Hey, it's Manoush. I am here with one more bonus episode to give all of our listeners a look into what we make for TED Radio Hour Plus. So Plus supports all the work we do, and as a supporter, you get access to ad-free episodes as well as extra interviews with TED speakers and practical advice from experts. You can go to plus.npr.org to find out more. OK, so here's what we got for you. It is that time of year, maybe when we feel a little wistful.
about what was and what's even to come. And maybe you have thought about getting some of those thoughts down on paper, even writing a memoir, maybe for yourself or even to share with the world. So writer Kelly Corrigan was recently on our episode about how to be brave in relationships. But I also wanted to ask her about how she approaches her craft. Because Kelly became a best-selling author by writing about the mundane and ordinary aspects of her family's life and her own life.
Capturing those moments in an extraordinary way, I want to read you a brief passage from her latest book, which is called Tell Me More. It's about spending time with her dad during the last few days of his life. After we got him to bed that night, my mom explained that he came downstairs once a day to sit by his new gas fireplace that turned on with a remote control. She also said his pain was extraordinary.
Cancer that had been many years before in his bladder had bloomed in his right shoulder blade and rooted in several spots along his spine. Still, for the four or five hours a day when he was awake, my mom said he was himself, which is to say, positive. During that first week when he wasn't in his spot by the fire, my mom, my brothers, and I cycled in and out of his bedroom, pulling up a chair if he was awake, turning off his light if he had fallen asleep.
There was so little to be done, so little that could be done. We watched whatever was on ESPN, even bowling, and talked about Duke basketball, Notre Dame lacrosse, and whether LeBron could hold off the Warriors. I felt lucky that my work and my children were back in California, too far to pull me from him. Edward, that's her husband, kept saying, stay, we're fine. So I did.
For 14 days, I cleaned his reading glasses and showed him pictures on my phone, stretching them so he could see the detail hidden in the pixels, which often led us into the catalog of spectacular people he had known, the all-time greats as he was. dubbed them. Listening to him gush about Jock Janky and Noodles Nolker, it occurred to me that if this newest cancer was going to kill him, he had made good on life's most exquisite promise. He loved...
and was loved in equal measure. Isn't that so beautiful? So how does Kelly do it? I wanted to understand her approach. When we come back, our chat about writing, her dad, her wildly successful memoir, The Middle Place, and her best advice on how to get started. I think a lot of people, we live in an age where we really think about chronicling and documenting our lives. What are your suggestions to anyone who's thinking?
I want to start doing this, either for myself or maybe for a wider audience. I think it's a daily habit. I think there's a lot of value in reading while you're writing. I think it's helpful to have a little writing group. or like an accountability partner. I also think it's interesting and bonding, so you get a lot of value out of it in and of itself, and then also it can help move you along in the writing process.
I think having a fantasy about who you would give this book to or these pages to or this document to can be very motivating. Like for me, that's what got me. to sit down every day was, I'm going to write the story of what it is for me to be George Corrigan's daughter, and I'm going to hand it to him. I'm going to give it to him. And I did. And he put it in his bathrobe pocket.
So I was like waiting for him at the kitchen table one morning. And I was like, here. And I had tears in my eyes. He's like, lovey, what is it? And I'm like, you'll see. And he went upstairs and he came downstairs like four hours later and he just put like his fist to his heart and was like. Lovey. And I was like, I'm done. That's all I needed. I mean, the outcome of that book is so crazy that it had this.
fantastic commercial life and we passed obama on the bestseller list and my husband made this classic joke of like do you think michelle just rolled over to Barack with the New York Times bestseller list in her hand and said, who the hell is Kelly Corrigan? Which was like the perfect visualization. So that it had a life for people is kind of amazing. I mean, my mom, when she read it, said, well, Kelly, it's very good. There are no grammatical.
errors and there's no spelling errors but who's gonna want to read about us like we're not rich we're not poor we're not dumb we're not stupid like it just and i said i don't know i really don't know Like, that's not actually our problem. That's the publisher's problem. But I hear what you're saying. Like, I do think it's unlikely that people are going to want to read about us.
Nonfiction bestseller list. It's a lot of men and it's a lot of men's stories. Like it's at the time it was Barack Obama and Tony Dungy, who was an NFL coach and like Leia Coca. So there are all these. business, sports, musicians, actors, writing their memoirs. Conquering heroes. Yeah, conquering heroes. And then there was like my dad, basically.
And I would say, week after week, I would say to my dad, how crazy is this? Like, you're on the bestseller list. You. This is what people want. It's just a story about an ordinary guy who's... was especially good at loving people. That's so great. That's such a great fact about the world that people are interested in that story because...
There's typically, like, one slot on the nonfiction side for somebody like me. Like, Eat, Pray, Love held the slot for a long time. Before me was Glass Castle. But those are typically, like, horror stories in a way. Yeah. Shocking. Yeah. Abuse and rape and abject poverty. And this was like such a happy story. It was a love story, basically. And it worked and people wanted it. I just think that's so great.
Maybe that's why I'm an optimist, you know? Well, for sure. One of the things, though, that I think... is so attractive about your writing is that you're very, very detail oriented. And so the mundane, you just feel like you're standing next to you eavesdropping, like you note how strong the drinks are. what color the pile of laundry was that was annoying the crap out of you. And did you keep journals? I did. Like, how do you? I did, I do, yeah. Every day? No, but more than once a week.
And for so long now, Manoush, like seventh grade. So, I mean, I have like I have crates. And also I was a letter writer. So I used to write these long, detailed letters home from Camp Taqua. I used to go to. this YMCA camp on the Chesapeake Bay, for a month every August. And I would send home like 14-page letters about the bug juice and the Sioux Ute dance and the tetherball match. And so I...
think that for a long time I was in the habit of chronicling and categorizing what was happening. And, you know, it's funny, I have done a little teaching. over the years, and I always say to people, it's the detail that makes it come alive. So don't say, like, I had a drink. Say...
I had a soda. And don't say I had a soda. Say I had a Fanta. And don't say I had a Fanta. Say I had a grape Fanta. And don't say I had a grape Fanta. Say I had a grape Fanta and the condensation was making my whole hand wet. Like all of a sudden. You went from like having a drink to being somewhere, to being this one place in space and time with this one set of objects around you. And that's just a totally different experience for a reader.
And I feel like that in person, like I feel like that's the difference between a good conversation and a great conversation and a good question and a great question. Do you think you have to be a writer? You sound like you've always been compelled. I struggle with this. Like, I don't think, like, it hurts me to sit down and write. And I think there are other people who are like, they just like.
Their body just like moves them to the desk and they pick up the pen and like there's a force within them that takes their ideas and puts them on the page. That is not me. That is not me. Oh, good. Okay. I mean, I'm compelled to communicate. I'm compelled to make sense. I'm compelled to compare notes. But it doesn't have to be in writing.
And in fact, in all the ways that I work in the world to do those three things, writing is the least satisfying for me because it's solitary and I'm not a solitary gal. And sometimes I feel like the reason why the writing right now in the wake of my mom dying is... more enjoyable for me is because grief is isolating and so i might as well just be in it and and try to make sense of it and you know like i cry a lot when i'm writing
And that's probably a good thing. I mean, it probably helps move things along inside me. That was best-selling memoirist Kelly Corrigan. Her latest book is called Tell Me More. Again, if you'd like to get access to all of our bonus episodes and ad-free listening and support public radio. please consider signing up for TED Radio Hour Plus.
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