Author Archives: E. C. Murray

To my new readers, this blog reflects my reading 100 Memoirs as an exercise in writing one memoir. “To write well,” my instructor stated, I should “read one hundred books in my genre.”  I’ve completed my memoir currently titled, On the … Continue reading →

So many books, so many superb memoirs. I recently read two classics, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers, a Pulitzer finalist, and In Pharaoh’s Army by Tobias Wolf. Both men write with clear, distinctive voices which most writers … Continue reading →

When you notice a blogger hasn’t written from December through April, you may presume they’re in Tahiti. Or Fiji. Or some equally remote, romantic hide away. But, no I’ve been right here, mostly, at home, writing, tending my family, and … Continue reading →

Although Betty MacDonald’s old homestead is virtually around the corner from my home in Washington state, I grew up three thousand miles away in Holyoke, Massachusetts where I savored MacDonald’s Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle books. I read the same stories to my daughter. I … Continue reading →

When memoirists emphasize their childhood suffering (Lit, Glass Castle, Running with Scissors, and so on), we cheer as narrators extricate themselves from unimaginably gruesome settings.  Poignant, profound, truthful, these memoirs make fascinating reads. But, it was a relief to read … Continue reading →

Disappointment Who’s not intrigued by Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe? Their struggles in New York during the late sixties and early seventies, as portrayed in Just Kids, bring to life a critical era of American art. Name dropping –Andy Warhol, William … Continue reading →

I must say, I like writing this blog on reading one hundred memoirs. When Paul sees me curled up on the couch, eating bon bons, reading a luscious book, and asks, “What are you doing?” I can honestly answer, “Working, dear. … Continue reading →

Fun My mentor, Theo Nestor, author of How to Sleep Alone in a King Sized Bed, says memoirs of famous people should not be considered the same genre as pensive, reflective books of virtually unknown writers.  That may be true. … Continue reading →

Vivid writing. Poetic, flowing phrases.  And yet, when I read Meredith Hall’s 2007 memoir, Without a Map, my guts wrenched, tears formed, my breath stifled. The knot in my stomach remained days after reading.  If I am to call other … Continue reading →

The best memoirs are written by writers, unlike the hundreds of books authored by people who think it would be cool to write a book. The market is flooded with mediocre work. Yet, sometimes mediocre is good. Mediocre can be entertaining: perhaps eye-opening, … Continue reading →