Beginnings
by Grant Faulkner
We’re beginning a big new endeavor, and we thank you for joining us!
Eight years ago, when my father died, I thought, If he would have written only 10,000 words, that would have been more precious than anything else he left behind.
In that moment, the idea for this new venture, Memoir Nation, was conceived. But like many a creative idea, the idea needed to marinate (or ferment, per the metaphor of this essay) for several years until it found the right time and place and … the right wonderful partner—meaning Brooke Warner, my co-host of the Write-minded podcast for nearly seven years.
This past year we’ve worked on launching Memoir Nation, which is equal parts movement, support group, educational center, community, accountability engine, and fountain of inspiration.
Memoir Nation is for every type of writer, no matter if you want to write 10,000 words or 100,000 words of your life story, no matter if it's just your story for friends and family or if you want to publish it traditionally.
One guiding mission for us is how memoirs have changed our culture by de-stigmatizing so many “taboo” subjects like addiction, sexual abuse, mental health issues, and more. Memoirs have opened up national discussions that have led to greater connections, greater care, and even policy changes—so Brooke and I want to help others to unearth their stories and put them into the world to change the world.
I always tell writers that the key to good writing is to be vulnerable on the page, and the genre of memoir is defined around that. So, to write your life story is to find yourself—and to give yourself to others.
Today, we’re going to ponder beginnings—and celebrate the way you’ve helped us begin just by signing up.
I like to think of the mysterious powers of fermentation.
As soon as the skin of a grape is broken, a drama begins. A grape isn’t just a grape—it’s full of sugars, teeming with rollicking, rambunctious yeasts that live on its skin. When the skin splits, the yeasts mix with the sugars, setting off thousands of reactions. All of the essences of the grape—the soil of the region it was grown in, the climate that nurtured it—are drawn forth from the fungi and transformed into the nuanced and mysterious character of a fine wine.
This is a metaphor for every story, every memoir.
All of life is a never-ending process of fermentation, one element mixing with another in a cauldron of juxtapositions. The addition of just one new ingredient can catalyze unknown qualities.
“A soul is but the last bubble of a long fermentation in the world,” said the author George Santayana.
The same can be said of a story. The beginning of a story occurs when the skin of a grape is broken, when the sugars of your ideas mix with the yeasty drama of your words on the page. The word “ferment” is derived from the Latin verb fervere, which means to boil, since the bubbling and foaming of fermenting beverages is akin to boiling.
Ask yourself how to let your story bubble and foam, what catalysts will ignite your drama, how to find just the right balance of tannnins, the proper level of acidity, to draw the reader in to the swirls of your story.