Paper trails
Following the threads of memoir, meaning + making
Welcome to Paper Trails, a behind-the-scenes glimpse into my branding and business book, and a return to life writing. I’m picking up where I left off…a little messily, a lot imperfectly.
When the ground shifts
On Sunday, I made my way back to a personal project for the first time in three years. But before I could get started, I read something that threw me off balance.
A writer whose work had deeply affected me — and whose memoir is referenced in my narrative non-fiction proposal — was suddenly at the centre of a very public reckoning. A frontpage spread had raised questions about their story, and I read it with a heavy heart. But it’s not my story to unpack. The conversation is nuanced and shifting. So I won’t dwell on the coverage itself, only on what it stirred in me.
I’ve read all their books. They even led me to one of my favourite illustrators. So the suggestion of deception felt dizzying after investing so much emotional energy.
Their lyrical journey gave me permission to hope, and the unfolding news has shown me just how fragile the contract between reader and writer can be.
And yet, nothing will undo the impact their book had on me.
More than one truth
The memoir arrived in a season of life that felt unrelentingly hard. It was proof that a ruin could almost become a road. It was possible to find a way forward.
People say they always suspected something was off. Maybe they did. But that doesn’t land well for those of us who were moved, who found meaning. It feels dismissive, almost disrespectful, especially when the truth remains so tangled.
It’s made me think about how we shape our stories — and how important it is to recognise the difference between reframing, which deepens our understanding, and rewriting, which alters what happened.
Whatever the outcome, and there may be truth in both perspectives, I believe that those of us who were looking for courage can still hold onto what we found.
That doesn’t have to be undone.
Making paper trails
Over the coming months, as I return to writing projects, I’ll be sharing half-shaped thoughts in a kind of “working notebook” — exploratory…unpolished.
This is a space for releasing the weight of expectation. And accepting that not everything has to be finished to be worth sharing. It’s created in the spirit of beginnings.
In the last few years, I just haven’t found the season for this, not for lack of trying. But my commitment is simply to write. To be on the page. To move towards words I’ve held at a distance.
The first thing I want to share is a glimpse into some life writing. Because memoir is a return. A vehicle for tending to the deeper parts of ourselves. And while I’ve longed to come back to mine, I’ve been circling it for a while.
Why? Life. Vulnerability and unpredictability. That’s often what keeps us away. But lately, in more spacious pockets of time and through writing circles, I’m easing back in. Read on for more plus a flash memoir piece.
