Writing What You Know: part 2

There is no denying that at the center of memoir is an unreliable narrator. As I wrote yesterday,”Working with memory is even less faithful than fiction. There is nothing to google or investigate. Sure I can ask a brother or two, but I don’t remember any of them standing with me in that short hallway between the kitchen and my father’s den.” In memoir you stand alone, even if the subject of your work is the whole lot of you, you have only yourself to corroborate with.

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As I plunge further into my own murky and dark past I have only my instinct to rely on; here the tenants of fiction and non-fiction collide, for they are both born of the creative spark that ignites my fingers across the keyboard. Beyond that they deviate.

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Nine Cent Girl Anniversary!!

Yippee!! I’m still blogging after another year! Yup it’s true, I’m sliding past year 5, because, well, I clearly have a vast outpouring of words and ideas and blogging allows me to release all of that into the blogosphere. Thankfully after each post many of you click the like tab, others leave a thoughtful comment, and there are still others who let me know in person exactly what my blog means to you. No matter how you contact me, I am humbled by your continued support and am encouraged to keep tapping my keyboard and publishing every Thursday evening.

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A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

“The Wolf of Wall Street” ironically opened on Christmas, a day of giving with love, and has, ever since, stirred up much controversy over its glorification of an unrepentant thief, Jordan Belfort. an ex-stockbroker “convicted of fraud crimes related to stock market manipulation and running a penny stock boiler room for which he spent 22 months in prison” (Wikipedia). While I am happy to close the door towolf-of-wall-street04 this Scorsese film, I find myself struggling that others are declaring the 180 minutes as brilliance. Award season hoopla aside, let me ask you, how did you feel when you left the theater? Did you reach back for your coat to brave the outdoors with  sensations akin to the flu? Did you find being a voyeur to the unsexy-sex, drug-abuse and blow-out-debauchery an excellent use of time? I will admit right here, in my introduction, that this film left me angry, and even now, a week later, I’d classify it as dangerous. Shall we disrobe the wolf?

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