Last night I met up with my amazing writing group that I procured when I took my Memoir writing class at Gotham in the spring. It was the first time I put myself on the page, authentically and I was scared. I didn’t have any negative expectations but I didn’t know know what to expect. The support and feedback I did receive was absolutely what I needed. This group has fueled my decision to continue with my future memoir. When I’ll complete it is another story. Then it makes me wonder if I should be getting my MFA in memoir writing rather than fiction.
I think my fiction needs more work than my memoir writing. I’m more comfortable with memoir writing and still frigid with my fiction. I don’t know why my fiction suffers while my non-fiction flourishes. Is the universe telling me something? I don’t know.
Eventually, my fiction writing will grow with my creative non-fiction work. I just have to be honest with the material like my own material.