There’s really no way in heaven that I am going to have you people all up in my bed grass – as we say locally. But we can’t all be so circumspect. There are tons of others out there who have no problem speaking about things that should probably remain private.
Sure I’ve told you before about people who think that I’m a good listener, but those conversations are between me and them, and I’m not calling any names. And besides I realize that sometimes, some people just need to vent.
How does a person feel comfortable though, saying that he or she smoked an illegal substance, or had an abortion or had thoughts of killing himself or somebody else – without obscuring his face or altering her voice? But you can’t really do that if you’re hoping for a book deal or making the rounds on the talk-show circuit.
Most of us like to talk about ourselves and the types of people we are. How many times have you heard a person say, “Well if it had been me, I would have done so-and-so”?, because deep down we like others to know what we think. But some of us should really consider writing a tell-all book, since the details therein would let others know why we think it.
And why we do the things we do. And why we choose the wrong men. And why…
These days, everybody and her pig has written, is planning on writing or is in the process of writing a book. Some people are barely in their twenties and have already recorded for posterity, portions of their life (so far). Maybe they think that the rest of their years won’t be nearly as interesting as what’s gone already.
But increasingly, the scourge of too much information or TMI is masquerading in memoirs of people’s lives where you get to know every nook and see every cranny of the person’s life – and it goes way beyond the person’s favourite colour and most desired food.
The authors who write personal stories of childhood abuse, molestation, mental illness and other tales of woe, probably do so with the intention of helping other people who may be going through the same thing. But I don’t think the publishing houses would waste all that paper if they didn’t think that somebody’s anguish was going to make them a boatload of money too.
There’s nothing wrong with telling your true story if you want your life to be an “open book”, but as a reader of other people’s blogs, I am sometimes amazed at how deep down some people go into their souls, then open up their hands to show you. It’s cathartic, I guess, but no amount of accolades is going to make me go there.
Sure I’ll tell you some stories, but I think I’ll keep the information about my dysfunctional family entirely to myself.