Writing
Just the Facts, Ma’am
You need to post more information about yourself, my editor tells me. People need to know you.
Why? I ask. Whoever reads my blog knows me by what I write. The stories. The struggles. The voice and tone. What more is there to know?
It’s been a battle of the wills for months, but she will inevitably win. Writing a memoir is hard, the distillation of a lifetime through a funnel called Running, Community.
It starts in a blog, a series of posts, and expands ever outward, from blog to memoir to a compilation of runners’ stories woven together like a tightly knit shawl. To be complete by the end of summer. Draft 1.
The hardest question to answer: Tell us about yourself. Writing a bio of even three sentences is excruciatingly hard.
What is it people want to know, the facts (or the truth behind them)?
My favorite colors are blue and green (the colors of peace and tranquility—like floating under water, suspended by saline and waves; the only sound your breath, to know you are alive; surrounded by fish the color of the sun or the sky at dawn, a funnel cloud of rainbow eddying around you).
But this is no longer eighth grade and the relevant facts do not involve (so I am told) colors or music or movies.
Do they want to know the history (or the narrative)? Dates or events comprise the skeleton, stories connect the organs and flesh.
It takes a lifetime to build a body.
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