How to write your fake memoir

"It's not the true reality, but it is my reality. There are times when I find it difficult to differentiate between reality and my inner world." ~~ Mishe Defonseca

“For whatever reason, I was really torn, and I thought it was my opportunity to put a voice to people who people don’t listen to,” ~~ Margaret Seltzer

“I don't think it is a novel. I still think it's a memoir.” ~~ James Frey

Everybody has a story to tell. Nobody says it has to be true. Mishe wasn't raised by wolves? Well, what do you know. You can make this s*** up. get a pencil, and an unsuspecting friend.

CHAPTER ONE

"[loud noise - all caps]!"

The sound woke me from a dead sleep. I rolled over, [physical condition], and blinked at the [light source] piercing my eyes to the back of my skull. My head was pounding, my fingers [color] and there was an incessant [sound] in my ears.

"Who are you?" I said, unable to see how many of them there were. "Where am I?"

Then it all came back to me.

I remembered that I had left my [relative's] home just last [day of the week], tired of the [colorfully bizarre abuse] and thinking only of my next score of [drug of choice]. I'd been hard-pounding since I was [age under 10] and now all I cared about was getting more. Throwing together a [sad cliched clothing container] of jeans, a sweatshirt, [drug paraphernalia] and [Rosebud-like childhood totem to be explained later], I had taken to Highway [#]. I didn't know where I was going, but I already knew where I'd been.

I already knew what it was like to [verb] over a [furniture] and [bodily function] out [building material]...already knew how to [verb] for cash without [-ing verb]...already knew that [dull proverb your Aunt Mable might say, like "no good deed goes unpunished"]. Now I wanted to know what it was like to feel [outdated slang for "good"].

I was [age between 15 and 20] years old........

CHAPTER SEVEN

..........[unusual first name from literature] tossed a cigarette to the ground where it hissed in a puddle. We had been travelling together now for [#] days, having slept in [inhuman location], [top that], and one night [a dangerous scene, featuring at least 2 hoodlums and a suspicious animal]. Tonight I just wanted to [verb], like the rest of the world does. I lay on my [body part] and thought about [food item]. [Literature name] pulled out a [noun] and treated us both to a [work of art]. For the first time, I [tired phrase for calm, formed in the past tense].........

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

......"You're all against me!" I [-ed verb] and [-ed martial arts move] my [body part] at the [adj] [adj] [fairy tale creature] that appeared on the end of my [piece of silverware]. "[Expletive borrowed from film]" it replied. I [-ed phrase borrowed from Appalachian folksong] and reached for [Rosebud totem]. Perhaps for the last time.....

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

.... Dr. [type of fabric] looked at me over his glasses and nodded slowly. "Are you telling me...?" He paused, and leaned forward, his [body part] on his [body part]. "Or are you telling... you?" I choked down a [fruit] in my throat and collapsed into tears. "[Outcry from popular culture]!" I sobbed....

EPILOGUE

[Relative] died at age [# greater than 80]. We never spoke again.

After [#] years of sobriety, [literature name] committed suicide by drinking [fuel].

I still keep in touch with Dr [fabric], but it's different now. He reminds me of where I've been...instead of where I'm going.