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Already, I feel the need to stop. If I botch some detail (Was it a blackboard or a whiteboard? Did our physics teacher use a projector?), I risk discrediting myself—and then nothing I say will be believed. If I construct memories through narrative, I risk making too many mistakes. I might unintentionally invent details in order to build a well-drawn scene, and then another, and another, accumulating scenes until they fit a clear plot structure. But I also don’t want this to be an impressionistic series of images or abstract meditations on feelings. I want this to be artful, but the artistry ...more
Things We Didn't Talk About When I Was a Girl: A Memoir
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