Writing as a disinheritance.

I just published the first piece of my memoir project here, with mixed feelings. This piece is short, mostly non-eventful and probably too image/metaphor-heavy. That’s okay, I’m telling myself. It’s the first piece, and it’s a second draft. I chose this piece to publish first because I wanted to begin with something gentle. Brian Castro calls writing from life a ‘disinheritance’, and this both concerns and interests me. Over the weekend I perused my drafts and made a list of all the real people who may be affected by what I have written. Who might be embarrassed, who might disagree, who might remember things differently. This is the only piece that doesn’t intersect with that list, and so I’ve eased the reader in. Maybe. From here we take a deep breath and plunge. 

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