Hi Shannon, What's the reaction been to your book in Alaska? Have people in your home state read your account with a different eye? And with all memoir that involves family, I'm curious how your family has reacted to your book and how that has affected you. It's a big decision to write about people close to you. How do you navigate that potentially rough territory? Thank you for the excellent read! Margot
Margot, thank you! I am just getting ready to head to Alaska next week to talk to people about North of Hope (and see good friends and go to a wedding of two amazing people!)
This is a tricky question. I'm nervous about the local reactions a little bit, in part because of the reality that any story has as many realities as it has people involved. This is true of memoir, though I suppose also of any writing involving people or a sense of place. But I've also come to a place of peace with that latter reality; North of Hope is my story, it's my narrative. Everyone in it has their own version, and that's ok, too.
The same goes for family; there is little mention of much family in most of North of Hope for a number of reasons, primary among them that it was not the story I was trying to tell. At the same time, I also know that there will be family members unhappy with my perspective on aspects of our family life from childhood or the difficulties with the traveling companion on the river, and I've also come to accept that it's ok if they take issue with the telling of these stories, either the fact of them or the way in which they are told. Again, we each have our own stories, and the best any of us can do is to tell a story as honestly as we can. I think for a writer, you should not write/paint/express until you're confident you can do so as honestly as possible, until you can remove yourself from these expectations of others in your work (and in your life) as much as possible. I'm not a psychologist, but I think this is also called differentiation. Of course, you also have to be honest about your own failings. Humans are messy creatures and life is a messy endeavor. A good memoir will reflect that. At the end of it all, though, I still think the life thing, all of us messy humans, are pretty beautiful.
I've also read another well known memoirist say that not only does she lose relationships in every book she publishes, the challenges she experiences in reactions have to do sometimes with people being upset about her portrayal of them even if it isn't them actually being portrayed at all; or someone else who might have been nasty who is upset about having been left out. So at the end of the day, you have to tell the story as best you can, as honestly as possible, and trust the integrity of the story, the power of the narrative, to overcome these other issues.
There's a great New Yorker cartoon showing an author signing her memoir at a reading; her parents are at the table saying "If we knew you were going to be a writer, we would have been better parents!" Funny, and a little painful, and for such a difficult question (and issue) maybe the best way to end this response- though feel free to let me know if I'm missing something!
What's the reaction been to your book in Alaska? Have people in your home state read your account with a different eye? And with all memoir that involves family, I'm curious how your family has reacted to your book and how that has affected you. It's a big decision to write about people close to you. How do you navigate that potentially rough territory? Thank you for the excellent read!
Margot
Margot, thank you! I am just getting ready to head to Alaska next week to talk to people about North of Hope (and see good friends and go to a wedding of two amazing people!)
This is a tricky question. I'm nervous about the local reactions a little bit, in part because of the reality that any story has as many realities as it has people involved. This is true of memoir, though I suppose also of any writing involving people or a sense of place. But I've also come to a place of peace with that latter reality; North of Hope is my story, it's my narrative. Everyone in it has their own version, and that's ok, too.
The same goes for family; there is little mention of much family in most of North of Hope for a number of reasons, primary among them that it was not the story I was trying to tell. At the same time, I also know that there will be family members unhappy with my perspective on aspects of our family life from childhood or the difficulties with the traveling companion on the river, and I've also come to accept that it's ok if they take issue with the telling of these stories, either the fact of them or the way in which they are told. Again, we each have our own stories, and the best any of us can do is to tell a story as honestly as we can. I think for a writer, you should not write/paint/express until you're confident you can do so as honestly as possible, until you can remove yourself from these expectations of others in your work (and in your life) as much as possible. I'm not a psychologist, but I think this is also called differentiation. Of course, you also have to be honest about your own failings. Humans are messy creatures and life is a messy endeavor. A good memoir will reflect that. At the end of it all, though, I still think the life thing, all of us messy humans, are pretty beautiful.
I've also read another well known memoirist say that not only does she lose relationships in every book she publishes, the challenges she experiences in reactions have to do sometimes with people being upset about her portrayal of them even if it isn't them actually being portrayed at all; or someone else who might have been nasty who is upset about having been left out. So at the end of the day, you have to tell the story as best you can, as honestly as possible, and trust the integrity of the story, the power of the narrative, to overcome these other issues.
There's a great New Yorker cartoon showing an author signing her memoir at a reading; her parents are at the table saying "If we knew you were going to be a writer, we would have been better parents!" Funny, and a little painful, and for such a difficult question (and issue) maybe the best way to end this response- though feel free to let me know if I'm missing something!