I intended to get this newsletter out before Valentine’s Day, hence the title. But alas, I was wrapped up in the love of sourdough (thanks to you, Nikki Campo!) and lost all track of time, work, and myriad life pursuits. Better late than never, right?
I suppose it’s no surprise that a writer who loves crafting essays is a fan of memoirs. While I enjoy books from all sorts of genres, more often than not, I turn to memoirs when I’m reading for fun. A bonus: Reading memoirs can also make you a better essayist. Expert memoirists know how to craft complex characters, select the best dialogue, and pen the perfect cliffhanger at the end of each chapter.
Here are five favorites (in alphabetical order by title because, well, I can’t pick favorites). All five books come with strong content warnings, so skip this newsletter if reading about trauma and mistreatment triggers you:
- A Rip in Heaven by Jeannie Cummins. A Rip in Heaven reads more like a true crime novel than a memoir — and it’s harrowing. Cummins writes about herself in the third person, deftly handling topics like violence, rape, murder, and police interrogation tactics. Her brother, Tom Cummins, is both a victim and the chief suspect in a crime involving three teenagers. I found it impossible to close the book at the end of each chapter (hence the binge-read).
- Educated by Tara Westover. Westover’s tale is engrossing, not only because of the unimaginable traumas she endured as a child, but also because of her ability to reflect on her complicated family dynamics. But rather than vilify her family members, she crafts multifaceted characters showing readers both the horrific treatment she faced alongside the tender moments that made it hard for her to walk away.
- The Fact of a Body by Alexandra Marzano-Lesnevich. As a law student, Marzano-Lesnevich seeks to get inside the mind of a child molester so she can come to grips with what happened inside her own family. The book is a master class in weaving investigative journalism with personal experience. Most striking to me is how Marzano-Lesnevich’s manages the grey areas, which might be easily wrapped up in a novel, but are largely incomplete in real life.
- The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. This memoir, like many others, homes in on an undeniable truth: It’s near impossible for children to shed the love they have for their parents. As Walls grows up, she begins to see the truth of her family; her dad’s alcoholism, her mother’s neglect, and the shocking lack of food and parental supervision that every child deserves. Walls was cooking hotdogs for herself and her siblings when she was only three years old!
- Wild Game by Adrienne Brodeur. At age 14, Brodeur becomes an accomplice in her mother’s secret affair with a close family friend. The pair rely on Brodeur to act as a decoy for their trysts, and the sordid relationship is just the beginning of both families’ undoing. Masterfully crafted and suspenseful, Wild Game left me craving more. I devoured the book over a three-day weekend even with three school-aged kids and a very full workload.
Admittedly, all of these books are written by white women — and most of them circle around dysfunctional family relationships. That wasn’t by design. In next year’s “For the Love of Memoir” newsletter, I’ll feature only authors from minority groups. Among my current favorites: Punch Me Up to the Gods, Memorial Drive, and Know My Name.
I also wasn’t able to include New York Times Bestsellers, such as The Bright Hourand When Breath Becomes Air — two memoirs that have been on my to-read list for years, but that I haven’t been able to stomach reading yet. Fun fact: The widower and widow of each of these authors are now married to each other. |