What My Family Thinks of My Memoir

Answering the most FAQ. Plus, summer events and a few links.

There’s one question I’ve been asked more often than any other — in media interviews, at book events, by podcast hosts, by strangers in emails and DMs, by parents on the sidelines of the soccer field, by people I haven’t spoken with in decades:

What does your family think of the memoir?

I understand the curiosity. Writing a memoir is an act of excavation and translation. There’s vulnerability and risk, not just for the author, but for an extended family that wants to preserve its folklore. It’s natural to wonder about the ripple effects of one perspective.

Yet, to answer the questions what do they think? are they ok with it?! requires me to center my family’s experience and prioritize their comfort, something I had to do for most of my life.

It’s not that I don’t care about their feelings. Quite the opposite, actually. Throughout my childhood and early adulthood, all I knew and understood was my immediate family’s intense emotional and physical needs. I tended to those needs. I nearly drowned in them. It took years to claw my way to the shore.

As I was writing the book, I held in my mind the faces of my someday readers and considered what would be most helpful to them. I also imagined I was writing to a younger version of myself. What did she need? What could I offer her?

In the end, what I could offer was an echo and a mirror. Exploration and honesty. I could offer myself, fully embodied and separate from anyone else. I could peel back layers of denial, tell my story, and consider how it’s really everyone’s story.

The one person I found it hardest to separate myself from was Alan. As I wrote, I felt protective of him. But that was OK. A beautiful side effect of creating this book is that I got to spend a few extra years alone with my brother, learning once again how to love and care for him without abandoning myself.

So here’s my answer to that FAQ: I wrote this book with a lot of care and empathy and boundaries. I spent a lot of time researching and interviewing people and considering everyone’s role in my family. But I didn’t write it for them, and what they think of it is none of my business.

No, but really. What do they think?

Sometimes there’s more to this than benign curiosity. Voyeurism maybe, or gossip or spectacle.¹ I believe the question also points to hidden fears. Perhaps what the question-asker really wants to know is, what would it mean for them to name their experiences? What would it be like if they were the one standing up in the boat? Would they face backlash? Could they survive walking around with no skin for a while?

I also think it’s about permission. Who is allowed to speak? Are we, as writers, as people, as individuals in a family ecosystem, allowed to take up space? Are our stories mutually exclusive? Or can our truth exist alongside other truths?

Also, who is invested in our silence? Are the benefits of speaking worth the cost? (I can’t answer that either. It is a personal math equation that only you can solve.)

I will say this: I believe that a lot of what we call “writer’s block” is actually a fear of speaking or a fear of being seen and known — by others or by ourselves. For me, writing the memoir meant finding ways to quiet that fear (or shove it aside and write anyway).

If you’ve read my story, you know that the most redemptive, most nurturing, most joyful parts of my life came from my pushing through terror to see what’s on the other side.

P.S. I’m tempted to add a disclaimer about maintaining privacy and ethics and fidelity to the truth and how to make sure your manuscript is legally bulletproof (all things I gave special attention to). But I don’t think that’s what anyone is really asking about. If they are, then there are plenty of resources out there to google.

Let’s Hang Out This Summer!

I have a couple of in-person events happening in July and August. If you live in/near Boulder or Phoenix, I hope you’ll come say hello! For the Phoenix event with

Nora McInerny

, a free ticket is required. Reserve your spot here.

Want a Sticker? Leave a Review

If you’ve read Forces of Nature and enjoyed it, I’d be SO grateful if you left a review or gave it some stars on Goodreads, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, StoryGraph, or wherever you like to browse books. Reviews make the book visible to new readers and push it higher in searches. It makes a big difference to authors who work so hard to get their stories into your hands. If you’ve already left a review, please tell me in the comments. I’ll choose a couple of people at random and mail you a thank-you note and stickers.

Other News:

• I’m writing a regular column for Psychology Today about the forces that impact our lives, including disability, family dynamics, complicated grief, and the healing power of nature.

• I enjoyed this in-depth interview with the editors of SunLit

• For Jane Friedman, I made a case for writing memoir in present tense.

• The Washington Post gave Forces of Nature a rave review

1. I like to give interviewers the benefit of the doubt, but one podcast host was so intrusive with their questions I almost left the interview halfway through. It’s worth noting: Just because an author has shared some vulnerable parts of their life in writing doesn’t mean the media (or anyone) is entitled to an all-access, backstage pass.