My Life, Unwritten

I received an email this morning from an old school friend which was perfect timing for a post I've been thinking about writing since I started this blog. In my last email to him I mentioned my writing and he asked what my book was about.

they say the best thing to write about is things that you know/have experienced your self - so is it some kind of semi-autobiographical romance novel about the triumphs and tribulations of a strong willed foster kid, her quest for love and happiness, and the men she meets along the way, and who makes it good in the end ??

Now, I'll be honest – if I read what my friend has written as blurb on the back of a book I probably wouldn't open it. It sounds a little dull doesn't it? That's one of the reasons that I would never write an autobiography for publication. Unless I ever become famous/infamous and someone tries to do a hatchet job on me, in which case I will have to respond, but as that's highly unlikely I think we can go with 'never'. That's not to say I didn't have thoughts about writing one, just for my girls to read. I've been thinking about this for some years now, ever since The Freedom of Information Act meant that I was entitled to receive all the notes kept on me from my time in care (and boy was that an eye opener!)

When I first heard about May – You Write Your Novel I decided that it was the perfect opportunity for this particular project, but when I thought about writing it I realised there were parts of my life that I don't want my girls to read about. Not only do I not want them – or anyone else – to read about them, I don't even want to write about them. Ever.

So here's a question, is it still an autobiography if everything that's written actually happened, but everything that actually happened isn't written?