I am a memoir junky, and I am not alone it seems. Memoir has been growing steadily in popularity, maybe a result of our “reality” obsessed society. (What the hell is reality anyway? Especially when it involves a camera crew, but that’s another post for another day) I love memoir for the introspection, for the way the personal can become universal. I love to see how other people live their lives, the choices they make and the circumstances they face. I’m curious about people and I love a good story. Here are some of my favorites from the last few years:

1)      Strange Piece of Paradise by Terri Jentz. The New York Times said of her book, “Imagine that it had been Truman Capote himself who’d been savaged at Holcomb, Kansas, and that he had survived to describe his ordeal.” High praise to be compared to In Cold Blood, but I think it holds up. Jentz kept me on the edge of my seat with her taut and very visual prose. She is a screenwriter and it comes through in her writing. Every scene feels very cinematic. You can almost hear a soundtrack while you read. The account of her savage and random attack is a unique perspective in crime literature too. We don’t often hear from the victims at all, let alone this eloquently.

2)      The Tender Bar by J.R. Moehringer. The headline might read, “Kid grows up in bar, goes to Yale?” This coming-of-age tale is set largely in a neighborhood bar his uncle frequents. Since JR’s father exists for him mostly as a disembodied voice on the radio, he seeks out father figures in his uncle and the other regulars at the bar. It could have all ended in tears and alcoholism certainly, but this tale is uplifting and sweet. A love letter to a place and time and a group of men.

3)      The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. Another kind of love letter and another kind of coming-of-age. Jeannette grows up with a con-man father and an artist with-her-head-in-the-clouds mother. The book opens with her in flames at three years old as she boils her own hot dogs on the stove, unfettered by any kind of adult supervision. She manages to tell these stories of what often seems like criminal neglect with love and compassion. There is no bitterness or maudlin emotions when there certainly could be, and you feel affection for these parents even as you shake your head at some of their very bad decisions. It is amazingly well-told and un-put-downable.

4)      Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress by Susan Jane Gilman. Her voice is great. You feel like you’re hanging out with a great storyteller, someone whose company you just genuinely enjoy. It is a tale of “growing up groovy and clueless in New York City,” and I found it hilarious, truthful, painful and sweet. Gilman’s Undress Me in the Temple of Heaven sounds great too, I haven’t cracked that one yet.

5)      I’m Not the New Me is the book I wish I’d written, but Wendy McClure got there first. She is an absolute scream and her ability to describe disgusting vintage recipe cards in creative and laugh-out-loud ways leaves me green with envy (and a bit of nausea) Her memoir is ostensibly about weight-loss, but it’s more than that. It’s about the weirdness of becoming “famous” online and the weirdness of love and body image. It is honest and scorchingly funny.

UPDATE:

6) Damn!  My mind just is not what it used to be. I forgot to include one of my favorite memoirs of ALL freaking time. Fun Home by Alison Bechdel. God I love this book. It's a graphic memoir and the images are as amazing as the words: blue-tinted melancholic and yearning. Bechdel's memoir is full of literary references and deals with a lesbian daughter and her closeted father, coming of age in a funeral home (the fun home of the title) and many many other things. It is amazing. I recommend with all kinds of stars.

Honorable mentions in the funny category to anything by Jen Lancaster and Laurie Notaro.

Open Salon is one of my favorite places to hang out and read because I’m such a memoir junky. There is plenty here to get me my fix. So much so that compiling a list is damn near impossible, but here are my very subjective picks of OS memoir best:

Persephone13 does not seem to be actively blogging any more, which is a damn shame because this story has stuck with me. It is horrific and amazingly told. This is her near-death experience and I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.

Sandra Stephens writes some of the best stuff on OS whether fiction or personal essay or memoir. Her tale of surviving anorexia is another bare-knuckled post. Raw, real, unflinching and honest.

Buffy W is working on a memoir and, man, does she have stories to tell. I can’t wait to read this sucker when it comes out. This post is the one that hooked me on her storytelling.

Emma Peel’s tale of family drama will stay with me for a long time. It almost feels like I witnessed it.

Owl says who's letter to her son is a poignant piece about the joys and sacrifices of  being a gay parent in a straight world.

Homer Langley knows how to tell a story like Papa Hemingway did it: bare bones, just the necessary words.

After that I think some lighter fare is in order

I don’t know if you can classify Sheldon the Wonderhorse’s escapades as memoir per se, but I’m sure it’s all very real to him. His detailing of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s crimes against music is fantastic.

Steve Blevins always gives great advice, his tips on making your marriage work is top notch. Look out Ask Amy, there’s a new wise-ass in town.

It is really hard for me to pick a Lisa Kern bestie, her stuff is all pretty dang hilarious, but How to Publicly Embarrass Yourself just describes the most whacked out scene in an Outback Steakhouse that you will ever witness. And bonus points for teaching me about vasovagal syncope. And, no, I have no idea how to pronounce that.

MJwycha got a lot of attention for his Defense of Rush, but I think a little gem you might not have noticed was his personal story of a date gone horribly wrong. All I gotta say is: underwear in shrubbery and not for good kinky reasons. Good stuff.

The Bloggess makes me jealous and I hate her and want to stalk her and wear her wig. She’s funny as hell.

Mister Comedy can have a nervous breakdown and still be funny. That’s talent.

And, for fuck’s sake just read Beth Mann’s whole damn blog. I ain’t got time to pick one.

And speaking of fuck, read some fucking Floyd Eliot.

Honestly this list is pretty arbitrary, I could come up with a completely different one next week, there’s just so much good stuff here and more every day. I find someone telling a really honest story, exposing some delicate part of themselves to the sunlight for the first time. Or being unbearably funny which makes me SO jealous because that just isn’t easy, but you have to make it look that way. Dammit OS! I want to write too. Sometimes you inspire me and sometimes you make me feel incredibly inadequate. Like I should just quit while I have some dignity intact. Well, fuck dignity, I’ve come this far and I’m not one to quit just because I suck (sucking certainly hasn’t stopped me from running), so why not keep on keepin’ on in the brave new decade? Happy New Year OS!