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	<title>Anthology of Memoir Writing &#8211; The Memoir Network | RSS</title>
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	<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com</link>
	<description>Helping You Launch be well crafted, meaningful memoir</description>
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		<title>Hot Flash Memoir: Family Photo Album</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/hot-flash-memoir-family-photo-album/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/hot-flash-memoir-family-photo-album/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 17 Jun 2022 10:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jane Hertenstein]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology of Friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guest Bloggers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://thememoirnetwork.com/?p=16942</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/close-up-Italy-mountain.jpg?fit=183%2C240&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>This is how I learned about hot flash memoir. As I was cleaning out my parent’s house I made all kinds of discoveries. Like most kids (I’m referring to myself here), I never once thought of my parents as people. They were Mom and Dad. What they did before me really never entered my mind. [&#8230;]]]></description>
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	<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">16942</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>Listening to Grief: The Boys Laugh Again</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/listening-to-grief/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/listening-to-grief/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 16 Jun 2022 11:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edwina Jangarathis]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology - Clients]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Anthology of Memoir Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guest Bloggers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memoir writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[writing with pain]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://thememoirnetwork.com/?p=3604</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/TIM-257x300-1.jpg?fit=257%2C300&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>Eyes squeezed tightly shut, I listen for the laughter of my two grandsons as I drift on my rubber raft. I’m certain if I’m silent and try hard enough I’ll hear the laughter of the boys again. Glimpses of summer days when we laughed together flash through my mind. One day, we linked our three [&#8230;]]]></description>
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	<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">3604</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>Mining Memoir Depths: Spelunking of the Mind</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/mining-memoir-depths/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/mining-memoir-depths/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 08 Jun 2022 15:30:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Marilea Rabasa]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology of Friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guest Bloggers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Improving Your Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memoir]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memoir writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[selective memory]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[writing memoir]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://thememoirnetwork.com/?p=17186</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/inacave.jpg?fit=267%2C200&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>I enjoy many forms of physical exercise, from climbing mountains, to backpacking along trails, to bicycling, and even swimming. But mostly nowadays I just go hiking, sometimes with my grandchildren and partner, but often alone. Working the muscles of my body is good for me and helps keep my joints working. I feel better after [&#8230;]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>4</slash:comments>
	<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">17186</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>Becoming an American—Why Not?</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/becoming-american-why-not/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/becoming-american-why-not/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Dec 2020 11:08:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Lucille Ledoux]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology of Memoir Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[My Mother's Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[citizenship]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Franco-American history]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Franco-American story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Franco-American Women]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[growing up in the 1930s]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[immigration story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Maine history]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Maine Memories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memoir]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memoir writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[recording famiy stories.]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[woman's lifestory]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[women in history]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[women in Maine]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://memoirwritersblog.turningmemories.com/?p=934</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/WWNS6x9cover300x300.jpg?fit=300%2C300&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>DL— Stories about immigration and citizenship form the backbone of our great American story as much today as in past times.&#160; My ancestors were among the millions who came here in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Here is an excerpt about becoming an American from We Were Not Spoiled, the memoir of my mother [&#8230;]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<title>Cindy Doucette&#8217;s Memoir Has A Powerful Impact.</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/memoir-has-a-powerful-impact/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/memoir-has-a-powerful-impact/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 08 Oct 2020 10:28:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anonymous]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology - Clients]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Self-Publish a Memoir/]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[autobiography help]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[help writing memoirs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[writing with pain]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://turningmemories.wordpress.com/?p=355</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/DoucetteCover300x300.jpg?fit=300%2C300&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>Cindy Doucette (Berwick Maine) has seen her poignant story depicted in It Can Happen To Any Family used by the juvenile correctional system of York County, Maine, to effect turn arounds in young people.   Below is a testimonial written by a young person who was in the correctional system and who is testifying to the [&#8230;]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
	<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">355</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>Working in Saudi Arabia</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/working-in-saudi-arabia/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/working-in-saudi-arabia/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 23 Jul 2020 11:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Colin Guest]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology of Friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Business Memoirs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guest Bloggers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Professional Memoir]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memoir from abroad]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://thememoirnetwork.com/?p=11697</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Colin-Avator.jpg?fit=120%2C160&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>DL: The following is a guest post by a write who co-incidently bears the family name of Guest—Colin  Guest. It presents his first days working in Saudi Arabia. The excerpt is form Follow in the Tigerman&#8217;s Footsteps / The Memoirs of a Serial Expat. On my arrival at Jeddah Airport, now called the King Abdulaziz [&#8230;]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">11697</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>Drug Addiction: An Excerpt From It Can Happen In Any Family</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/a-story-of-tragic-loss/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/a-story-of-tragic-loss/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 22 Aug 2019 10:00:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Cindy Doucette]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology - Clients]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[book editing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[help writing memoirs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[working with a memoir editor]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://thememoirnetwork.com/?p=22184</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/DoucetteCover300x300.jpg?fit=300%2C300&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>The shock I had first experienced at hearing of Candice’s death had given way to overwhelming sadness. I had lost my daughter, my daughter in whom I had placed so many hopes when she was a baby and a little girl. (more&#8230;)]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">22184</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>From A Blind Date to A Matchless Marriage</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/labor-union-memoir/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/labor-union-memoir/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 18 Aug 2019 10:06:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Wally Linder]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology - Clients]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://thememoirnetwork.com/?p=22359</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Lindercover300x300.jpg?fit=300%2C300&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>Editor: The following is an excerpt from Walter Linder&#8217;s labor union memoir, A Life of Labor and Love / A Red Memoir. When I reached my early twenties, I was convinced I was too shy to ever get married. Although I had gone out on dates with various women, nothing had clicked. At 24, I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>https://thememoirnetwork.com/labor-union-memoir/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">22359</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>Retiring to Memoir Writing: Justine Powell Kuntz</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/retiring-to-memoir-writing/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/retiring-to-memoir-writing/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 31 Jan 2018 10:55:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Justine Kuntz]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology - Editors & Memoir Professionals]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Anthology of Memoir Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guest Bloggers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Professionals' Stories & Articles]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[family stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[help writing memoirs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memoir writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://memoirwritersblog.turningmemories.com/?p=554</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/JustineKuntz200.jpg?fit=200%2C238&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>Eight years ago as a retirement project for church, I introduced memoir writing&#8230; (more&#8230;)]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">554</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>Writing During An Illness</title>
		<link>https://thememoirnetwork.com/writing-during-an-illness/</link>
		<comments>https://thememoirnetwork.com/writing-during-an-illness/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 15 Jun 2017 10:00:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kathleen Pooler]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anthology of Friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guest Bloggers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Memoir Writer's Blog]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://thememoirnetwork.com/?p=16996</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p style="float: right; margin: 0 0 10px 15px; width:240px; height: auto;">
		<img src="https://i0.wp.com/thememoirnetwork.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/KathyPoolerBrighter.jpg?fit=200%2C300&#038;ssl=1" width="240" style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" />
		</p>“Writing is a way of processing our lives. And it can be a way of healing.”~ Jan Karon Most writers write because not writing creates distress. I speak for myself when I say, if I don’t get my quota of writing in during the day, I am up half the night, unable to sleep for [&#8230;]]]></description>
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