt even had a martini yet. šø
No pressure or anything, but this makes me so excited to read more writing like this from you re: the book you're working on at the moment - I just love the way you write when you write like this, in a vignette-like way, as you mentioned.
Sharing a moment / memory / thought, posing questions stemming from it, grafting a current thought about it onto the side until the original sentence has totally morphed into something new, but still with that kernel as the origin, and always the aura created is sort of mysterious - as if you know barely more than we, as readers, do, even though it's your life? I'm so sorry for rambling, and barely making sense here - I just appreciate and get a lot from this sort of writing about life and memory because it's exactly how I recall my own life, or what happens when I try to write about it. In vignettes that I doubt the reality of, in a way, that I almost have to ask someone else about. In saying one thing, you're able to almost immediately come up with a way in which your memory of it is wrong, or five other ways of possibly looking at it.
I can only imagine that the writing project you're in the process of is incredibly intense - a mix of moments of joy and remembrance, but a lot of heaviness, too. Forcing yourself to step into moments you'd hoped/planned never to revisit. I hope you can feel the support of this community (COMMUNITY) you've created with an encouraging, comforting hand on your shoulder in those moments. Thanks, as always, for your generosity and vulnerability in what you share, and how you share these snapshots of your life
The bittersweetness of memories are something else! As I have gotten older, it has been hard to remember a lot including those memories that I have blocked out. The process of revisiting the past can be overwhelming but also enlightening. I am looking forward to reading what you rediscover when your memoir is released! I really appreciated your thoughts on what it would be like to be born somewhere else. When you write...."all its possibilities, its potential stories, its shifted perspectives. U.S. schooling teaches us our nationās great exceptionalism; U.S. media shows the rest of the world as a starving, war-torn placeāor at least it did when I was a kid. To grow up is to either learn that the U.S. is often the one creating or enabling the conditions of starvation and war, or to burrow ever more deeply into the exceptionalism fantasy"....This part as well as the rest of that paragraph is so important and I want to thank you for writing it. There's so much to reflect on whether you're an American or an immigrant like myself. I have so many thoughts about it....something I wish people in my circle would be more open to discussing. History taught in different countries is something I often wonder about because I know what I was taught and I am constantly trying to learn and understand. Finding out which parts were embellished or left out is part of getting to the truth.....just like our own memories.
to opening the box š¬
Sending you patience and grace. Having just been through thisā¦itās quite a journey, and often a surprising one (both in pain and in joy). Go gently, eat well, and take long walks with the voice notes app as needed ā¤ļøāš©¹
Oh, I think audiobooks while cooking (and cleaning) are lifesaving! I often read a physical book before bed, but will listen to the same title when I'm going about my day/unable to sit down and read. Doing both really works for me, especially with nonfiction. A lot depends on the narrator, but it's so great sometimes. :)
Alicia this is brilliant and gorgeous. Your writing about memory is thought provoking and relatable.
This post hit me hard. Memory is so goddam ethereal! Iāve been writing a series of food memoir vignettes for a couple of years now, and theyāre finally beginning to take shape in two separate projects. Itās been challenging since Iām the only one left in my family and the last in a legacy of female family food writers and have only my mumās and grandmotherās books, journals and sketchbooks for reference. I wish Iād been less self-absorbed when they were still alive, but also exhilarating to discover their beautiful work, and eventually share it with others.
Love this - my mom also tells me I remember things wrong, I guess she has to be right š
Beautiful and so relatable. Excavating the ātruthā to write my book was a process of negotiation with my version and othersā versions (or my own contradictory version they might emerge a bit after writing something one way or another). My mom and I couldnāt agree on weather our first neighbors had chickens. A weird thing for me to imagine, but who knows! Iām very grateful so many memoirists reflect on process because itās such a strange task, the work of documenting memory.
What a beautiful article. Iām very thankful of the events that led me to subscribe to your newsletter. This is a gem.
Alicia, going through divorce this last three years has really opened up the cliche pandoraās Tupperware for me. YMMV but for me it was and is a painful process. You will get through the process and be happier and have more self-knowledge. And, like you š„°, many memories, medicine and mending is associated with food. The smell, taste, texture, location, of food is a constant in the skeleton of my life and progress. Ha! I havenāt even had a martini yet. šø
Iām pondering this.