I haven’t read your memoir yet.

I imagine it’d look something like that scene from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets where Harry shoves a Basilisk fang into the black leather journal and sticky blood oozes out. That’s how it looks in my head at least.

via weheartit.com

Ginny Weasley—the girl who loses sight of being a girl when she tries to wander down into the darkness.

I imagine the way shivers might run up the length of her spine when she steps back to survey the damage she did. The way the tears well up inside when she figures out that wrecking something doesn’t make it any less harmful.

And sometimes, you only end up with a mess to clean up.

I haven’t read your memoir yet.

That doesn’t mean you have to go out right now and purchase a journal. Don’t bother writing it all down for me. I’ll purchase a copy the old-fashioned way.

You know, before there were Nooks and Kindles and iPads. Before a book’s pages were waterproof. Back then you could feel the texture beneath each page when you turned it.

You could hold those words close like they were written for you and only you.

Back then I could purchase a copy of your memoir over coffee. Or tea, if you’re like me and still haven’t fallen in love with the black steaming liquid we all rely on to keep our heads up and our feet moving when bedtime is nearly the same as the moment when the alarm clock goes off on tomorrow.

We’ll go to the nearest Starbucks where you can still plug in to everything you need—Wi-fi and gossip, served fresh daily—because I know you’re afraid to skip all the pleasantries and begin with the guts.

The guts?

Tell me, in more than a few words, why you’re upset or elated or whatever.

I’m sick of stumbling through life making judgments based on Facebook statuses and Twitter feeds. I’m sick of wondering and assuming and listening to the way we categorize everyone based on what they did on Friday night.

I don’t know you. I haven’t read your memoir yet. But I want to.

I think we’re afraid to start with something big like that. Something like what’s keeping you hooked to the caffeine IV each morning.

What’s so bad you didn’t sleep a wink last night? That even when you’re poolside on Saturdays you can’t let the wall you’ve built up come tumbling down?

I don’t need to know everything. I certainly can’t handle it all, and one mini inquiry won’t solve this problem of Judging and Labeling Strangers but I hate the way the frustration wells up each time someone I know starts to frown and whisper when someone else walks by.

I don’t know what’s so bad. They don’t know what’s so bad.

But I want to.

I want the noncommercial version, the one I can’t buy for two easy payments of $19.95 plus shipping and handling. The one locked under your bed. The one you reprimanded every time it started to free itself across the pages of a blank Word document.

I want you to knock down your carefully constructed empire where pointing fingers and speaking slurs in hushed voices has become commonplace.

Level with me, will you?

It’s the only way to help me stop. Don’t give me reasons to bash your decisions or raise my eyebrows or roll my eyes.

Make me listen. I want to know your story.

Start at the beginning, page one of the memoir, and leave nothing out.


9 responses to “I haven’t read your memoir yet.

  1. I still buy books, even though there are ebooks. its somewhat different.

  2. Have you read any e-books? I’ve read a few short ones on my computer as PDF files, but it’s weird for me to think of holding this big device and reading. It’s just this entirely different mindset.

  3. ps. I love your name. So beautiful.

  4. yes, i have. i’ve read the hunger games trilogy on ebooks. but when i was 3/4 into the first book, i decided to buy the hardcopy. cause its “nicer” to read like that. but the other 2 i read as ebooks, cause i couldnt find the same published designs.

  5. Thanks! It’s actually my pen name 🙂

  6. Wonderful post, so raw and full of energy. You write extremely well and your words provoke a strong reaction from the reader. One page from my memoir? Well I haven’t started writing it yet, but here’s a sentece: I faked and judged until I realised that life is too short to express anything but love.

  7. Thank you. The great thing about that sentence is that so so many others can relate. It reminds me of that site Six Word Memoirs.

  8. I love this!! I want to frame it. Is that weird? I don’t care. 🙂 There’s so much here. The love of books and people and truth. You captured it all so beautifully.

    “I don’t know you. I haven’t read your memoir yet. But I want to.”

    What a wonderful way to meet the week.

  9. Thank you! Hahah I won’t at all be freaked out if you do. I’ve honestly said that a number of times to others when reading their blogs, so it’s actually a major compliment.

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