You reach a certain point in your life, and the years you have behind you start to number more than the years you probably have left. This leads to introspection, and I am no exception to that rule.
In recent days, I have found myself reflecting on my past a lot. No particular timeframe, just little memories that keep coming up in my mind.
It may be because Mark and I have just started reading a new book in Italian by a fairly well-known author. We’ve previously read two of his fictional works, but this one is an autobiography. We’ve only read the first four chapters – Italian still takes a lot longer to read than English – and I’ve already noticed a few event and ideas from his life story that are clearly reflected in his fictional work. It’s fascinating to be able to make these connections between an author and their books.
 And so I decided to start writing my own memories down.
The joke explanation here is that when I become famous, it will be nice to have all this stuff ready for my autobiography. But it’s really more that I want to preserve these memories, and to give some thought to how they have impacted me as a writer, as a husband, and as a human being.
So I started a word file called “Autobiography.” As these memories come to me, I’m taking a little time to write them down in date order.
It’s not like I needed an extra writing project – I am working on three novels at the same time, after all. But this is something that I’ve thought about doing for a long time, and for some reason, now seems right for it.
It’s also a good palette cleanser for getting myself into my fiction writing – take fifteen minutes to jot down a memory and get the juices flowing, and then dig into my fictional worlds.
So far, I’ve written three short extracts from my life. One about my father when I was four years old, and was bitten by a dog while we were out flying a kite together. One about my best friend after high school, and how we lost touch with one another. And one about the decision I made to go live with my father for a year when I was 15, which altered the course of my life and ultimately brought me to Mark. These connections are often hard to suss out in the moment, but in hindsight they sometimes sing out to us more clearly.
There’s value in doing this for my writing too. It clarifies my life experience, and offers me ideas for my plots and characters. I tend to think that my life has been pretty boring. And there’s some truth to that. I haven’t gone on a safari or slayed a dragon or sailed the world in a single-masted boat… But when I really dig into my past, I realize how many things I have done. And some of those things are worth sharing, if not for the drama, then for the light they shed on who I am and how I got here.
This is a long-term project. I’ll add to it as I can, and as the memories come to me. Who knows if any of it will ever make it to print? But it’s something solid I can hold onto as those glory years fade farther and farther into the past.
And maybe, who knows, some future J. Scott Coatsworth scholar will read them and say “Aa ha! Here was his inspiration for [fill on the blank].”
One of my favorite Bastille songs is “Poet”:
“I’ve written you down now. You will live forever.”
One can only hope.