THE WORST MOTHER IN THE WORLD?

Just returned from a wonderful memoir conference at the Omega Institute in Rhinebeck New York.

The program featured some wonderful writers including Susanna Sonnenberg, Darcy Steinke, Nick Flynn James Kullander, Fred Poole, Saïd Sayrafiezadeh, Susanna Sonnenberg, Darcey Steinke and Marta Szabo.

The two surviving memoir writing brothers of the "Flying McCourts" (my designation) were also on the program, but Malachy, the second oldest brother broke his hip and was in rehab. The youngest, Alphie, a wonderful writer and a charming, low-key, witty man with a marble intelligence did make it, however.

I'll talk first about Susanna Sonnenberg, author of Her Last Death: A Memoir, who now lives in Montana. Susanna, 44, is a survivor of a traumatic childhood. "You win, Susanna Sonnenberg. You have the worst mother in the world, " said one reviewer in reaction to her book.”A voice with a lot of integrity . . .  a fantastic writer" said another reviewer. In brief, Susanna's mother gave her cocaine when she was 12, and seduced Susanna's boyfriend when Susanna was 14.

I sat down with Susanna on the porch outside of the Institute's Café and talked with her for a while about her memoir and writing in general. Susanna's father and grandfather's, and stepmother all wrote memoirs, and she told me that she started writing at 11, with a diary which she maintained for over a decade. "I've always looked at the world through writing," she told me with a smile.

Susanna's earned money as a writer since college and in the last five years, she's been able to make her living that way. Regarding her memoir, which I will read soon (Omega's bookstore had sold-out all copies of it by the time I came along), she said, "the construction of "I" is where I trust my voice."

People come to write memoirs from different starting points. The focus of Susanna's was clear from the time she woke up at 4 AM one day and   saw the book in her mind. Shortly afterward, in response to an article that she published in Elle Magazine, four agents contacted her asking if she was working on a book. From there things went quickly, so quickly that she is embarrassed to say. But as she pointed out, Susanna had been writing for 25 years before she sold her memoir.

I also sat in on a workshop that Susanna ran for about 15 people. Unfortunately, although Susanna, for obvious reasons, has had issues of trust and betrayal, even though I had interviewed her, I did not make clear that I was attending the workshop as a journalist rather than as a participant. When I mentioned the prime reason for my presence at the workshop, everybody, including me, became upset. We straightened things out. But never underestimate the ability of a self-centered male to screw things up.

From a public reading at the end of the whole program, we all got a sense of what an extraordinarily fine writer Susanna is. In addition, during her workshop session, she demonstrated a wonderful sensitivity to other writers, crucial to being an excellent teacher which she is. "Write something you've never written before," she told the group. "I won't ask you to read it aloud. Don't worry." And we all followed suit. I wrote about THE most embarrassing moment in my life, but did so in a way that I realized that after revision it might even be publishable without giving me the embarrassment that would truly make me jump off a cliff.