Holiday Hospitality with a Twist

READY, SET, WRITE! That’s how most people think writing a memoir will go, whether it be in blog form, a series of essays or a full-length book. There once was a time when I was terribly polite about this work and what it requires. At cocktail parties when someone asked me what I do, and just above my string of pearls I’d smile and reply, “I’m a writer,” and nearly to a person, he’d say he was going to write when he retired. Nodding, I’d wish him the best with it and slink off to find the canapés, wondering what was wrong with me that I was going to devote my whole life to writing, when clearly people who were smarter than I could put it off until they got around to it.

Now, I’m not so polite. Now, when someone tells me that he is going to become a writer when he gets around to it, I reply, “And what do you do?” And sometimes he says, “Oh, I’m a brain surgeon,” and that’s my favorite reply because then I can say, “When I retire I’m going to become a brain surgeon,” with just a hint of a sneer above those pearls.

Writing is serious work and is not for the mere brain surgeons among us, but for those who resolve that 2010 is the year you finally write a memoir. And, here comes the single best time of  the year to start: The holidays, that great long stretch of time granting you myriad opportunities to see your family and take some notes. Oh! Did I say that?

I think I did.

What better time to collect some data than while baking and toasting and roasting by the fire, observing the rituals of family and finally getting some of it down and publishing it?

Here’s a two-word tip on how: Be hospitable.

Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Being hospitable in writing means many things, but going into this marathon of family observation let’s just choose one way to be hospitable to your memoir writing.

Let’s take notes. Literally.

Being hospitable means getting a stack of index cards and putting one in each pocket, in the back pocket of your jeans, and taking it out at the movies when you see someone make a great transition from one emotion to the next, making note of the spare gesture employed that conveyed the change; writing down that same crazy story Aunt Ellen tells every year about carving turkeys; noting that marvelous tale of the inherited aprons; jotting down that little endearing nervous gesture your sister employs just before she let’s the turkey be carried into the dining room. Write it down. Get a few notebooks, and write things down.

But here’s the rub: This does not require an expensive digital recorder, leather notebook, or Cartier pen. That’s shopping instead of writing. That’s showing off. That’s going into debt.

Get some index cards. Write down some stuff between now and New Year. And resolve that 2010 is the year you write that memoir. When you need help, check in with us. We’ve got some tips. Write it down at the holidays and see where the new year takes you.

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