Adding Backstory to an Essay Collection

I recently read a memoir in which a woman shared a traumatic health emergency she ultimately survived. In addition to sharing this story, she also wrote about her background.

 

At first, I wondered if she added this background about her life in order to make the book an actual “book” in the event that her chapters documenting her health emergency were not sufficient. But as I read more about her background and everything else about her life leading up to the health emergency, I realized that it was a good thing she provided that background about her life, because it helped me to understand her and know her better. Of course, I do not know the author personally, but reading about her life helped me to get the full scope of what her life was like before, and after.

 

This made me think: Should I do the same for an essay collection I have been writing?

 

I have been working on an essay collection about my experience in sobriety, and I felt that it was a good idea to do so since I am going on my sixth year of being sober. Some people have asked me how I have managed to get this far being sober, so I thought it was a good idea to write about just how I have managed to do it.

 

But I am also writing my memoir. I am writing about my experiences of being a burn survivor, being a person who is deaf (and lost her hearing when 13 years old), and a person who has been coping with certain health issues – namely, panic attacks, a heart condition and a sleep disorder that have all wrecked havoc on my chances of getting and keeping a job. (The only job I have managed to keep despite all that? Working as a freelance writer! But, mainly, working from home, since I work my own hours.)

 

I am starting to wonder if I should combine the two books. If I should provide some background on the kind of life I have lived, my experiences that threw me deeper into drinking (plus a suicide attempt), and basically all the things I went through that shaped me into the person that I am today.

 

I will, of course, write about my experiences with alcoholism in the memoir, but now I’m wondering if I should throw ALL of those stories together into one book.

 

A part of me wasn’t sure if I should do it, because that’s like saying, “All of this bad stuff made me drink!” or “My crappy upbringing is to blame for my alcoholism.”

 

I don’t want to blame my life for my drinking problem. I don’t want to say “I was an alcoholic because of THIS!” or use bad stuff from my past as an excuse for why I drank. Yes, it did contribute to my drinking problem, but it’s not why I started drinking in the first place. I started drinking in the first place because EVERYBODY in my family drank! My parents, older siblings, in-laws, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. EVERYBODY DRANK! It was like an initiation into adulthood. Although, some of us started drinking before we were legally old enough to drink.

 

And the more bad stuff that happened in my life, the worse my drinking got. That’s all there is to it. The bad stuff did not make me drink, it just made my drinking problem worse.

 

Then I think, well, it’s easy to judge people you don’t know. Readers might see that essay collection on sobriety and wonder, “WHY did she even start drinking? Why did she keep drinking?” And who knows what kind of conclusions they would reach about me from that line of thinking.

 

Probably wrong conclusions. I’ve been judged by a lot of people my entire life, and they usually get me wrong. They usually don’t understand me, my line of thinking (which was at its worse during my drinking days), that I wasn’t raised the same way as them, that I grew up with violence in the home, and that I’m JUST NOT LIKE THEM. I don’t think the way they do or see things the way they do. People often misjudge me. They usually get me wrong. Very few people know the real me.

 

Maybe sharing some of my background will help people know the real me. And better understand things about why the alcoholism happened.

 

Not only this, but I could basically tell all my stories and share my success at sobriety in just one book. Maybe my success at sobriety and not so much my material accomplishments in life are the highlight of my story, and should go towards the end of the book. (My success at sobriety is definitely not the end of my story, though; there’s more to tell.)

 

The more I thought about doing this, the more it made sense. And the more it made sense, the more I was able to figure out the organization of the book. Yes, it could definitely work.

 

One thing is certain: I am not my past. I am NOT the person I used to be. The beauty of sobriety is that my thinking is clearer, and healthier. I am not what I have lived through; I am what I choose to become. I am not where I come from; I get to choose where I will go.

The Questionable Memoir

 

“Write a memoir.”

 

When that idea first struck, I thought it was crazy. Me? Write a memoir? Pfft. Why should I write a memoir? I’m a nobody. An unknown. And unrecognized person. I am not famous, wealthy or a public person.

 

I am just a writer.

 

Granted, I have been through A LOT of things in life, and a lot of those things shaped who I am today. I did try to commit suicide once, but I am not the only person who has been through such experiences. As a person with disabilities, I have experienced discrimination. I have endured abuse and struggled with alcoholism for years. But mine is not a unique story. I know there are people out there who have been through worse.

 

But, I do know that mine is not much of an ordinary life, either. I suffered 3^rd degree burns before I was 2. I became deaf when I was 13. And, apparently, being burned AND deaf has put me into a minority. In fact, I once got an email from someone who was also burned and deaf, and she commented that she hardly ever found anyone else like her, or like me.

 

This is very true. I also have not come across many people who were burned AND deaf. It has often made me wonder just how many of us there are out there.

 

And not only am I burned and deaf, but I also have a hand disability, which has compromised my attempts to learn sign language. (A lot of hearing people are shocked when I tell them I am not fluent in ASL. Fingerspelling and lipreading is how I communicate with hearing people. However, I know someone who teaches ASL, and I am communicating with her about how I can STILL be fluent in ASL even though I can only sign with one hand.)

 

Being burned and deaf has definitely created some interesting experiences in my life. Sadly, I have experienced discrimination on both fronts. I’m either discriminated against for being deaf or for being a burn survivor. I have had many negative experiences at jobs that had made me wonder if they were because I didn’t look all that attractive to those who acted out against me. I also wondered if I was turned down for positions or jobs because I refuse to cover my scars with make-up and present myself as I am, with burn scars on my face and everything.

 

So, yes, it is possible that my own memoir just might have some marketability. Maybe people will be interested in it. Hopefully, an agent would be interested in it! And I would hope that readers might be interested in it too.

 

I even have a title for it. The title actually captures a common name I was called in elementary school.

 

Still, I kept wondering: SHOULD I have a memoir? Do I deserve one? Like I said, I’m not famous. Who is going to care? On top of that, I haven’t even found my place in this world yet. Yes, I’m a writer who is getting my writing out there, but as far as having a “place” in society, some kind of position that is respected, that’s not there. I’m not a teacher, nurse, first responder, award-winning-something-or-other, or even a popular person. People don’t know my name. They don’t know who I am. I HAVE done volunteering in the past, but nothing recent. I’m nobody’s hero and nobody’s “special person.” I am not a celebrity or actress, nor do I want to be. I don’t want the spotlight, attention or adoring fans.

 

I am just a writer toiling away in obscurity.

 

And, yes, I KNOW I can change all that by putting in the effort to make those things happen, but I don’t WANT to be a teacher, nurse, first responder or award winner. I don’t want to be those things, because I just don’t fit into those profiles. I know I am meant for something MORE, but I can’t figure out what it is yet. I WANT to contribute, but I haven’t been able to find the right way to contribute. Sure, I write books and stuff, but that’s not enough.

 

Basically, I am asking myself: Am I even DESERVING of having written a memoir? My life is not at its peak just yet. I know there’s more to do, and more to write about.

 

But, even still, I am also wondering: Am I too young to write my memoirs? I am not even in my 50s yet.

 

But then I read this article in the New York Times and realized, you don’t need to be a certain age to write, or even start writing, your memoirs. 

 

 

So I started writing my memoirs. Just anything that I could remember.

 

That, too, is another thing. I wanted to write what I could remember, while I still can remember those things! I needed to get those experiences down, while they are still fresh enough for me to recall them in detail. (I strongly suggest that EVERYONE write down things they go through while they can still remember them, because the day will come when the memory is not so fresh in our minds. This is another reason why I encourage people to keep journals. A journal is the best source of information for recalling events in detail. Well, that, and a blog.)

 

I am writing what I can remember in this memoir. I know what this book should focus on, so everything that I write in it is about that focus. (I don’t believe in writing tell-all books, so I’m not putting into this book something it really doesn’t need.)

 

Yes, I am writing my memoir. I don’t know yet if it will be published or not. I don’t know yet if anyone will want to read it.

 

All I do know is that I must write it. And write it I am.

 

NOTE:

 

I wrote the above blog post over a week ago. The very next day, something happened. Something that I walked away from and suddenly realized, “That’s it!”

 

I know now what I must do with the rest of my life. I know now what kind of contribution I must make.

 

It WILL mean going back to school, but I am willing to put in that effort. And it will take time to get there, but I’ll keep going.

 

I know this is what I MUST do with my life now. And it all fits with a common theme in my life story: Taking a bad experience from my past and using it for something good. Something that will help others.

 

This won’t make me famous and I am just fine with that. I don’t want to be famous. I don’t do things to get attention. I can happily live my life without being famous, important or someone with a bazillion of admirers around the world. I do things because I feel that I must do them.

 

Writing my memoir is one of them.