Slice of Life: Day 7: Memoir Bullets 001

One of my goals is to write a memoir using specific moments in my life that prove I was destined to become a writer. I always enjoyed writing but didn't always know it was what I was meant to be. Looking back, it's obvious. 

 I began a list about a year ago, and what started as a few bullets quickly turned into a list of fifty. It's incredible how many memories your mind conjures up when you make it your primary focus. I even have subcategories, which is to say, I have all the memories needed.

 

Most writers are familiar with Christopher Vogler's, The Writer's Journey. My memoir will be titled, The Journey's Writer. Think about it. It's perfect. From the time Mrs. Phillips, my 3^rd-grade teacher, wrote The Flying Violin on the blackboard as our prompt, I have been on a journey. And now, it's time to go back in time, stand in the corner and watch the writer in me unfold.

 

Bullet 1: Trevor Ferrell

Certain people, places, events and human conditions are staples in my stories. Father/son relationships, baseball and an old cabin often enter my stories. Another thing that does is homelessness. 

 

When I was young, our church, Leacock Presbyterian, held an annual father/son breakfast. Each year we would have a guest speaker. Tom Herr, an MLB player and Doug Allen, a local news celebrity, were among them. One year, a guy talked about hiking the entire Appalachian Trail. Another year, a Vietnam vet spoke, but most of that was over my head. I don't remember anything of what was said. This was due to my young age because I don't recall ever being bored. I always enjoyed hearing people's life stories – a passion recently ignited as I read autobiographies from Bono, Ralph Macchio, Matthew Perry and Will Smith.

 

But one year, our guest spoke about something that I will never forget, a foreign concept to me at the time. His story about how he went from handing out blankets to the homeless to starting a shelter, Trevor's Place, spoke to my heart and soul and every tributary connecting them. Trevor Ferrell was a young teen, if that, when he began changing the lives of those living on the fringe of society – people we need to look after and love. 

 

I love handing money or water to people on the median strips. It doesn't matter what they will use it for. That's not the point. The point is the act of kindness, a small gift that says, I see you. God doesn't care if I give money to someone that may misspend it. He cares about the heart behind it all.

 

If nothing else, reaching out to the homeless shows empathy, a rock-solid character trait for any protagonist in any story. Trevor opened my eyes to a world I couldn't see from my bedroom's comfort, surrounded by baseball cards and eclectic collectibles. Writers need the knowledge and vision of the least, the last and the lonely. Otherwise, you run the risk of creating flat characters. Or, even worse, characters that are entirely identical.

 

Homelessness isn't the only brick in my writer's wall. I loved listening to stories growing up. They didn't have to be true; I loved them no matter what. You'll notice this as my list continues.