Tag: creative nonfiction

December: Confession

In high school I prided myself on knowing the best gossip, and later I became a journalist. The question I had to ask myself, when the time came to finally write a memoir, was how much to divulge.

Will the Real Cheryl Strayed Please Stand Up?

I watched as Cheryl went from person to person like a hummingbird gathering nectar, engaging people as though she were truly interested in them– and I’m sure she was. She told me that she asked so many questions of her mother’s friends and house guests when she was young that her mother gave her a limit of how many questions she could ask each person. What were the types of questions she asked? “Who do you love? Why do you love them?” All questions of the interior life. Imagine a five year-old engaging you in such a conversation.

Blue Canaries

My fiancé arrives home from a twelve hour shift. He left in the pre-dawn darkness, and has arrived after winter’s dusk.

“Who died?” I ask when I greet him at the door, motioning to the black band across his badge. A thin blue line on the band serves as a marker for his profession.

“The deputy in Leon Country,” he says, leaving his boots by the door. “You didn’t hear?”

“No,” I say. “What happened?”

He tells me about the fire and the ambushed deputies, and I’m reminded of the nickname firefighters have given cops–blue canaries.