Great essay. I suppose if one is a planner, they will decide first off what goes and what stays in the pan. I’m a pantster (is that what they call it?) I added every significant memory I could think of in my coming of age story, then went to snipping and shaping like a bonsai tree. There were some stories I loved, but I had to clip them away, otherwise there would be too many chapters that were merely cute (but unnecessary) antidotes. : )
Great points - this is one of the beautiful mysteries of memoar writing.
Thomas, Copenhagen
PS: This was part of a world tour; in fact one of the very few concerts I've attended in my life. My present wife and mother of my two youngest (then 3 and 1 1/2 years old) persuaded me to go to the concert. I was sceptical, but it was great to see this old man and his band.
It had been raining all day and we stood there under our umbrellas, but soon after he had begun, as on his command, the skies cleared -- and suddenly he stopped singing and went silent, looked beyond us and said: "May I draw your attention to the moon", or something like that. Thousands of people turned around, and there she was, thje full moon, breaking through the remaining skies. That felt as magic. https://www.leonardcohenforum.com/viewtopic.php?t=32625
Oh, I'm so glad you got to see the concert, too, Thomas! Tears are pricking at my eyes as I read the forum link you shared.
It was raining the night that Leonard was scheduled for me, too! We got up to the entrance of the venue and there were only a handful of cars. We were there early, but not *that* early. The stage was empty. No signs. I was so sad and confused. Then a stranger walked past and I asked what was going on, when he said, "Cancelled, cancelled, cancelled," my heart stopped. I asked, "Not rescheduled?" he paused and then, in an undetermined accent, he answered, "Yes rescheduled." I could breathe again. We shuffled our plans around to stay in Denver an extra night to catch the show. Whew!
The following night, Leonard welcomed us and said, "The last time I was here, I was just a kid with a dream." He let that sink in, then continued. "I was 62 years old." The crowd roared.
I love the imagery of looking at my memories for what shimmers..and what haunts us. As a new to memoir writing writer, I also resonated with so what? Beautiful writing and practical advice that shimmers! Thank you!
Great essay. I suppose if one is a planner, they will decide first off what goes and what stays in the pan. I’m a pantster (is that what they call it?) I added every significant memory I could think of in my coming of age story, then went to snipping and shaping like a bonsai tree. There were some stories I loved, but I had to clip them away, otherwise there would be too many chapters that were merely cute (but unnecessary) antidotes. : )
By the way, my hubby has always wanted to go to a concert at Red Rocks. Maybe I should surprise him!
It's an incredible place to see a show!
Like a bonsai tree! Love it!
Great points - this is one of the beautiful mysteries of memoar writing.
Thomas, Copenhagen
PS: This was part of a world tour; in fact one of the very few concerts I've attended in my life. My present wife and mother of my two youngest (then 3 and 1 1/2 years old) persuaded me to go to the concert. I was sceptical, but it was great to see this old man and his band.
It had been raining all day and we stood there under our umbrellas, but soon after he had begun, as on his command, the skies cleared -- and suddenly he stopped singing and went silent, looked beyond us and said: "May I draw your attention to the moon", or something like that. Thousands of people turned around, and there she was, thje full moon, breaking through the remaining skies. That felt as magic. https://www.leonardcohenforum.com/viewtopic.php?t=32625
Oh, I'm so glad you got to see the concert, too, Thomas! Tears are pricking at my eyes as I read the forum link you shared.
It was raining the night that Leonard was scheduled for me, too! We got up to the entrance of the venue and there were only a handful of cars. We were there early, but not *that* early. The stage was empty. No signs. I was so sad and confused. Then a stranger walked past and I asked what was going on, when he said, "Cancelled, cancelled, cancelled," my heart stopped. I asked, "Not rescheduled?" he paused and then, in an undetermined accent, he answered, "Yes rescheduled." I could breathe again. We shuffled our plans around to stay in Denver an extra night to catch the show. Whew!
The following night, Leonard welcomed us and said, "The last time I was here, I was just a kid with a dream." He let that sink in, then continued. "I was 62 years old." The crowd roared.
"The last time I was here, I was just a kid with a dream ... I was 62 years old." -- that's wonderful. I'll begin to use that :-)
It was so sweet and funny!
I love the imagery of looking at my memories for what shimmers..and what haunts us. As a new to memoir writing writer, I also resonated with so what? Beautiful writing and practical advice that shimmers! Thank you!
Thanks Jean! ❤️