My Grandma, Veronica (Mellish) Ellis was a writer. No one really knew this outside of the family because she was never published. She just filled out diary after diary, year after year. Who knows how long she had been keeping a faithful diary, but I know she told me once that she wrote something in… Continue reading Memoir Monday—Liar, Liar Pants on Fire?
One of the biggest reasons we write memoir is to tell our stories, but these stories also teach us about ourselves and our family histories. A good memoir not only tells a story, but describes the journey the author has been on which might include their own faults as well as the people who abused… Continue reading Memoir Monday–Skip the Rant and Make it a Story
Today’s blog is not a pretty picture blog because I am going to share some of the ugly reality about writing a memoir and dealing with angry relatives. If this is not your mug of mocha, please excuse this and know I will try to write about blue skies and fluffy koalas in the future,… Continue reading Memoir Monday–Angry Relatives
When I was eight and my family suddenly left the house we lived in to sleep in a tent at an abandoned sawmill, I had no idea what was going on. To this day, my parents have never told me what happened. What I do know is that we never went back to that house.… Continue reading Writing Memoir–Why I Can’t Keep Quiet
Today I decided that roasted marshmallows taste like manna. It's interesting how we sometimes get a chance to revisit our lives in full circle moments. Sometimes they’re good experiences and other times they can be triggering. Today I had a beautiful moment that could only be orchestrated by the benevolent heart of the Universe. I… Continue reading Encounter at Grouse Gap
In celebration of Mother's Day, I am sharing some excerpts from my upcoming memoir--sort of a memoir within a memoir about my paternal grandmother. You can the first two parts here: 1. Nana's Hands 2. Nana and the Heritage Singers A whole year had passed since we'd left our home to camp on that dark night and it had been… Continue reading 3. Nana’s Garden
In celebration of Mother's Day, I am sharing some excerpts from my upcoming memoir--sort of a memoir within a memoir about my paternal grandmother. You can read part one here: 1. Nana's Hands If you’d told me we were going to move to an Island where daddy would chop down the alder and fir trees, scrape… Continue reading 2. Nana and the Heritage Singers
For the first nine years of my life I had only two memories of my father’s mother. One was a sock monkey which she had hand-sewn, wrapped in brown paper and sent through the mail. The other was camping with her when I was four and we got up before everyone else to pick huckleberries. After we… Continue reading 1. Nana’s Hands