![\"This](\"https:\/\/media.giphy.com\/media\/JEhCPFfqi2Hy8\/giphy.gif\")
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I never thought I\u2019d like reading stories about other people\u2019s lives. Fiction was fine, but reality seemed boring and uneventful. When I was younger, my mom read The Little House on the Prairie<\/a><\/em> series to me, but that was about as close as I got to reading a book about a real person. It wasn\u2019t until later that I realized the beauty of someone else\u2019s story.<\/p>\n The first memoir I read on my own was written by a teacher I used to have. The book was called Signs of Life<\/a>,<\/em> and for a while everyone in my school was reading it. I remember getting calls from other students asking me what chapter I was on or whether or not I had finished yet. I attended readings with friends at the local Borders (*wipes tear away*). We talked about how impressive it was to know an author, to know a real person who had successfully published a book. I thought it was special to be let in on a story like that, but I assumed my real admiration for the book was due to the fact that I knew the author.<\/p>\n Then, another teacher of mine proved me wrong. He suggested that I read The Year of Magical Thinking<\/a><\/em> and Bone Black: Memoirs of Girlhood<\/a><\/em>. I was hesitant to take on a memoir written by someone I didn\u2019t know, but two memoirs? Two stranger\u2019s lives? That was downright scary. I didn\u2019t care about those authors. I didn\u2019t want to know their stories. What could have happened in their lives to warrant my attention? Well, after finishing both of those memoirs, I realized my answer. What could have happened in their lives? A lot. Why should I care about their stories? They\u2019re great stories.<\/p>\n Since then, I\u2019ve read many books about other people\u2019s lives. I find myself going to the bookstore and perusing aisles I never thought I\u2019d wander into. I still think it can be hard to be interested in a complete stranger\u2019s life, but I take baby steps. I read books that contain an element of memoir, personal narrative, nonfiction, or autobiography. Sometimes it can be hard to know where these books fall, but if I\u2019m not sure, I just try to read them and not to worry about it. Many books walk a fine line, but that doesn\u2019t mean one is necessarily better than another.<\/p>\n So, some days I\u2019ll pick up a book that can\u2019t be defined very well. Other days I\u2019ll try something that can. I\u2019ve read David Sedaris\u2019s Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim<\/a><\/em> to experience a bit of his life. Currently, I\u2019m reading Modern Romance<\/a><\/em>, and its combination of social science, humor, and nonfiction makes it really accessible and fun to read. I read books by authors who, for whatever reason, I can pretend I know a little. I read Amy Poehler\u2019s, Yes Please<\/a>,<\/em> because I had watched Parks and Recreation<\/em> for years. I read one of my favorite YouTube star Tyler Oakley\u2019s memoir, Binge<\/a><\/em>, because I\u2019d seen him online and it was cool he was from Michigan. These little connections helped me care more, but I\u2019m realizing I don\u2019t need them as much as I used to. Maybe not now, but soon I\u2019ll feel confident enough to read I Am Malala<\/a><\/em>, Unbroken<\/a>,<\/em> or some other critically acclaimed memoir or personal narrative that has been hovering at the top of my Goodreads list for months.<\/p>\n I\u2019m excited, because I know one thing very important: everyone has a story.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I never thought I\u2019d like reading stories about other people\u2019s lives. Fiction was fine, but reality seemed boring and uneventful. When I was younger, my mom read The Little House on the Prairie series to me, but that was about as close as I got to reading a book about a real person. It wasn\u2019t […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2179,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[873,880,876,245,877,881,870,878,872,871,874,767,875,882,879],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7028"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2179"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7028"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7028\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7038,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7028\/revisions\/7038"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7028"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7028"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7028"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}