Hi. Hello.

A bit of background on Memoir(ish)

Welcome.

This is where I will be writing things down instead of moving to another city. Growth, but stationary. Groundbreaking.

Memoir(ish) is a collection of stories — some remembered clearly, some reconstructed responsibly, all told in good faith and with minimal self-mythologizing. This will not be a tidy memoir with a redemptive arc and a tasteful lesson at the end. In truth, I’m not fond of the word “memoir”. Anyone under the age and experience level of Cher has no business writing a proper memoir. That might be an overblown statement, but… you know what I mean.

Anyway. This will unfold in parts. There will be series. There will be returns. There may be contradictions. Memory may be confident, but it can be malleable.

Some pieces (such as the first, The Abacus) will be written in the spirit of Christopher Isherwood’s “I am a camera” — observant, restrained, recording without excessive commentary. In those entries, I will stand in the room and tell you what happened. Other pieces will be less composed. The camera may tilt. The narrator (me) may confess inner thoughts, or the protagonist (also me) might. The lighting may not flatter anyone, least of all me.

You should read this slowly. Not because it is precious, but because it builds. A scene may echo later. A line may return in a different light. This is less a feed and more an account — ongoing, revised, occasionally amended in the margins.

There will be grief. There will be humor. There will be discovery. There will be moments where I behaved impeccably and others where I absolutely did not. We will observe both (and honestly, probably more of the latter than the former).

Now, about subscriptions:

Memoir(ish) is free. That’s right, free subscribers gain access to all posts and the full archive.

If you can, please consider a paid monthly subscription for the low, low monthly cost of $5. This unlocks the deep psychological reward of helping me to continue doing this.

If you over-budgeted coffee and happen to have something extra to spare, an annual subscription of $50 helps ensure I continue writing instead of pivoting (again) (I know you’re new here, but that will make sense in time so stick with me, k?).

And if you are feeling particularly generous — or particularly invested in seeing how this turns out — you can become a Founding Patron with a gift of $250. This will help guarantee future installments, sustained introspection, and a measurable reduction in my temptation to process everything by relocating.

Thank you for being here.