<<It emerged from the muck and mess of intergenerational trauma, and the writing of a century-old story that, unbeknownst to me, was meant to be hidden. It is the story of what happened — emotionally, physically, spiritually, professionally — when a writer’s world imploded as the result of telling a simple but dangerous tale about one young woman’s heart-rending decision to leave her family, and the decision’s aftermath.<<
Thank you for writing this, Elissa. I can't wait for your book to come out.
I officially declared the first draft of my memoir done yesterday. My mother's response to the news was to tell me she was feeling "all kinds of feelings" about me finishing it, which is fair and also a not-so-subtle dig that she can't help, I think. Self-protection and excuses run in her veins, and I love her even so.
I'm looking forward to Permission. It will be good company in these next stages of the storytelling.
Will be ordering a copy of Permission straight away! After half a century of stuffing down my story I have begun to tell it - terrifying but necessary.
Thank you for this. I have a memoir written that's waiting for me to get off my ass and do the painting for, because it's meant to be a graphic memoir. This post had me jot down three different things that I need to add to it, if only I can get over the fear of my brother's reaction. I knew that fear was there, but I was still allowing it to curtail what I include in my memoir. Ultimately, this is a way in which I have yet to grow up. I'm 65 years old, so it's time to grow up.
“one young woman’s heart-rending decision to leave her family, and the decision’s aftermath..” the consequences of my own leaving I have yet to fully articulate even to myself. We are our own first readers.
Happy New Year, Elissa! Thank you for inspiring me this past year. I think I’ve said it before, but I will repeat it. I’m excited to read Permission. Cheers to self-accountability and deeper writing in 2025.
Much gratitude for you, Elissa, and your devotion to writing, to your loved ones, to your fellow beings, to life. "Permission" will be my first book acquisition of 2025. Writing is so difficult (mpr--Minnesota Public Radio--played a wonderful interview this morning, "Author Julie Schumacher on writing", in which she talks about her life story and writing process. In it she quotes a fellow author whose name I can't recall now: "Writers are people for whom writing is more difficult than for other people.")
Still, I've been feeling increasingly compelled to write my story--maybe "Desert Island Discs" style--to prove to myself that if there's even the least, little point to my life, it's worth living. Which probably comes across as self-pitying and self-indulgent, but I recognize it as just a necessary phase I'm passing through. There's an occasional awful, horrible feeling of sheeting worthlessness that I keep reminding myself is par for the course through the liminal time between the obliteration of an outworn identity and the gradual revelation of a new one. In those times of falling into that lowest of low places, where I hold onto myself with both hands to stop myself running down the street and out in front of traffic, there's only one prospect I can come up with that I might like to stay alive for: to hear people tell me about themselves, and to celebrate them. That particular prospect fills me with warmth and love. Sometimes I imagine setting up one of those "man on the street interview" scenarios where I offer to record and transcribe whatever someone would like to say about their life story and deliver it back to them.
Receiving your piece this morning is the very inspiration I needed to get me writing. Immediately. Doing it right now, smiling.
A small offering, in gratitude: a couple of radio storytelling programs I've heard recently that warmed my heart: The Moth Radio Hour (any and all episodes); and a BBC Radio 4 special released today called, "My Shipping Forecast".
I literally got chills when reading this passage:
<<It emerged from the muck and mess of intergenerational trauma, and the writing of a century-old story that, unbeknownst to me, was meant to be hidden. It is the story of what happened — emotionally, physically, spiritually, professionally — when a writer’s world imploded as the result of telling a simple but dangerous tale about one young woman’s heart-rending decision to leave her family, and the decision’s aftermath.<<
Thank you for writing this, Elissa. I can't wait for your book to come out.
I officially declared the first draft of my memoir done yesterday. My mother's response to the news was to tell me she was feeling "all kinds of feelings" about me finishing it, which is fair and also a not-so-subtle dig that she can't help, I think. Self-protection and excuses run in her veins, and I love her even so.
I'm looking forward to Permission. It will be good company in these next stages of the storytelling.
Will be ordering a copy of Permission straight away! After half a century of stuffing down my story I have begun to tell it - terrifying but necessary.
Thank you for this. I have a memoir written that's waiting for me to get off my ass and do the painting for, because it's meant to be a graphic memoir. This post had me jot down three different things that I need to add to it, if only I can get over the fear of my brother's reaction. I knew that fear was there, but I was still allowing it to curtail what I include in my memoir. Ultimately, this is a way in which I have yet to grow up. I'm 65 years old, so it's time to grow up.
My New Years gift to myself is a paid subscription- giving myself permission to do what I want to do
🙏🏽 Elissa, you are a guiding light. I will never be able to explain how mich the timing and tone of your words have meant to me.
This was a lovely New Year's post to start the year rolling.
“one young woman’s heart-rending decision to leave her family, and the decision’s aftermath..” the consequences of my own leaving I have yet to fully articulate even to myself. We are our own first readers.
Happy New Year, Elissa! Thank you for inspiring me this past year. I think I’ve said it before, but I will repeat it. I’m excited to read Permission. Cheers to self-accountability and deeper writing in 2025.
This came to my inbox at quite the right moment. Looking forward to your book! Thank you for sharing.
I'm so eagerly awaiting my copy -- think it will be Spring in France!
I can’t wait for this.
Thank you for your post. Congratulations on your upcoming book. The cover is beautiful.
Thank you Faye!
Much gratitude for you, Elissa, and your devotion to writing, to your loved ones, to your fellow beings, to life. "Permission" will be my first book acquisition of 2025. Writing is so difficult (mpr--Minnesota Public Radio--played a wonderful interview this morning, "Author Julie Schumacher on writing", in which she talks about her life story and writing process. In it she quotes a fellow author whose name I can't recall now: "Writers are people for whom writing is more difficult than for other people.")
Still, I've been feeling increasingly compelled to write my story--maybe "Desert Island Discs" style--to prove to myself that if there's even the least, little point to my life, it's worth living. Which probably comes across as self-pitying and self-indulgent, but I recognize it as just a necessary phase I'm passing through. There's an occasional awful, horrible feeling of sheeting worthlessness that I keep reminding myself is par for the course through the liminal time between the obliteration of an outworn identity and the gradual revelation of a new one. In those times of falling into that lowest of low places, where I hold onto myself with both hands to stop myself running down the street and out in front of traffic, there's only one prospect I can come up with that I might like to stay alive for: to hear people tell me about themselves, and to celebrate them. That particular prospect fills me with warmth and love. Sometimes I imagine setting up one of those "man on the street interview" scenarios where I offer to record and transcribe whatever someone would like to say about their life story and deliver it back to them.
Receiving your piece this morning is the very inspiration I needed to get me writing. Immediately. Doing it right now, smiling.
A small offering, in gratitude: a couple of radio storytelling programs I've heard recently that warmed my heart: The Moth Radio Hour (any and all episodes); and a BBC Radio 4 special released today called, "My Shipping Forecast".
Thank you for this.
❤️