| Biographical Non-Fiction posted March 31, 2017 | Chapters: |
-Prologue- 1... 
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A preview of things to come
A chapter in the book Grammy's Memoirs 2018
Prologue
by Mustang Patty
This picture was taken when I was just eighteen years old. I was on a trip with my first husband in the Grand Canaries.
As my novel draws to a close, I find myself in search of another project. Somewhat surprising, I find myself looking inward. I've been reading one of my books on writing memoirs called Writing about Your Life, by William Zinser. So, I think I will write my history. You won't find any whining about the past. I've accepted, forgiven, and moved on. I only think about those things when I'm depressed.
Sitting here amongst my collection of books, dogs nestled close by, I realize I don't think I ever thought my life would be this way. Not the little girl who hid behind the couch while her parents argued and fought. Not the teenager who bore the beatings of her mother and sister. Nor the young girl that had to fight off her mother's boyfriends. I want to write something to portray what life was like, and share the history of my great-grandparents and their arrival in the United States.
The life I have now seems perfect to some. I could retire at fifty-five. I have a husband that loves me. My grown children are still a source of joy, though not always. We are comfortable and live within our means. I don't drink, do drugs, or gamble. I write when I want, I read and review on Fan Story, and I'm comfortable in my own skin.
The early years didn't indicate I would ever live the life I live now. Right before my mother died in 1998, she wrote me a short letter. For the first time in my life, she told me she was proud of me. She commented on my life and how good it was. That letter is one of my treasures.
This picture was taken when I was just eighteen years old. I was on a trip with my first husband in the Grand Canaries.
As my novel draws to a close, I find myself in search of another project. Somewhat surprising, I find myself looking inward. I've been reading one of my books on writing memoirs called Writing about Your Life, by William Zinser. So, I think I will write my history. You won't find any whining about the past. I've accepted, forgiven, and moved on. I only think about those things when I'm depressed.
Sitting here amongst my collection of books, dogs nestled close by, I realize I don't think I ever thought my life would be this way. Not the little girl who hid behind the couch while her parents argued and fought. Not the teenager who bore the beatings of her mother and sister. Nor the young girl that had to fight off her mother's boyfriends. I want to write something to portray what life was like, and share the history of my great-grandparents and their arrival in the United States.
The life I have now seems perfect to some. I could retire at fifty-five. I have a husband that loves me. My grown children are still a source of joy, though not always. We are comfortable and live within our means. I don't drink, do drugs, or gamble. I write when I want, I read and review on Fan Story, and I'm comfortable in my own skin.
The early years didn't indicate I would ever live the life I live now. Right before my mother died in 1998, she wrote me a short letter. For the first time in my life, she told me she was proud of me. She commented on my life and how good it was. That letter is one of my treasures.
As my novel draws to a close, I find myself in search of another project. Somewhat surprising, I find myself looking inward. I've been reading one of my books on writing memoirs called Writing about Your Life, by William Zinser. So, I think I will write my history. You won't find any whining about the past. I've accepted, forgiven, and moved on. I only think about those things when I'm depressed.
Sitting here amongst my collection of books, dogs nestled close by, I realize I don't think I ever thought my life would be this way. Not the little girl who hid behind the couch while her parents argued and fought. Not the teenager who bore the beatings of her mother and sister. Nor the young girl that had to fight off her mother's boyfriends. I want to write something to portray what life was like, and share the history of my great-grandparents and their arrival in the United States.
The life I have now seems perfect to some. I could retire at fifty-five. I have a husband that loves me. My grown children are still a source of joy, though not always. We are comfortable and live within our means. I don't drink, do drugs, or gamble. I write when I want, I read and review on Fan Story, and I'm comfortable in my own skin.
The early years didn't indicate I would ever live the life I live now. Right before my mother died in 1998, she wrote me a short letter. For the first time in my life, she told me she was proud of me. She commented on my life and how good it was. That letter is one of my treasures.
 Recognized |
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From Wikipedia: A prologue or prolog (Greek, from pro, "before" and logos, "word") is an opening to a story that establishes the context and gives background details, often some earlier story that ties into the main one, and other miscellaneous information. The Ancient Greek 'logos' included the modern meaning of prologue, but was of wider significance, more like the meaning of preface. The importance, therefore, of the prologue in Greek drama was very great; it sometimes almost took the place of a romance, to which, or to an episode in which, the play itself succeeded.
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