Because I clearly just don’t have enough projects to focus on in the miles of time I have outside of work, I’ve taken on yet another. I signed up to be part of The Memoir Project, a project to create 500 handwritten memoirs. (There are only 475 folks participating as of this moment, so you can still go sign up!) In brief:
Take pause and hand write a story that defines you. Your memoir can be the story of your whole existence or a specific point in your life. This collection will travel in our Mobile Library and eventually be installed in our permanent collection at The Brooklyn Art Library, preserving a common human history through the eyes of those that lived it.
I signed up in early February, and a little notebook, complete with protective “sleeping bag,” arrived in the mail a week or so ago. I’m allowed to write my memoir however I like, as long as I don’t use objects or processes that could fall off or damage another book in the collection, and as long as I stick to the maximum book measurements (5″ wide x 7″ tall x 1″ thick — which is much thicker than the notebook that was mailed out). And, as long as my book is straight-up ink on paper, it will be digitized as part of the collection. And I might even have a chance to read my memoir when the tour comes home to Brooklyn this summer.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the project, but I’ve yet to do any writing. In part because I’ve been caught up with other things, but also because I’m thinking I want to make a different kind of book to write in. I’m thinking the coptic-bound books I learned how to make at the Brainery might be good.
And, too, I’m still deciding what I want to do with my memoir. The “story of my life” seems a little daunting to capture in one small notebook before the end of May, so “specific point in my life” seems the way to go … but how to choose?
Of course, the answer is to just start writing. It’s much easier to make a choice when you have something to choose from. So I think that’s my assignment: the VONA writers will be at my house in two weeks, which gives me a week to get a draft of something going so I can submit it to the group. Time to start dragging the lake, dredge up some odd-bits from my past and start shaping them on the page …
Click over to Two Writing Teachers to read more of today’s slices!