I am currently reading Mary Karr's Lit, which is completely wonderful. It's a memoir about her life in literature and addiction. I also love Anne Lamott, and David Sedaris, two writers who let you into their lives in the most vulnerable of ways.
This blog has so far been about becoming a paid writer in the forms of small articles, etc. I am still very interested in this.
Yet, I had a breakthrough yesterday. Well, and a a breakdown. Watching Michael Moore's documentary Sicko, there was a scene in whic homeless people were being dropped off and treated in horrible ways. I wanted to immediately stop watching the film.
My boyfriend grew somewhat irritated, as he had really been looking forward to watching. He offered to fast forward through that section, but I refused and got very angry. He questioned my reaction, and when I left the room and started to basically howl was when we both knew there was something much deeper going on.
I began to explain to him about my mom. I don't want to say too much here except that the documentary and my mom's life were very similar. I realized in telling my boyfriend all the reasons that the documentary was such a traumatic thing for me to view, that I had a very important story to tell.
So now I know what the large piece that I want to write about is. I knew there was something. I just didn't know what until now.
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