Welcome to My Life.
Are You…Are You Serious? Are You Really Serious Right Now?
A Memoir That I’m Calling Fiction So That This Woman Can’t Sue Me.
I Can’t Make This Stuff Up.
The Names Have Been Changed to Protect the Truth From People Who Can’t Handle the Truth.
Alternate Realities Really Do Exist (My Aunt Lives in One)
I’m Not Going- OK – I’m Just – I’m Just Letting You Know-I’m Just Letting You Know That I’m- I’m Hanging Up Now.
These are all working titles for the memoir I am fully planning on writing. Or is it a memoir? For the longest time I subscribed to the opinion that unless you are famous or have been through war or some other major trauma, no one wants to read about your life.
Well, people are going to want to read this one. I’ve started reading Slaughter House Five and I’m inspired. I’m ready for a genre bending head trip through the hell that is certain people in this family.
I think I’ll create a new genre, in fact.
OK. I already have an umbrella genre. Sub Genre?
I’m going to let you decide fiction or nonfiction. (Kinda like choose your own adventure but you’re just deciding for yourself if it’s real.)
Yea. I like it.
OK, it speaks to my lesser self. (My mother says I’m an eagle and not to peck around with the chickens.)
But my lesser self likes that.
I mean, how are you gonna piss off a writer? You know she’ll write a book.