The First Draft Is You Telling Yourself Your Story - Memoirs and Biography

It was the last night of my four night visit to Rome.

I'd walked myself to the verge of exhaustion again and was having a final cup of tea in the bar/restaurant next to my hotel. Some new brick paving was being laid on the street and the bar was struggling to keep down the dust, even after the builders had finished for the day and the air conditioner was doing it's best to pump out some cool, moist air onto the tables and customers who were sitting outside with food and drinks.

Emerging from the haze of cold air combined with concrete dust, came a woman, glasses hanging lopsidedly from their cord around her neck, speaking a combination of English and Italian, from which we customers surmised that she had something annoying in her eye.  She lurched across to my table and asked if she could "leave this here a moment", laying down an A4 notebook, whilst squinting and protesting about the "something" in her eye as she did so.

"This stupid thing - it keeps coming and going," she announced loudly, to everyone. 

Someone at the table next to me asked if she would like a mirror and she took it gratefully and began inspecting the offending eye. After a while she gave up looking, returned the mirror and, still blinking and squinting, sat down at my table.

The conversation which followed was not unique to me in it's substance. In fact, it seems that as time goes by , the more likely I am to meet a woman of "well over middle age", who explains to me that she is a writer, travelling and writing about anything which takes her fancy but mainly the story of her life, as she goes. Sometimes the writing is a record of the places she has been and the people she has met, but overall, it is mainly the story of her life.  We then discuss the ins and outs of writing and publishing, finding that we have much in common, in the process.

In Northumberland, some years ago, I met Sylvia who had left her 'old' life behind, sold most of her possessions, apart from an old Fiesta car and a two man pop-up tent, and was spending her time between the northern mainland of England and the Orkney Islands whilst writing. We exchanged copies of our latest published work, only to be read when we had both said goodbye and departed. Of course. 

In Malaga, I met Suzanne who was Swedish and a retired nurse, living in the city, writing her memoirs and hoping to publish when completed. She had left her husband behind in Gothenburg but did not say if he was to join her or not. I remembered that it was Gothenburg, because I had been to Sweden, but not to that town. 

And here, in Rome was Daniella, a German ex - model and ex -  tourist guide living around the corner from the very place where we were sitting. I was clearly "in the right place at the right time" again, as she asked me if I would look at her writing and give her my views on it. Whilst I skimmed through the few pages  of her notes, she proceeded to recount her best and worst memories of her times with the rich and famous of the glitterati world. She pressed me further on her written style and content and though I did my best and she made frantic notes, the most useful advice I could give was for her to get either a computer or a SMART phone, and an internet connection. We talked about how to begin her story and agreed that the first draft is simply telling yourself your story, and then adapting it to who the story teller is; that is, will it be written in first or third person.  I wrote my name, phone number and this blog address in Daniella's little brown notebook, at her request and hoped that our paths crossing was a means for her to achieve her goals on her writing journey. 

Perhaps, there are some sort of "alike souls" at play in these meetings.

Perhaps I - subconsciously or otherwise - attract these people who appear to be kindred spirits. As we discuss our experiences and memories, and tell the tales of our lives, perhaps we are enriched by knowing that as human beings, we are very different to each other, but also, so very much the same. 

Or perhaps it is plain and simple coincidence.

Whatever the reason, it pleases me that these meetings occur and that I may have been able to help someone with a task that is neither easy nor difficult, but is a universal human need - a need to share our memoirs, which in turn helps us to move on in our lives. 

Reblogged from Write-Place 12/06/2019

NB - I have not had contact with any of these people since meeting them. I don't know if Daniella ever managed to get 'online' or whether she continued with telling the very interesting story of her life  but  I would reiterate my suggestion to her that I would edit her manuscript and help her to publish it, if the occasion arose. As time passes by, many of the people we have met fade further into the background of our lives but always remain as memories, if we choose them to be.