Failed Memoirist but Proud

I'm back mishaps allowing.

-Mildred and Bonnie love the sun, Humphrey loves his ball

I am back and hopefully I will be posting regularly on not just one but two substacks - see below for my latest idea.

Although it feels very good to be producing yet another ramble down the rabbit warren, I have to be completely honest and say the last few weeks have been difficult, demoralising and down right cr&p. Not by any means the worst in my life and I know I am very very lucky to have the things I do. I hope you will allow me a little wallow in the mud of gloom. Adding to the gloom is the new shower I had installed last year has been leaking, causing the downstairs electrics to blow and possibly damage to floorboards etc. On the positive side it's only the overhead lights. All this means I still cannot have a shower, and the bath is impossible with one good hand, even without a cast my right arm is weak and stiff. As usual when I am not in a great place, I have holed up, not quite in the rabbit warren, my ample backside would definitely not fit, and the head honcho 🐇 was guarding the entrance 24/7.

However, there is light at the end of the tunnel and it is growing nearer, some days. My wrist, hand and arm are growing stronger. I can use both hands to type on my iPad. My hand, thumb and fingers are still very stiff and weak meaning I cannot hold a pen, nor can I draw and paint. My writing and painting are Mildred and Humphrey level 😂. Some may say that's nothing new.

I am so grateful for all my lovely friends and family who have braved eating in public with me - I am still not very good at one handed eating - and for all their lovely messages and phone calls. I have otherwise been the grumpy old curmudgeon residing in a hobbit hole surrounded by dogs, staying away from the world and bingeing on daytime TV. I would not recommend Hobbit holes during heatwaves. I can hear those of you from other parts of the world raising their eyes skyward ‘not another moan about the weather from a Brit.’

Having got all the cr&p and ‘woe is me’ rubbish, off my chest I will get on with my post and the reason for the title. I can now say hand on heart I am a writer and failed memoirist. I have written my book of 86,000 words even if I still have work to do. I have no regrets it records my memories and perceptions. It tells how I ended up where I am now, intertwined with John and Sarah’s stories as honestly as I can. I purposely left out those who are alive, unless essential for the story, they have their own stories to tell. I hope that some of my words and experiences would resonate with and help others and entertain. I have tried to tell our stories in a way that provides relief, hope and a smattering of humour.

I described the book in my one submission letter:

How Did I End Up Here? is a memoir recounting my life’s journey, dogged by the feeling of a curse placed on me and my family by a narcissistic, intelligent, successful, yet damaging mother. I look back over a life full of love, fun, traumas and animals. The curse strangely lost its power after the deaths of my husband, John, in 2018 of terminal cancer and our daughter, Sarah, from a stroke and brain infections during lockdown in April 2021. I explore how my childhood experiences provided me with a resilience toolkit to survive the tsunamis of grief, loneliness and other difficult periods throughout our/my life.

I have just realised that is not a great opening pitch. Okay, it is awful. I wouldn't have read any further than the first paragraph either. However, I wrote it and pressed the send key ✔️one for the achievement box. Unsurprisingly, the tumbleweed has been blowing, with my inbox devoid of any response from the agent desperate to pick up an old curmudgeon’s waffling. In my defence, I have not sent any more submissions as my broken arm got in the way.

Getting accepted on and doing the Curtis Brown three-month memoir course gave me hope that I am not a complete dud, someone saw a spark of a writer. I learnt so much from Rhik Samadder and all my fellow excellent writers on the course, and I felt very humbled. As I have said many times before, it gave me the confidence to kick Algernon, my inner critic, into the corner and complete my book. I would recommend undertaking a course if you are starting the memoir journey. CBC worked for me, but there are others, including many Substack writers.

Unfortunately, the memoir publishing is not in a good place at the moment and is not on the agent's or the publisher’s most wanted lists. Unless you have a USP, I doubt being an old curmudgeon is a big enough USP, or a ‘named’ author, you are knocking on a 12-inch soundproofed agent’s door to unlock the yellow brick road to success.

I have been pondering where to go with my memoir and my experience of writing a book. There are so many wonderful, successful writers on Substack with brilliant advice, built on experience, that us aspiring memoir writers can mine, digest and use.

Emma Simpson

Clover Stroud

Dr Lily Dunn

London Lit Lab

London Writers' Salon

Anna Wharton

Kate Spicer

and not a memoirist, but great advice on writing, getting published and the aftermath

Jennie Godfrey

to name but a few. I hear the cry - ‘What can you add?’. The reality is not much on how to write, but I can add a bit about how to fail with pride and provide a supportive Substack to keep writers writing because you love it, and for some to carry on and be successfully published.

I have come up with the title The Failed Memoirist and Proud. The aim is:

To provide links to resources and other useful Substacks, books etc

To provide a space to shout about writing successes - ‘I completed a chapter’

To commiserate when things may not be working - ‘I got another proposal rejection’

To get support when the brick wall rises, or your Algernon has invited all his friends round for dinner with a 30-piece brass band blocking all creativity.

I am also thinking of publishing sections of my memoir to encourage others and get bits read by others.

The downside is that, because of the nature of the content, which can be very raw and personal, I realise I need to put any chat and my memoir pieces behind a pay wall. This pay wall is not about money but about creating a safe space. My ramblings here on Growing Old will continue to be free and regular.

Question - what do you think of my idea? Honest answers, please.

Another potential nail in the coffin of memoir is Raynor Winn, aka Sally Walker, and The Salt Path. On Saturday, The Observer published a thorough investigative piece The real Salt Path: how a blockbuster book and film were spun from lies, deceit and desperation. The article raises the whole question of the honesty and integrity of memoir and various contracts between the author and others, including publishers, film makers, and, most importantly, readers. It raises massive cans of worms. Dr Lily Dunn and Anna Wharton posted a live substack discussion on Sunday morning, raising a number of these issues, it's worth watching/listening to.

Prompts - the issue of honesty in memoir affects both the writer and the reader.

How important in your opinion is the honesty and integrity of the writer’s memories and perceptions in memoir? As a reader and if applicable as a writer.

If you have read The Salt Path or seen the film, what is your initial emotion reading The Observer article or similar?

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