Back when I was trudging through my memoir manuscript and dreaming of the day when I could say I was finished, my partner asked me a telling question.
“What will you do with the money if and when you get your book deal?”
At the time, this was a pie-in-the-sky conversation akin to contemplating what I’d do if I found a suitcase full of money on our lunchtime walk around the block.
“I have the freedom and time to write, so I don’t want much,” I said. And I meant it. “What I’d really want is to take my mom to Paris.”
My mom is an incredible artist in her mid-60s who deserves to see Europe sooner rather than later. This month, that dream came true—the trip to Paris…not the book deal.
Two years ago, I decided I didn’t want to place the financial burden of my Paris dream on my manuscript. So, I saved everything I earned from published essays, literary festivals and awards, and personal gifts. Then I made it happen.
A more accurate thing to say is that my moms and I made it happen together.
Another thing I need to let you know is that in January, I decided to shelve my memoir. I spent five years writing and revising, then another two tweaking query materials and pitching agents. I landed pieces in Publishers Weekly, HuffPost, and Salon. With each essay, I thought I’d finally arrived at the visibility and skill level required to sell my full story in today’s publishing environment.
But I haven’t. As powerful as it was to see a miniature, partial version of my memoir in HuffPost, it opened my eyes to some harsh realities. I have a major privacy issue in my manuscript that I have yet to know how to remedy outside the bounds of a 1700-word personal essay. And even three successful pieces in high profile publications don’t guarantee access to an agent or book deal.
I could keep going, like that first marathon I barely finished that went horribly wrong last month. But I’m tired. I did this project, and I’m done bulldozing it forward.
What I’ve decided to do instead is play. I’m taking the emotional truths I uncovered while writing my memoir and experimenting with communicating them through fiction.
This is the last thing I expected out of myself. In the past, I’ve been firmly opposed to writing fiction. What I didn’t know is that I had to get the truth out of my body, no matter the final product or financial outcome. Struggling with those memoir pages was the only way for me to see what I was hiding from myself and acquire the awareness to write something of depth, no matter the genre.
This blurring of boundaries in my creative life is demanding some shifts in what I read and write. Currently I’m obsessed with Kate Chopin (The Awakening and The Story of an Hour) as well as modern literary fiction writers like Deesha Philyaw (The Secret Lives of Church Ladies) and Lauren Groff (Florida and an NYT interview here). I’ve lost count of how many craft books I’ve read this year, including Story Genius by Lisa Cron and The Emotional Craft of Fiction by Donald Maass. I also submitted my first short story to a few literary journals and am working on my second story idea.
In light of these changes, I’m not ready to give up what I’ve created here at Memoirs with Melissa. I do, however, need a pause. After much deliberation, I’ve decided to take a temporary break from reviewing other people’s work so I can focus on creating what’s next in my own writing.
As of today, I’m pausing paid subscriptions until I feel ready to return. If you’ve paid for a yearly subscription, you’ll receive any remaining months when I start posting regularly here again. Monthly subscribers will not be billed until I return. Thank you so much for supporting my creative life and for learning about all the lovely authors I’ve had the privilege to read and interview here.
Au revoir. I’ll be back. Until then, happy reading!
OMG, I just did a post about shelving a memoir because of a privacy issue! And how it ironically opened my writing life in unexpected ways. You go!
I totally understand this and wish you all the best as you take this pause!