What's in a memoir?

First of all, I didn't realize until yesterday that most of my little photos had been replaced by tiny wrenches. I'd fix it all, but I really don't care. Life is short, you know?

Alright, the writing thing. I'd begun a sort of "what I've learned so far" type thing before my hand got all gnarly. After a good re-reading I think it's funny. That was the whole intention. I'd only wrote twenty-seven pages but maybe I became bored with it or lost motivation. Maybe the determination just isn't there.

I'd still like to finish it. I have tiny scraps of paper all over the place from the computer desk to my car with oodles of great ideas. I just hadn't got back around to it. I'll admit, I did go through a bit of depression for a month or so. A month, at least. It's hard to stay motivated and in a routine when I get down. I was even having weird, vivid dreams that just made matters worse.

For years, I've wanted to put Shawn's story on paper, but he would never agree to it. I do believe I've finally talked him into it and if that's the case, that is what I shall be writing. I never could figure out how to do it, how to put it all into words to be read. It's so much easier to listen to fragmented stories. I'm still playing around with how it will be done.

Shawn laughs at me for all of this. I explained that I have images in my head, I can see them so clearly! I can see the movie being made; I've already chosen the soundtrack! What is the point of dreaming if you do not dream big? (And I'd do it too, only if I had final say in the film being made. You have to make sure things are done right, you know.)

(Laughter) "Who would want to watch a movie about my life?" Shawn said.
"Well, why not? It's got everything! Drama, humor, sadness.... I've seen worse movies!" I replied.

I never thought of it as a memoir though. Some of it would be told by the narrator, some of it in the first person. Some would be simple observations. Of course there's always the option of turning it into a fiction and that opens the door for much exaggeration. Personally, I'd like to keep it honest and true.

"If I did this, and it got published-ha ha-people would read it. They would know these things. Would you be embarrassed or ashamed of anything here?" I asked Shawn.
"Um.....no. That was a long time ago."

Indeed it was. I'll openly admit there are plenty of things I intend to write about myself that will probably mortify my mother. But it wouldn't be worth reading if it wasn't honest. And I'm a terrible liar. Anyone would spot the false stories a mile away, especially if I told them. We've both done things that we're not proud of, things that we would hate for others to know.

But, in the end, that is who we were. It is not who we are. Perhaps if we go through with this, if I am able to put all of Shawn's stories on paper (or screen and hard drive, as it were), some can learn from our mistakes. After all, isn't that what a big part of writing a so-called memoir all about?