The Life You Could Have opens in an emergency room, continues with a narrative of family mythology, and is followed with imagery alluding to the sexual molestation of an infant, disguised in what could be interpreted as a poem about breastfeeding. This poem was well received during a workshop at Beyond Baroque Literary Arts Center, largely in the latter interpretation. However, a few noticed something more sinister within it, which they expressed hesitation to specify openly. “I’m afraid to say what I am thinking,” one said. This catastrophic subplot is revealed in pieces throughout the collection, crafted with artfulness rather than in exposition, and with an arrangement intended to be seen as, “smart, subtle, dark, and yet funny,” as was said by award-winning novelist John Dalton, of one of its pieces.
Personal stories of early childhood psychological abuse, pervasive oppressing economic class prejudice, two traumatic brain injuries – – one of which spawned a near-death experience – – continual sexual predation, permanent estrangement, repeating suicidal ideation, critiques of journalism, the Supreme Court, protestors, and English majors, the suggestion of dispassionate forgiveness as both best political strategy and personal survival tactic, and an unconventional turn to faith in the face of the speaker’s flirtation with determinism are included. Closing narratives explore questions of the actual accuracy of storytelling and propose a more transcendental acceptance of the incertitude of life.
Creative liberties, including occasional third-person narrative and dialog rejuvenation, have been used. The large majority of the word count is creative nonfiction, and a sliver is lined poetry. Essays within have been called both “searing,” by Dorothy Parker’s Ashes, and “intentionally offensive,” by Fourth Genre in personal rejection notes from editors. However, more than a dozen pieces within the collection were published, including by highly selective literary journals such as Reed Magazine and Storm Cellar. One was nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and another took second place in a national essay competition. The work is trenchant, irreverent, and voice-driven with an often working- and lower-class vernacular.
Photo credit: John-Mark Kuznietsov
The Life You Could Have: a memoir 