memoirs

I have often thought about writing a book.  A novel is out of the question because it requires dialog, and I am no good at writing that.  But recently I have read books that are memoirs of the lives of women.  I thought these books were so fascinating.  I loved looking into other peoples lives and seeing how they live.  The craziness in their life, made me feel as though there were others who experienced hardship mixed in with the fun and good, just like mine.

So I thought about it.  Yes, I could write a memoir about my life.  My childhood was just crazy enough, and I turned out just normal enough that it might work.  Then I realized that if I were to write a book about my life, I would have to write ALL of it.  The good, the bad, and the truly horrible.  Which would mean talking about things that have never been talked about.  It would exploit the actions of all of us,  myself included, some known and some unknown. Honesty would mean my family would be offended and embarrassed and I could lose some very important people in my life if it were ever to be published.

I think that, at least for now, there are some things that should remain unspoken.