Tag Archives: Memoir

Not Exactly Love: A Memoir by Betty Hafner

GoodReads For Women

Alt=Not Exactly Love: A Memoir by Betty Hafner

It was 1969, and all the rules were changing, when Betty, a woefully single French teacher on Long Island, met the handsome but edgy new teacher at her school, a hippie just back from Woodstock. His vitality opened up a new world to her—but when they married, his rages turned against her, and often ended with physical violence. Like millions of women who discover they’ve married an abusive man, Betty was forced to make daily decisions—to suppress her feelings or risk confrontation, to keep it secret or report, and ultimately, to live with it or leave.

Part memoir, part warm-hearted look at the ’70s, and part therapeutic journey, Not Exactly Love: A Memoir is an intense and inspirational story of a woman who grew from her experience


It’s 1969, on Long Island, NY, unmarried and single French teacher, Betty, meets a…

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When It’s Time To Stop Auditioning, Give Yourself the Job: Self/Hybrid Publish

| Rock+Paper+Music |

Let me start with a disclaimer: this is not a screed against traditional publishing. Yes, those are trendy and you’ll find lots of them out there, but this is not one. Life has taught me that when something sustains as long as traditional publishing has, it’s because it remains, however confounded and confused, a vital player in the scheme of things. I’d say that’s the case with the Big 5.

This is, instead, a few of my cobbled thoughts on the topic of why one might choose otherwise; why one might self-publish, or hybrid publish, or publish outside the realm of that iconic process of securing an agent who’ll, hopefully, wrangle a publishing deal, that will, hopefully, vaunt you into the stratosphere of big awards and New York Times bestseller lists. As much as one might dream of that starry-eyed path to literary greatness, there are myriad reasons why one might choose…

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12 Reasons You’re Not Writing What You Want to Write

Novelty Revisions

1. You don’t know what you really want to write about yet.

2. You have a lot going on, and just haven’t made the time for it lately.

3. Or, more accurately, your time management skills need some work. (You know who you are.)

4. You’re not sure spending time on the thing you REALLY want to work on will actually be worth it.

5. You’re mostly writing about what you know your friends/family would be interested in reading.

6. You’re sticking with what’s most popular, because it’s safer.

7. You know what’s going to — and what isn’t going to — make you the most money.

8. You haven’t broken into your “niche space” yet, or don’t know how to.

9. You’re convinced it’s not “unique” enough to matter.

10. Two words: Self. Doubt.

11. You know getting it “right” is going to take a lot of work, and…

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Narrative Endings

via Writing Narrative Endings – Infographic…


South African Roots and Apartheid’s Influence, with a Sense of Humor

What's Nonfiction?

Book review: Born a Crime, by Trevor Noah

Where most children are proof of their parents’ love, I was the proof of their criminality.

Apartheid is one of those subjects that I know embarrassingly little about beyond the basics. If you’re in the same position, I highly recommend comedian and Daily Show host Trevor Noah’s 2016 memoir, Born a Crime, of his unique experience growing up as mixed-race in apartheid-era South Africa. Noah was born to a South African Xhosa mother and a white Swiss father. His very existence was a serious crime under the laws of apartheid, under which both sexual and romantic relationships between blacks and whites was penalized criminally.

Apartheid was a police state, a system of surveillance and laws designed to keep black people under total control. A full compendium of those laws would run more than three thousand pages and weigh approximately ten pounds…

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New Shingle

Since publishing my memoir Even Rain Is Just Water last June, I’ve come to learn the power of book reviews as marketing tools. (Also, it’s been a minute since I posted a review to my Review Page.) So, I’m officially hanging out my Book Reviewer shingle.

If you published a memoir last year, and would like an honest review of your book, please email me via my Contact Page. There are 18 slots available, beginning March 15th. (I’ll need your book at least two weeks before the review.) First come, first serve.

I look forward to reading your stories!


My online Memoir Writing Class will be launching soon! Please sign up here to receive info about the upcoming class via newsletter.



The Idea of a Memoir (Part One)

A writer & her sentimental muse

Photo Credit: Princeton Public Library

The idea or writing a memoir keeps coming to mind time and time again.  Why should I write one?  Who would want to hear my story anyway? And, what the heck the difference between a memoir and autobiography?

I found this that proved quite helpful:

Photo Credit: Susan Calder

And to break it down to the actual characteristics of a memoir:

Photo Credit: Linkedin Slideshare (Click on image for original source)

My next challenge is whatto write about.   So much has happened over the course of my life, I don’t even know where to begin.  I went to my Twitter and started to browse through my tweets for the last year or so and I discovered two tweets where I managed to condense my life down to six words:

Unraveled by losses; rebuilt by love.


Life. Just tears in the rain.

The word…

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Why i wrote a memoir

Nancy Chadwick, Memoir Writer

1st Day

One August afternoon in 1967, Mom dressed me in a navy dress, patterned in tiny white polka dots, with an appliqué of paintbrushes and an artist’s palette in primary colors at the hem, and a white Peter Pan collar around my neck. White anklet socked feet, fitting snuggly into blood-red Mary Janes, anchored my chubby legs. While standing at attention in front of my house’s picture window with my feet together and my hands folded in front, I posed with my heels brushing against the yellow marigolds in full bloom under a toasty blanket of Indian summer sun. My birch tree buddy stood tall and arabesque in front of me, extending its tree branches in effort to shield me from the sun. I was present in those moments as I stood before my house and my tree waiting for my picture to be taken. Life was good.

This was my…

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