My dissertation is a memoir based on my childhood experiences growing up with a mentally ill mother. She exhibited violence both passive and aggressive, and the memoir explores my relationship with her and my relationship with the world through her. "Damned Good Daughter" developed with my interest in creative nonfiction as a genre. I came to it after studying poetry, discovering that creative nonfiction offers a form that accommodates both the lyric impulse in poetry and the shaping impulse of story in fiction. In addition, the genre makes a place for the first person I in relation to the order and meaning of a life story. Using reverse chronology, my story begins with the present and regresses toward childhood, revealing the way life experiences with a mentally ill parent build on one another.

My mom sent me a picture after the last competitive game of soccer I will ever play. The picture is slightly blurry, the kind of blurry that results when the camera focuses on the background rather than the subject. You can make out the figure of a five or six year old, a soccer ball under her right arm, with what looks like a bagel firmly gripped in the other. It’s recognizably me in the picture, as my hairstyle hasn’t changed that much since I was six, maybe a little longer and blonder but otherwise the same. I’m pretty sure the T-shirt I’m wearing is from the first soccer team I ever played on. We were called the Golden Eagles, a majestic name for a group of six year olds. There’s a contorted expression on my face. I can only guess the cause. On one hand, the expression might mean I-don’t-want-my-picture-taken, directed at my Dad, who is probably behind the camera. The other possibility, the more likely one, is that I am trying to hold back tears. If someone else were to see the picture they might not see it. But I know that face too well, primarily because it feels as if my entire soccer career were consumed by trying to hold back those tears.

What is the boundary between fiction and nonfiction? What happens if the line between the two is crossed? Can we possibly recall events in our lives exactly as they happened? In creative nonfiction, such as memoir, the audience expects the writer to recall things exactly as they happened, with no embellishments, re-ordering, additions, or subtractions. It seems as if authors of creative nonfiction are bound to be questioned about events, nitpicked on details, challenged on memories, and accused of portraying real-life people the "wrong" way. Yet when the writer creates fiction, it seems to go the other way: readers like to think there are parallels between an author and her stories. Readers congratulate themselves for finding the similarities between the two, and instead of focusing on the crafted story at hand, try to search out which parts are "true" and which are embellished. Does any of this matter, though; don't all stories tell a kind of truth? We have an insatiable urge to classify, to "know" the truth, but truth isn't merely a recollection of cold facts; likewise, a story isn't any less true if it's fiction.

This memoir is about community, family and race relations as the author experiences them in New Jersey, where she grew up, at University of Maryland, where she went to college, in Washington, D.C., during Barack Obama’s presidency, and in New Orleans, where she lands in her late twenties. It is meant to shed light on the possibilities and beauty to be found in diverse, close-knit communities, where people share in each other’s joys and sorrows. It also speaks to the importance of romantic partnerships in which both people share the same values, and explore and grow together.

Thesis advisor: Paula Mathieu / The following work is a memoir that chronicles my grandmother’s battle with a rare form of frontotemporal dementia. This dementia robbed her of the ability to use and process language, though, unlike Alzheimer’s Disease, it did not affect her memory or capacity to recognize loved ones. My thesis follows my family’s journey as we learned to develop new methods of communication that did not rely on words, methods largely dependent on a vault of family memories passed down through several generations of strong women. Ultimately, my experience with my grandmother’s illness enabled me to come to new conclusions regarding the role of language in modern society, from the possibilities it creates to the boundaries it imposes. / Thesis (BA) — Boston College, 2010. / Submitted to: Boston College. College of Arts and Sciences. / Discipline: College Honors Program. / Discipline: English Honors Program. / Discipline: English.

This memoir chronicles a journey of faith. The narrator focuses on fundamental questions of existence while tackling the everyday difficulties of growing up. A fundamentalist Christian upbringing leaves little room for doubt. However, questions arise that the narrator cannot answer simply by opening her Bible. When she leaves her small town in Iowa for college, tiny cracks in her faith that she once easily stepped over become impassable canyons. She must face the reality that her worldview might be wrong. When she decides to follow the line of questioning her doubts have pulled her towards, she discovers a meaningful life apart from the fundamentalist Christianity of her childhood.

Scream If You Can is an episodic memoir that captures the driving lifestyle of southern California while focusing on significant life events of a twenty-something young woman. The memoir explores themes of family, trauma, and perseverance. Biculturalism and disability are explored alongside the use of education to make a better life for oneself.

No description available.

No description available.

This thesis is comprised of a critical component and a creative component. The creative component consists of a portfolio of creative writing drawn from a fictionalized memoir, and the critical component consists of three interconnected chapters analyzing the creative component. The creative component, titled The Accidental Peacemaker, has been written alongside my recently published (and related) book, How to Make Peace in the Middle East in Six Months or Less Without Leaving Your Apartment. It is a satirical, first-person fictionalized memoir about how the Middle East conflict manifests in North America, told from the point of view of a North American Jewish narrator. The critical component contextualizes the creative component by situating it within the disparate genres of creative writing that inform it, and by exploring its descent from them. Together, the three critical chapters argue that the creative component stands at the intersection of life writing, North American Jewish Writing, and humourous political writing. The first critical chapter, on life writing, examines the overlaps between fiction and memoir, and argues, in part, that from a creative writer's point of view, a sharp distinction is challenging to pinpoint. The second critical chapter, on North American Jewish writing, explores some efforts that have been made to determine what characteristics identify “Jewish writing,” and which identifying marks are germane to this particular piece of creative work. The third critical chapter, on humourous political writing, argues that humour and politics are particularly intertwined in North American writing and media today, and that by using humour and first-person life writing, an author can probe into sensitive political terrain without as much risk of needlessly offending as they might have if they used other approaches.