Inspiration dawned on me this week, and I began writing a memoir about my childhood. It is disturbing, gritty, and brimming with some shocking things you probably didn’t know about me. Even as I write it, things come to me that I’d completely forgotten. Memories resurface and emerge on the screen, and I’m amazed when I realize how much I’ve buried in my subconscious, hoping to forget.
The memoir focuses on my childhood, family dysfunction, and alcoholism. I’ve hidden a lot over the years, and I think that’s what’s making my writing suffer. So I’ve decided to let it out on the page, no matter the consequences.
The little voice in my head whispers, what will people think?
And the new voice in my head shouts, who cares what people think?
There’s a reason why I call myself the Backwords Writer. You’re about to find out why.