While Anne Lamott suggests writing a “sh*tty” first draft, I struggle with this task. If feels risky. What if I die before I have a chance to revise and remove the pedantic diatribes of my first draft? Will my headstone read “Master of Inkhornism?”
I say, write it all. Password protect. Hope to delete before you die.
Marjorie Witt 19XX to 20XX “She Deleted It All”

I can’t even pronounce this one. But if you look on
The word of the day was to be grandiloquent but my pompous, bombastic self eluded me. With ego deflated, I settled for galimatias, a better description of my current writing obstacle. It’s the memoir file that contains over 100,000 words – bits and pieces gathered from journals, workshop vignettes, and writing prompts -an organizational disaster. The monumental task becomes a marathon of decision. What to keep. What to delete.
What does a word like facinorous have to do with writing a memoir? Here’s a hint. I discovered this word last year and immediately attached it to the one person who deserved to be portrayed as the atrociously wicked one. But writing sometimes heals old injuries and we can choose who surfaces in our memoirs. My advice – write what you need to write and erase with diligence.
Imagine if you were writing a memoir and suddenly you were hit with an incredible twist of fate. Would you rewrite the entire book? I’m not sure how I’d answer that but I know one thing for sure – if I keep waiting for the eucatastrophic ending, my memoir may never be complete. I could create a happy ending as fiction. Who knows? Maybe it would come true.