And you know (because you've paid attention to the experts, of course) a person's best writing is usually about things he knows well, experiences he's had, past relationships, so on. And you figure you'll use the lively present tense voice because (naturally) you want your work to sound powerful and current. Well, here's a novelist's story about what happened when she did just that.
You really haven't lived until you've seen a college English class analyze your love life. The students, in my case, were discussing scenes from a book I'd written, a memoir about growing up fat and dealing with issues of body image, family, and relationships. A grad student acquaintance had chosen to assign it to her introductory lit course and she invited me to visit the class weblog and observe the discussion for a week. On the last day, she said, I could respond and answer questions.
I tingled to think about it. A lit class! Maybe they would talk about how I explored the shifting nature of identity or my subtle critique of diet culture. Or maybe they'd discover some other brilliant theme that my subconscious genius had woven into the rich tapestry of narrative! Instead they picked apart my choice of boyfriends. One day I checked the blog and found, to my horror... Read on.
