What is the date you began writing this memoir and the date when you completed the memoir? I started writing about twenty five years ago. In 2009 i started writing seriously. I joined a writer’s group. Every week we read our work out loud, then it was open for critique. Everyone was gentle, but my work just wasn’t very good.
One day I read a piece about living on the Autism Spectrum. One person said “Mari has found her voice”. I said, “Are you sure it’s not whiny?” The group said it wasn’t whiny at all. I started writing about my myriad experiences of life on the spectrum. I finally understood that not only had I found my voice, but I was good at conveying what life is like for many of us on the spectrum. I started a blog and kept writing.
I hadn’t planned to write a book at all, but in 2020, I had bad side effects from my cancer meds. I was on prednisone for a while and was ready to start back on the meds. Two weeks later I got every side effect again except worse. I was on a very large dose of Prednisone and my mind was racing. I honestly thought that I wasn’t going to recover. I started compiling and editing my book. Four hours every day for 6 days. My friends from my writing group and my husband were my beta readers. At that point I turned my “illustrations” into greyscale. My spatial difficulties proved to be a nightmare trying to organize my book. At that point I called Bookbaby for formatting and turned in everything including my cover collage. They made it into a book. I finished it in July 2020.
Where did you do most of your writing for this memoir? And please describe in detail. I do most of my writing in the living room in my nice chair, but really, I can write and polish anywhere in the house. This is likely because in my world there is noise everywhere, all the time. It is because my brain cannot separate and ignore unimportant sounds so I hear all the sounds all the time.
What were your writing habits while writing this memoir- did you drink something as you wrote, listen to music, write in pen and paper, directly on laptop; specific time of day? Because of my learning disabilities I had to keep referring to my “color coded book organization sheet”. Then I had to reorganize with new color codes. You can see where this is going. I often asked my husband if he would make me a drink. Scotch is a remarkable anti- anxiety treatment. I have one drink a day, but I can nurse it for hours. I spend about an hour and a half reading every day. I think reading every day is as writing every day. I think both are essential
Out of all the specific memories you write about in this memoir, which ONE MEMORY was the most emotional for you to write about? And can you share that specific excerpt with us here. The excerpt can be as short or as long as you prefer, and please provide page numbers as reference.
A Day at the Park p 32-34
It was a warm, breezy day. The trees were impossibly tall and swaying in the forest. Not a scary kind of swaying, but the gentle movement of nature that signified a perfect day, well not a perfect day because extra people had come along to this picnic in Cook Forest.
Jill and her mom were there. I didn’t know why. Jill was a sometimes friend, depending on what her mysterious, beautiful mom was doing. This day they were doing a picnic with us. Jill was a grade younger than my little sister Rosey. She was 7, Jill was 6 and I was 10.
I’m Dory. I had a secret. Nobody knew that there were a lot of things that I couldn’t do. Some of those things even the little kids could do better, but nobody seemed to notice. I was afraid that I would get found out, and that there would be trouble, or that people would laugh at me, which was a different kind of trouble.
One of the things I couldn’t do was find my way, anywhere. I was always lost, and I tried not to go anywhere by myself. That was a secret, I was so ashamed.
The day at the picnic started out ok. We were going to have hamburgers and baked potatoes like we always had. I loved how we set out the onions, the relish, the ketchup, and the buns. Only my mom knew how to make the onions right. Everybody else made the pieces too big. The hamburgers, which always seemed to take forever would be piled on a big plate. They would be big and fat with uneven edges, grey, drippy, and delicious.
Then it happened, I was always on the watch for this type of thing…. Mom asked if I would take the little kids down to the lake. “What lake?” I thought. “Where would there be a lake in the forest? Oh, she must have said water.”
“Will you take the little kids down to the water?” My mother repeated.
Rosey was all excited and wanted to go, so I whispered to her, “Do you know the way?”
She nodded. She and Jill darted down to the water. I followed in hot pursuit. I was happy seeing them have a good time, but I wouldn’t feel easy until we were all back at the picnic. Until we were back there, from my point of view, we were all lost. I did a really good job of watching them and making sure that they didn’t get hurt. I was good at that. I always looked out for my little sister. I was protective of her because I felt my parents were unfit to raise children. They were careless. This was another secret.
The kids played for a while until it was time to go back to the picnic. Mom had said, “Don’t be too long.” I knew that meant we should be there when the food was ready. We started back, and all was looking good. And then… “I forgot my barrette.” Jill wailed. She insisted that it had to be found, so they wanted to go back. I just wanted the little kids to lead us back to the picnic. I asked Rosey if she knew the way, and she said she did.
I see that I should not have let them go alone. I was ashamed that I didn’t know the way. I waited, and waited for them to come back. I waited so long that I thought the little kids were already back at the picnic. I walked and walked and there they were…. Mom and Jill’s mom. I had found my way back to the picnic! I expected to see the little kids too.
“Where is Jill, where is Jill? her mom screeched. “You lost my daughter,” she hissed “This is all your fault.”
“How could you lose the little kids? Oh God, where are the little kids, Dory?” Mom screamed.
The screaming seemed to go on forever. I had no words, I was not really there. My head was swimming and my eyes were unfocused. My heart pounded in my ears.
Shortly, Rosey and Jill came back, but I really don’t remember anything about the rest of the day.
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Can you describe the emotional process of writing about this ONE MEMORY? The most emotional memory that I wrote about was A Day at the Park. It set my distrust of my parents in stone. My biggest fear is being lost. The internal compass that most people have is a small part of the hippocampus that I was born without. I panic when I’m lost. Usually I am with my husband. One day I managed to get lost in the park that you can’t get lost in. My friend called and I burst into tears and said “I am lost.” She said “Anytime you are lost, you call me. I will find you and I will come and get you.”
I think A Day at the Park was the hardest for me.I felt that I had to make sure to write it exactly as it happened. I still carry that pain and guilt. Maybe it was my fault. All my fault. It was a turning point in my life. I didn’t feel that I could ever trust them again, which proved to be true, right up to when I ran away at 17. They told me I could never come home again. I was an honor student and still went to school and graduated in the top 2% of my class
Were there any deletions from this excerpt that you can share with us? All of the stories that included family life were hard to write. I had known that “your reader will spot the lie.” I also learned from reading Lucky by Alice Sebold, the importance of bringing the reader in the room. I wrote all of my family material by remembering that you can’t sweeten it up because your reader will spot that lie. I am a firm believer in “leave all the blood on the page”.
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