Intent isn’t enough

I’ve written two memoirs in verse. One about my mum’s journey with Alzheimer’s, and the other focuses on the cultural challenges and encounters we had during our first year in Turkey.

I’ve always planned to write a full-length memoir, and my Scrivener project file is a constant reminder that the memoir I started to capture our house buying adventure in Turkey was started on a damp April morning in 2008.

Even though I’ve written nearly 20k words towards this book, it’s still waiting to be crafted and published.

Here’s the first segment I wrote:

No Turning Back

3am on an April morning in 2008. We’re slumped on grubby white plastic patio furniture in the centre of the kitchen, after a grueling 27 hour journey from Los Angeles to Bodrum, via Heathrow and Gatwick. The dim light in the room shrouds it in sadness. I shiver, and draw me knees to my chest to get my feet off the white marble floors.

There’s scuff marks around the walls where furniture once stood, and these vacant spaces showcase the sloppy Turkish workmanship around the base boards and door frames. It’s going to take a lot of TLC to bring this house up to Red’s exacting standards!

The intricate Turkish Rugs I fell in love with when we purchased the house, might be lipstick on a pig, but would have brightened our arrival. We can’t find any of them, so can only assume they’ve been stolen by the previous owners.

He and I are both staring into space. Pensive in our own orbits. Letting the reality of the situation sink in. We sip our luke-warm duty free wine out of plastic cups, and use it to wash down the doughy white bread the property management company left as part of their welcome pack. Two plastic knives lay abandoned by the full-fat butter, which spent too long in a fridge set to Maximum.

But none of this dampens our mood. Our eyes meet. We grin like Cheshire Cats, and then in unison “we OWN a house in Turkey”.

That was written in 2008! That’s 10 years ago. A decade ago.

No matter what I call it … that’s a long time.

But I’m sure I’m not the only writer who feels they have a memoir inside of them, but just hasn’t got around to finishing it!

Through the years, I’ve added notes and reminders to Scrivener, so that when I do actually get around to finishing this memoir. I have easy access to the timeline of events. Let’s face it, ten years is a long time to keep track of your own life.

My working title is “Sugar Cube Houses under a Mavi Sky” … the hillside around our house is dotted with little white boxes. These houses were built for summer use, so have no insulation against the bitter winter winds and rain that visits briefly each year. I could probably fill a book up that just focuses on our ongoing battle with our damp basement. It’s been engrossing for us, but would probably dampen our readers enthusiasm! (Mavi, by the way, is Turkish for blue — but you don’t have to memorize this fact, because the book’s final title will defiantly change).

My New! Memoir

So why my sudden focus on memoir writing?

28 years ago, my best friend and I left our New York Chelsea apartment, and delivered other people’s cars across the States in search of a new destination to call home.

Two English girls, transported their worldy belongings and two cats, in three different cars, across twelve states, and ended up living in Phoenix for a year … before running back to Brooklyn.

Then life happened.

We both got married, Catherine in Barbados and me on the Hawaiian island of Kauai. I ended up postponing my return trip to extend my time in Barbados. All the other wedding guests had left by then, so it was just Catherine and her husband on honeymoon … and me. But don’t worry, they got their own back. They postponed their return flight from our Kauai wedding, and moved in with me and my new husband in our honeymoon condo. So not only did we attend each other’s wedding, we tagged along on each other’s honeymoons too. Even though she settled on the East coast, and I settled on the West Coast that friendship has endured (despite those honeymoon intrusions).

Three years ago I quit my corporate career, to become a travel writer and digital nomad. We still have that house in Turkey – the damp is fixed by the way. But we’re not there as often as I’d imagined, and as luck would have it, I’m temporarily back in Los Angeles for the summer.

I’m not the only one who did an about turn in my career path and living situation. Things have evolved for Catherine too. Last year she announced they were quitting their corporate careers, and selling their house as part of a transition to their new life. They’ve bought a piece of land in New Mexico, and architects are currently finishing off the plans for their eco-friendly hillside house with panoramic views.

Now here we are, nearly three decades later.

They’re moving out of their house in September to a temporary home in New Mexico to watch their house being built. Of course I don’t want to miss out on the fun, so I’m flying to New York to join Catherine so we can drive from New York to Albuquerque, and explore the southern states.

This time around we have more money, and more sense!

These two car journeys feel like bookends to a phase that is drawing to a close, and they have to be worthy of a memoir.

“Good Luck remembering the details of that 28 years trip Jay” I hear you scoff!

Don’t worry, during our first journey I meticulously documented our adventures in a travel journal, and despite moving multiple times across continents, I still have that book to remind me of how naive, foolhardy, impulsive, and obnoxious we both were back then.

Now I just have to figure out a way to tie those two journeys together – all I need is a theme!

+++ Update: My Mum fell down stairs and broke her hip and I rushed home to the UK, and missed out on this historic retracing of our steps. So this memoir project died.