The Momoir Project

Sara Graefe

I was just home from the hospital with my newborn, sleep deprived and struggling with breast-feeding difficulties. Negotiating the stairs was excruciating, thanks to an unwanted C-section, and I couldn’t lift anything heavier than my baby. I sat there, dazed, in the gliding rocker, trying to nurse, as friends from near and far showered us with baby gifts – a zillion receiving blankets, tiny booties, the cutest little infant clothes. And in the midst of all the standard baby fare, one copy of Cori Howard’s anthology Between Interruptions: Thirty Women Tell the Truth About Motherhood.

The book was the best baby gift of all – a lifeline during those intense, early weeks. I made my way through the anthology one essay at a time, often reading through bleary eyes as my son slept and I endlessly pumped, trying to get my milk to come in. The other women’s stories made me feel less alone.

Still struggling to nurse, I started composing my own stories in my head as my son suckled at my breast. It was my way of processing, of making sense of this sudden, startling shift into the foreign land of new motherhood. But I was too tired, and way too busy, to write anything down. In my sleep-deprived delirium, I conjured perfectly-formed paragraphs that slipped away as quickly as they came, like an elusive dream.

I am no stranger to writing. I have freelanced for years as a professional playwright, screenwriter and television writer. I teach graduate courses in dramatic writing in a university MFA program. But after my son was born, I didn’t write a word for well over a year. As soon as I went back to work, what little time I had to myself was consumed by my teaching – by helping other people tell their stories. When I tried to dive back into my own writing – the half-finished scripts that had languished since my son’s arrival – I found myself blocked.

Then, one day, out for family brunch at a kid-friendly cafe, a flyer for the Momoir Project caught my eye: “Have you ever wanted to write about your experience with motherhood, but never had the time or energy?” I recognized Cori’s name from the anthology, and immediately wanted to sign up for the class. I knew intuitively this is what I needed to get the writing flowing again.

And sure enough, out it poured – it was as though a dam had burst. Memoir was a bold, new genre for me. It was daunting at first to share such personal material as non-fiction, to put myself and my family out there. But Cori gently walked us through the process step by step, giving us not only the tools, but also the courage to tell our stories.

It was inspiring to meet with like-minded women and hear their words. For the first time since my son was born, I felt a real of sense of community – fellow writers who got the new-mom part of me, whose eyes didn’t glaze over when I started talking about my toddler’s latest antics. Fellow moms who got the writer part of me, who shared deeper, more meaningful conversations than the superficial, playground chit-chat I endured with moms from my baby group or stroller-fit or sign class.

My involvement with The Momoir Project gave me the confidence to start sending out my non-fiction for publication, as well as the practical skills to navigate the business-side of this new genre. I tested the waters by submitting a piece to the Momoir Blog, “Too Close to Home,” in response to a brazen murder on my street in broad daylight. A short piece I wrote in class from a writing prompt on parenting and technology was published by Literary Mama.

I launched my own blog, Gay Girls Make Great Moms (queermommy.wordpress.com), in which I look at parenting through the distinct lens of being a lesbian mom in a predominantly straight world. I wrote a long essay chronicling my breast-feeding challenges, The Milk Bar is Empty, which I was invited to read at the Mamapalooza Festival in New York City. I’m currently working on my own anthology of queer conception and adoption stories, which grew out of my class work in Cori’s advanced writing class.

Writing about motherhood has opened the door to creative non-fiction on a range of topics. I wrote about my grandmother’s epic escape from Soviet-occupied East Germany (pushing her twin infants in a baby carriage through snow-covered mountains), a piece I’m currently shopping around to Canadian literary journals. I penned a personal essay about growing up queer in suburban Ottawa in the 80s for the Journal of the Canadian Lesbian and Gay Archives. I told the story of my experiences with a teacher who is a serial pedophile, recently published in Walk Myself Home: An Anthology to End Violence Against Women (Caitlin Press). I’ve just finished a piece on my same-sex wedding for a forthcoming, American anthology on lesbian marriage.

Writing about my son and my experiences as a parent has freed up me creatively, on all fronts. I’m happy to report that I’ve long since returned to my dramatic writing, and am currently working on a queer romantic comedy. All thanks to the Momoir Project.

Erin Macnair

I was browsing at an overpriced Mom’s clothing store when I came across a small piece of paper that changed the course of my life. Pawing through the stack of free mom porn by the door, I noticed a flyer that read: “Write your memoirs with other moms!” Interesting, I thought. I had wanted to write again. I slipped it into my diaper bag and promptly forgot about it for a week. When I was cleaning out my bag, the little slip of paper popped out onto the floor. Funny, how a tiny scrap of paper can become something so meaningful. I looked at the website for The Momoir Project and just about spit my tea out. “Holy S*@%!” My internal voice yelled. “This is the woman who wrote Between Interruptions!” (Edited. Whatever.)

I had been given the book a week earlier, and couldn’t put it down. I promptly signed up for Cori’s first class, and cajoled one of my friends into it. I loved it, craved it and could not wait for the next class. I needed the class for the writing exercises, but I mostly needed the bare honesty from a small group of women writers who had also borne children. I had felt an internalized isolation that lifted upon taking Cori’s class. I started to feel secure, safe, understood. Motherhood had thrown me: it was confusing and trying and wonderful and crappy all at once. In Cori’s class, we let our stories out, and I believe it healed wounds we didn’t know we had. And with Cori’s help, I began telling people I was a writer, which is what I am. I had just forgotten that simple fact.

A light bulb moment comes to you a few times in life, and writing again was mine. Meeting your mentor can do that for you, illuminating the dark hallways of your heart that you peer down but never allow yourself to enter. You enter, because a mentor guides you through, allows you to know yourself and what is possible. Cori gave me the tools to try and get published, and gave me the facts about how difficult it would be. And then she pushed me.

I am stubborn and persistent, which can be good and bad traits, but they did help me in getting published. First, I published a story in the Globe and Mail about how I wanted to divorce my cat. It was mostly tongue in cheek, but the ire it invoked by the online anonymous naysayers surprised me. Lesson one. They say if you want to piss people off, write about pets and children. People will always take an opposite viewpoint and then shoot you down. I get that now. If you want to read it, here it is.

Then came a tip from Cori. What about Family Connections, the B.C. Council for families’ newsletter? So I emailed them a story about postpartum, hoping that other Moms would benefit from my honesty. They printed the story and gave me an honorarium – my first! Here’s that story.

I then started emailing a new Mom’s magazine about doing a humour column. Bugging them, really, even though they said no a few times. Finally, they asked me if I could write something funny. I jumped at the change for my second printed story and first actual paying gig. It was for blush magazine, called, “And We Shall Name thee Bunny,” a do’s and don’ts of naming your child.

Somewhere in there I wrote a piece called, “Doppelganger,” about seeing a possible futuristic twin of me who didn’t have children. It was printed in the Reality mom zine. They also printed my Furry Underwear story, a piece about fears around talking to kids when it comes to sex. You can check those out here.

In Cori’s advanced publishing class, I had been working on a very intimate piece of story about my sadness at losing the sex life I used to have (and the body to go with it). I shopped it around to a few different magazines and sent it to an online Memoir site called Memoirsink. Lo and behold, I won second place in their writing contest and a hunk of cash. Whoo-hoo! I am still riding that one out.

I have also posted stories on these sties:

http://www.hybridmom.com/articles/live/parenting/shout-parenting-right-or-wrong

http://www.sweetspot.ca/SweetMama/guest_blogger/14202/through_the_looking_glass/

http://www.sweetspot.ca/SweetMama/guest_blogger/15655/one_body_one_mind/

Most recently, I got the news that an anthology called, Side Effects,  is going to publish a story of mine. This was another tip from Cori (always looking out for her students). She saw a call for submissions and let me know about it. The anthology is by people who have dealt with mental health in their immediate families, and is meant to be a helping hand for those who feel misunderstood. Its importance to me is huge, for helping others is what it’s all about, right? It comes out in 2012. I’ll let you know the link when I have it.

And last but not least, my first stepping stone: The Momoir Project’s website. Cori encouraged us to write for her, to get our name out there on the Internet, to get started. The pieces I have written there (The End, Workout Fantasies, Volume Control, My Mother, my Everything, On the Way to the Library) are very personal, very bare. Cori has given us that courage and permission to lay it out, which is tantamount to finding one’s “voice” and staying true to it. So I tell everyone who will listen about her class, and sometimes that is also in print. You can read that here.

Liesl Jurock

I’ve been writing since I was ten years old always with the aim of publishing, but it wasn’t until taking The Momoir Project courses that I finally achieved some regular success. I have always been an obsessive journal writer with several fiction projects on the go, but once becoming a mom, I started writing personal essays on my blog, Mama’s Log (http://www.mamaslog.com). It was my way to make sense of my transition to motherhood and the way it turned my world upside down. I soon found that I was not alone through reading other moms’ work and sharing my own pieces. Suddenly, I was compelled to develop an anthology of new mom stories.

Then I found Cori Howard’s book, Between Interruptions, and it was like finding the book I had wanted to create. The stories in the book completely resonated with me and inspired me to continue writing about motherhood. I couldn’t believe it when I found that Cori herself was teaching courses in how to write like this, and I signed up instantly, making the hour trek back and forth to Vancouver to be part of The Momoir Project.

Being part of The Momoir Project was like finding home. Here were other women with various levels of writing all sharing their personal stories about the joys and challenges of motherhood. Although I had writing experience, Cori showed us how to craft an essay, use scenes to weave ideas together and go deeper than the surface emotions. In the Level 2 class, she explained how to pitch stories, provided leads for where we could publish, and had us think of our writing in terms as an editor woud. She felt strongly that the publishing process did not have to be a mystery, and gave us the encouragement and confidence to feel like our work was worth publishing. For me, it was like flipping a switch between hoping I would be a writer one day to actually being a writer.

While taking The Momoir Project, I found the courage to really put myself out there and place value on what I have to offer. I volunteered to write columns for an online magazine, Women’s Post, and eventually negotiated a $30 fee/column. I did my first pitch to an online publication, Hybrid Mom, and now have a working relationship with the editor. I now regularly pitch and write for $25 US/article. I submitted the essay I produced during the Level 1 Momoir Project class to Chicken Soup for the Soul for New Moms and recently found out it’s been accepted. The compensation for this is $200 and 10 books, but I’m more excited about the fact that it will be published widely around the world.

My dream since I was ten years old was to write and publish a book. Since becoming a mom, I’ve had to wrestle with the fact that I don’t have quite enough time or focus to work on a full-length manuscript. But the Momoir Project taught me how to craft short essays in the free time that I do have, how to write for and find markets for my work, and how to get the confidence to just do it. Now, that my first piece is about to be published in a book, I’m one step closer to my dream and it’s all thanks to The Momoir Project.

Danielle Christopher

The Momoir Project came into my life when I was approaching the age that my mother was when she died. Having no stories of myself as a child, I was motivated to write down my own stories of motherhood for my children, in case I had the same fate. As a stay-at-home mom, I joined the online classes with Cori and loved being able to talk with other women while changing diapers.

I have since been published in many places. I am a regular contributor to The Momoir Project where I blog and tweet and post feature essays. I began my own personal blog www.justdworld.wordpress.com, where I write, on average, 300 to 600 words a day. I keep a notebook handy during the day so when inspiration hits, I can jot down a few ideas and type them out at night when the kids are asleep.

I have blogged for The Yummy Club (no money, but great exposure and connections to terrific people), and for many other great websites, again not for money but for the opportunity to be published and promoted. Among them: Amotherworld.com, Sweet Mama, A Bit Of Momsense, 5 Minutes For Mom, Wonder Moms. I have been published on Oh Baby magazine both online and in their print edition which is distributed, nationwide, in Sears baby departments. There was no money involved in that one either, but I got a byline.

When I first started getting compensation, it was through Mom Central, getting gift cards to Tim Horton’s and Chapter’s. Now, I am the main book reviewer for Women’s Post online where I am paid in free books and an average of $30 per post. I write SEO (Search Engine Optimization) web copy for Write Sourcing where I am paid an average $6.50 per 150 words.

Other parenting sites where I have been published pay $25 per post. I have had fun writing and am thrilled to be getting published. Writing has kept me sane during the all-nighters, tantrums (mine and the kids) and is therapeutic. Every writer tells me that if you write for money, it is not as organic. I write what I love and enjoy. I am not getting rich in dollars but am making a very modest part-time income. My scrapbook is full of the mom stories and technical writing that I have done. I am rich as writing fills a creative void that I didn’t know that needed filling until I came across The Momoir Project.

Lorrie Miller:
I stumbled across the Momoir Project while in the throes of a health crisis that gave me pause to contemplate everything in my life. A sheaf of paper pinned to a coffee-house bulletin-board caught my attention. So I registered for the Vancouver class and found myself out on my own — no kids, just me and my virginal notebook, waiting for ink to sully the pages.

My writing was not great, but cathartic. I promised not to hold back, to pour my feelings and ideas onto paper and see what came out. During the advanced class, I found an unexpected topic: sports. Longboard racing to be exact. My son is deeply involved in this and I wanted to explore my fear and his fearlessness. I’ve since had several articles published on this topic, in The Globe and Mail, Concrete Wave, 100% Skateboarding, Moms Team, Unkle, Silverfish Longboarding. I’ve started my own blog about it as well: http://haybalemother.blogspot.com/.

This, despite my son’s surprise, was not my only interest. I have written about our wild camping excursions in The Momoir Project, Island Parent and Motherhood Muse. And I have my own personal writing blog: http://lorriemiller.wordpress.com/. Some of the writing has paid, but so far only small honoraria or year-long subscriptions.

Aside from memoir writing, I continue to write both short and long fiction. In the most recent issue of Room Magazine http://www.roommagazine.com/, you can find the first chapter to my novel in progress. The story is called Cadwallader Creek. Since having my work accepted, I have joined the collective. I also organize a monthly meeting of Momoir students in Vancouver. Our gatherings have evolved into a fun and inspiring writing group.

In the Momoir Project I was shown how to focus my writing for particular publications, and also how to identify a good match with something that I’d already written. Cori says I’ve become a master at recycling my stories – a great freelance writing skill.

I am currently hoping to get a publisher for my novel. That’s my primary focus. But I continue to write about my kids and the writing process and how the two collide, intersect and enrich my experience of both.