MEMOIR

INGL 3202 – Fall 2010 Nataly Rodriguez

I remember when…

What makes a memoir a memoir? Characteristics of Memoirs:

A memory; description of an event from the past.

Written in 1st person; told from one person’s point of view.

Based on the truth. NOT fiction.

Has meaning. It shows what the author learned from the experience.

Focused on ONE even; one moment in the author’s life.

More about the EXPERIENCE than about the event itself.

When writing a memoir, make sure:

to describe in great detail.

to attract your reader.

it is clear and focused.

to zoom in on one specific moment or idea.

to tell both the outside AND inside story.

Example #1 Wasn’t That Fun?

I couldn’t believe it! I was actually going to do it! I was lining up for the Cork Screw. I was wide eyed, staring at the gigantic ride. High above me was endless hoops, turns, jerks, hills, loops and twirls. My heart, I could feel pounding. “I chose to go on this, but why?” I asked myself. So I could get out of this terrible situation, I closed my eyes.

Example #1 In my head, I could imagine myself

taking steps toward home. Suddenly, Alex yelled, “Good luck!” I was two people away from my worst nightmare. Two passengers then I could be on board. I’d been chattering my teeth now for the past 20 minutes. They hurt, so did my knees. They had been knocking together since the last time I checked my watch.

Example #1 Someone pushed my back. I looked back

but no one was there. “Oh well” I thought aloud. While I was thinking about who pushed me someone latched me up! I looked around. I was trapped in the bars! I tried to escape the huge ride by closing my eyes. I was bumping up and down very slowly. We were going up the hill bump. Bump. Bump. I looked up for a moment at the sky to wish that I would have a safe journey. I said to myself It can’t be that bbbbbaaaddddd HELP ME!!!! I was taking the long journey down.

Example #1 Then we started the endless curves

and bumps. We went straight. Then to the left! Then to the right! hen up. Then down. And to the right, Then left!

Example #1 Oh no! We were coming up to the. . .

Upside down, screaming, yelling, gasping for air loop da loop. Upside down! Twice! Straight, straight, straight, loop, loop around and around again. My head was spinning – and fast. Again up we went suddenly! I held onto my head thinking it might come off. I couldn’t take it anymore! Then we slowly went down the hill. Straight. Straight.

Example #1 I could see people waiting in line. It

slides. Then halts. It’s over. I quietly sigh with relief. Terror loosened its grip from my shoulders from everyone begging me to go on. I had done it. I was a survivor. I got off the ride still scared, but proud. Then Alex, Jenny and Zarhra came up to me and hollered, “Wasn’t that fun?”

Example #1

Written by Tracy – grade 4

Example #2 “My Name” by Sandra

In English my name means hope. In Spanish it means too many letters. It means sadness, it means waiting. It is like the number nine. A muddy color. It is the Mexican records my father plays on Sunday mornings when he is shaving, songs like sobbing. It was my great-grandmother's name and now it is mine. She was a horse woman too, born like me in the Chinese year of the horse--which is supposed to be bad luck if you're born female-but I think this is a Chinese lie because the Chinese, like the mexicans, don't like their women strong.

Example #2 My great-grandmother. I would've liked to have known her, a wild, horse of a woman, so wild she wouldn't marry. Until my great-grandfather threw a sack over her head and carried her off. Just like that, as if she were a fancy chandelier. That's the way he did it. And the story goes she never forgave him. She looked out the window her whole life, the way so many women sit their sadness on an elbow. I wonder if she made the best with what she got or was she sorry because she couldn't be all the things she wanted to be. Esperanza. I have inherited her name, but I don't want to inherit her place by the window.

Example #2 At school they say my name funny as if the syllables were made out of tin and hurt the roof of your mouth. But in Spanish my name is made out of a softer something, like silver, not quite as thick as sister's name Magdalena– which is uglier than mine. Magdalena who at least– can come home and become Nenny. But I am always Esperanza. I would like to baptize myself under a new name, a name more like the real me, the one nobody sees. Esperanza as Lisandra or Maritza or Zeze the X. Yes. Something like Zeze the X will do.