If memory serves, memoirs are hot
Lori Borgman | Monday, December 01, 2008
Why don’t we do this the easy way? If you haven’t
written a memoir, please step forward. Anybody? Somebody?
Memoirs are one of the fastest-growing genres
of books on the market right now. Publicists e-mail frequently touting
memoirs from wise and experienced people of notable accomplishment,
some as old as 32.
It used to be a memoir was a book that a statesman
or a person of life-long achievement usually penned in his or her
twilight years. There was an unspoken expectation that authors were
obligated to die shortly after penning their memoirs in order to
give their writings credence. They were books like “Memoirs of Napoleon”
or “Memoirs of the Empress Josephine.”
Today’s memoirs often follow the lines of Maureen
McCormick’s new book, “Here's the Story: Surviving Marcia Brady
and Finding My True Voice.” The book traces the dark and dirty side
of life in graphic detail leaving the reader saying, “Macia! Marcia!
Marcia! Gross! Gross! Gross!”
Nearly every president writes a memoir. They usually
have exciting titles like: “Memoirs of Harry S. Truman” or “The
Memoirs of Richard Nixon.” Herbert Hoover’s publishing house
must have been conserving ink because his was simply, “Memoirs.”
We live in far faster times today, as Barak Obama
has written two memoirs and hasn’t even taken office yet.
Marketing-wise, one of the best things you can
do with your memoirs is to lose them and have someone else find
them after you are dead, like “The Lost Memoirs of Charlotte Bronte”
and “The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen.” Memoirs can be dry, especially
if you came of age in a period of respectability, so having memoirs
discovered after you are gone can add a dimension of intrigue.
You would think writing a memoir would be an exhausting
experience. Augusten Burroughs wrote an acclaimed memoir in 2003
titled “Running With Scissors.” A year later, he wrote another memoir,
and three years after that he published yet another. The man must
pack a lot of living into a 24-hour day.
The most intimidating of the memoirs are the ones
about subjects that are unable to stand upright or use a knife and
fork.
“Dewey: The Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched
the World” is in the Top 10 nonfiction. It is a story about a librarian
who discovers a kitten that plays hide and seek, can read her thoughts
and is mortified by hairballs. A cat that intuitive should be teaching
relationship classes.
If you are bothered by the fact that a cat’s life
story is more exciting than yours, you may prefer memoirs by dogs.
“The Art of Racing in the Rain” is a fictionalized memoir of a dog
named Enzo. He is lab terrier mix who rides shotgun with a race
car driver. Enzo is frustrated by his inability to speak, and yearns
for the day he can be reincarnated as a man.
If both the dog and cat memoirs are a strain,
try “Exiled: Memoirs of a Camel.” It’s billed a first-person
narrative.
The future of memoirs may be in “Not Quite What
I Was Planning” a compilation of six-word memoirs. “Ancestors went
steerage. I take subway.” Or ”Cursed with cancer, blessed with friends.”
With memoirs reduced to six words, you can easily
crank out several a day.
I can’t decide between “Cook, clean, wash, dry,
fold, repeat” or “Life on hold for tech support.”
