http://collectedmiscellany.com/2005/06/what-makes-a-good-memoir/ seemingly random thoughts on books Mon, 16 Jan 2012 14:27:50 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.1 http://collectedmiscellany.com/2005/06/what-makes-a-good-memoir/comment-page-1/#comment-680 Phil Wed, 29 Jun 2005 20:18:54 +0000 http://1050997600#comment-680 I have some memoirs I intend to read for review, but the genre itself doesn't attract me. I am attracted most by the belief that a book has a good, well-told story. Memoirs that do that are good, and maybe they attract more readers (or different readers) because they run under the "Based on a True Story" heading. History is a source fiction doesn't usually have, because if your story is true, you can boldly include something ridiculous and if readers react? Well, it really happened that way. I have some memoirs I intend to read for review, but the genre itself doesn’t attract me. I am attracted most by the belief that a book has a good, well-told story. Memoirs that do that are good, and maybe they attract more readers (or different readers) because they run under the “Based on a True Story” heading. History is a source fiction doesn’t usually have, because if your story is true, you can boldly include something ridiculous and if readers react? Well, it really happened that way.

]]> http://collectedmiscellany.com/2005/06/what-makes-a-good-memoir/comment-page-1/#comment-679 Tod Goldberg Tue, 28 Jun 2005 22:23:40 +0000 http://1050997600#comment-679 I don't read many memoirs, my sense generally being that my life sucks enough as it is, do I really need a control to compare it to? But then you run into something like The Los Angeles Diaries by James Brown and you think, oh, I see, this is what a memoir is supposed to be. I haven't read Wilsey's book, though I did enjoy the bit in the New Yorker from it, but I find that the memoirs I enjoy most are those written by fiction writers like Brown or Kathryn Harrison or, nominally, Dave Eggars (until that whole part of the book where it really began to, you know, suck). I don't care about the memoirs of successful people, usually (like Jack Welch or something), which seems odd in retrospect. I don’t read many memoirs, my sense generally being that my life sucks enough as it is, do I really need a control to compare it to? But then you run into something like The Los Angeles Diaries by James Brown and you think, oh, I see, this is what a memoir is supposed to be. I haven’t read Wilsey’s book, though I did enjoy the bit in the New Yorker from it, but I find that the memoirs I enjoy most are those written by fiction writers like Brown or Kathryn Harrison or, nominally, Dave Eggars (until that whole part of the book where it really began to, you know, suck). I don’t care about the memoirs of successful people, usually (like Jack Welch or something), which seems odd in retrospect.

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