Thirty-nine of my students wrote stories last spring that have been published in an anthology called A Place Called Home. All of the stories focus on some aspect of home and are organized in the book under the following categories: My Childhood Home, Playing House, A Home Away from Home, Homes through the Years, Making a Home of My Own, and Returning Home. I am proud of the fine work displayed in these stories. If you’re interested in learning more about this collection, contact me at Dawn@MemoirMentor.com.

–Memoir Mentor

Congratulations to two more of my students who each took first place awards in the Santiago Canyon College Writing Contest, open to all students of the college. Marta Sarkissian took top honors in the short story division with her story, “Reunion with Mother,” and Meada Ouzounian won first prize in the poetry division with her clever poem, “The Clone.” They both should be proud of this fine achievement.

I have some gifted writers in my classes. I’m not bragging; I’m just stating a fact anyone would agree with if he or she read some of the stories these students produce. Take Bonnie Copeland, Willie Walker, and Betty Nelson, for instance. When they stand and read their stories in class, we all sit a little taller in our seats, lean forward, and listen a little more attentively, knowing they will show us how writing should be done.

Their teacher and classmates aren’t the only ones who feel this way.
Bonnie, Willie, and Betty have consistently won awards in writing contests. This year is the first time Bonnie and Willie have both garnered first-place awards in the same contest, the prestigious Southern California Genealogy Society Writing Competition. Willie took first place in the “Long Story” category with his piece “A Boy’s First Gun,” and Bonnie won first place in the “Short Story” category with her story “Chemistry for Girls.” Betty was awarded a second place honor in the “short story” category for her piece “Dad’s Lawn,” AND a third place award for her entry, “Eggrolls for Christmas” in the “long story” category. Way to go, Betty! These are achievements Bonnie, Willie and Betty can be proud of, since their stories were selected from a large field of submissions from writers all over the world. I’m pleased as punch to have them in my class. They make their teacher look good.

–Memoir Mentor

It has been about five weeks since my fall classes ended. During the break, I cooked Thanksgiving dinner for my family, which included my mother, my cousins, a good friend, and all of my children and grandchildren, except for my musician son who lives in Chicago. I branched into new territory this year and brined my turkey, with good results. I will do it again next year. We played a fun game as we sat around the table after dinner, letting our food settle in. Prior to the holiday I had asked everyone to email me short answers to the following questions: What was your most embarrassing experience? If you could trade places with anyone famous, who would it be, and why? When you get to the “Pearly Gates,” what question would you like to ask God? Though some of my children grumbled beforehand about having to participate in what they call a “Mom Game,” everyone participated and seemed to enjoy hearing what others had written. We heard lots of funny—and painful—stories about wetting pants, falling down, accidentally pulling security alarms, and other embarrssing faux pas.

On December 15 Morrie and I hosted our annual Christmas party for all my writing students. This year we had over 80 in attendance, which made it a challenge to find places for everyone sit down for dinner. As always, my students brought an abundance of delicious food and we all heaped our plates high in an hearty (and probably foolhardy) effort to sample everything. It was fun to have former students Gene Hensley, Tom Murphy, Andy Washington, Dori Miller, Ellie Rosenbaum, and Ruth McQuerry join us. After dinner we squeezed everyone into the living room and adjoining dining room for singing of Christmas carols (led by Andy Washington and accompanied by Morrie), and a few games. Chaos ensued when we divided into teams to create a Christmas limerick. I fed them the first line. Teammates huddled together and created a second line, then passed their paper on to another team to add a third line, and so forth, until all five lines had been completed. Morrie gathered all the limericks, picked the 10 he thought worked best, then submitted them to the crowd for judging. More chaos ensued. When the dust settled, we had a winning team. The victors magnanimously attributed their triumph to teammate Taoward Lee, guest of my student Bonnie Copeland.

Our Christmas day was quieter than usual. Two of my sons spent the holiday elsewhere this year. Our son David and his wife, Melanie, fulfilled a cherished dream to spend Christmas in Paris. So they flew off for some fun-filled days strolling through the “City of Light,” eating in sidewalk bistros, and then speeding through the Chunnel to take in some museums and theatre in London. Our son Matt proclaimed he also wanted to do something different this year, so he packed off his wife and our grandkids to snowy Park City, Utah. What sounded like a good idea to him, bummed us out considerably. He took our grandkids, after all. We were fortunate to have Tyson fly in from Chicago, however, and we ended up having a warm, festive day with Mom and our daughter, Ashley. Nevertheless, the day after Christmas, we packed up the car and headed for Park City and our grandkids. We were informed upon arrival that our six-year-old grandson, Quade, had celebrated Christmas Eve by stripping down and diving into a snow bank. His dad got it all on video to embarrass him when he becomes a teenager. (The photo above captures Quade busy with another pursuit: stealing icicles!) After several days of the busy, noisy family fun of eating together, playing games, sledding, watching movies, and making art projects, everyone departed for their respective homes, leaving a quiet house to Morrie and me and our dog, Emma. We brought our laptops with us and hope to spend a week in earnest creative pursuit. I packed everything I need to make some good progress on my Parrett Family History project. We’ll see… The blog that follows this one is meant for me as much as anyone!

One more thing…. I read a good book last week, Born Standing Up, the memoir of comedian Steve Martin. It’s a quick read and an interesting read, for me at least, because it chronicles his beginnings as an entertainer in a place and era that is my own, Orange County, California, in the fifties and sixties. He describes places as I remember them—Disneyland, Knotts Berry Farm, small folk music venues—as they were then, not now. The book reminded me of places and incidents I haven’t thought about in years. I also admired the memoir for its honesty. Because Martin is frank about mistakes he made and people he knew, the book felt real and true. You may find the book enjoyable if you admire Steve Martin or are interested in the development of comedy and television during that time period. He captures it well.
–Memoir Mentor

Several new students joined our ranks this term, bringing along their enthusiasm and creative ideas. Many jumped right in and wrote and shared delightful stories. Our newcomers included Diana Kightlinger, who soon enlisted two friends, Sharron Pankhurst and Shari Shaw. Others new to our group were Kathleen and Roy Anderson, Elnor Betzhold, Jim McKown, Melva Patton, Dorothy Pope, and Beverly Geddy.

It was gratifying to have former students return to class after being absent for awhile to pursue other activities. Returnees Pat and Dale Peterson had last attended class in 1999. What a surprise…they’re back! Barbara McLaughlin and Hans Lietz also returned after a hiatus. Alice Gordon returned as Alice Royer, after marrying Rich only a few weeks before the term began. She blew us away the last week of class with her engaging story about how her treasured pinecone-print skirt sparked a grade-school clash between the city kids and country kids.

I experimented with a new class format this term, introducing weekly in-class writing assignments based on a series of writing prompts tailored to specific life phases. Some weeks worked better than others. On our best days, everyone was busily engaged in a flurry of creative energy. A number of clever stories emerged from those short sessions. On other weeks, our elusive writing muse must have been inspiring writers elsewhere. One thing’s for sure: a number of students discovered the potential of a flash drive!

Susie Sufficool showed the Tuesday class how courage, desire, and perseverance can overcome the hurdles of a disability. Early in the term, the school outfitted a computer with an over-sized mouse and a foot pedal mechanism, enabling Susie to participate with us during our in-class writing sessions. Susie was as intrepid as ever. I watched as she clutched a round wooden stick in her fist and patiently tapped out each word. Because the process was so laborious, a 20-minute writing exercise often yielded only a few sentences. She humbled the rest of us who can so easily accomplish what for her requires a supreme effort. During the seven-week term, Susie produced two delightful, three-page stories about a charming family gathering she attended when she was seven.

I was excited to see students makes some creative breakthroughs this term, either writing more stories than ever before or advancing their writing skills a few notches by trying some new techniques. I think these developments were as gratifying for me as they were for the writers. There were a number of accomplishments: Catherine West completed her series of stories chronicling her World War II experience as a nurse and a young military bride; Bill McLain wrote about adolescent sexual awakening with honesty and sensitivity and sparked a lively discussion about how much should be disclosed in a personal history; former English teacher Pat Milligan branched out from the essay-style pieces that come naturally to her and experimented with re-creating a scene from her past—with great success; Marta Sarkissian bravely tackled the story she long knew she must write and showed us the power of candidly addressing a traumatic family matter.

Our classes plugged along while a few lucky ones travelled hither and yon. Among the places visited this term were China (two students), the great European rivers, Switzerland, Austria, Texas, New England, Portland (three students), and Georgia. Though Willie Walker is still calling Georgia home—at least for the near future—he surprised us all by stopping by on the last day of class. He gave us hope we may have him back with us at some point.

As always, we laughed a lot and shed a few tears now and then when poignant stories reached in and touched our hearts. And as before, we finished the term knowing each other a little better and feeling enriched by the experience of writing about our lives. I can think of little I enjoy more than being a cheerleader for such a rewarding, meaningful enterprise, and I’m looking forward to starting all over again when we reconvene in February.

If any students have special memories they’d like to contribute, click the “comments” link below.

–Memoir Mentor