The Memoir Land Author Questionnaire #55: Christina Myers
"There’s almost nothing better than someone reaching out and saying, 'Me too, I know what you mean, I saw myself in that.'"
Since 2010, in various publications, I’ve interviewed authors—mostly memoirists—about aspects of writing and publishing. Initially I did this for my own edification, as someone who was struggling to find the courage and support to write and publish my memoir. I’m still curious about other authors’ experiences, and I know many of you are, too. So, inspired by the popularity of The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire, I’ve launched The Memoir Land Author Questionnaire.
Here’s the 55th installment, featuring Christina Myers, author of Halfway Home: Thoughts from Midlife. -Sari Botton
Christina Myers is a writer, editor, former journalist, and the author of Halfway Home: Thoughts from Midlife (2024, House of Anansi) and The List of Last Chances (2021, Caitlin Press), which was longlisted for the Leacock Medal and won a Canadian Book Club Award. She is a member of Da’naxda’xw First Nation, grew up all over Canada, and lives on the west coast with her family: one spouse, two kids, and at present count, four cats. Find her at www.cmyers.ca or on Instagram @chrismyerswrites.
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How old are you, and for how long have you been writing?
I’m 48 and I’ve been writing professionally since my 20s, when I started working as a newspaper reporter, but I’ve been writing in one way or another since I was a kid.
What’s the title of your latest book, and when was it published?
Halfway Home: Thoughts from Midlife – published May 2024 from House of Anansi.
What number book is this for you?
Two, technically, but I also published an anthology that I created/edited in 2020, which included the work of 24 non-fiction writers. I consider it one of “my babies”!
How do you categorize your book—as a memoir, memoir-in-essays, essay collection, creative nonfiction, graphic memoir, autofiction—and why?
I consider it an essay collection. Someone recently described it as a book that’s part memoir part cultural commentary in essay form, and I really liked that. There’s a connective thread throughout but the individual pieces could be read in isolation and stand on their own.
What is the “elevator pitch” for your book?
From first bra to first hot flashes, the essays in Halfway Home re-consider the lessons we’ve learned through media and culture–and from each other—about our bodies, gender roles, aging, parenting, and our own futures in an uncertain world, as we reach and move through midlife in a rapidly changing world.
I feel like this book was brewing for several years before I knew it was going to be a book. I was having the same conversations with peers over and over: how we felt about aging, about what was expected of us, about our lives, about what we had been taught in our childhoods and adolescence and how much the world was changing, in both wonderful and challenging ways. All of that began to emerge as themes I wanted to write about, to explore, to figure out...
What’s the back story of this book including your origin story as a writer? How did you become a writer, and how did this book come to be?
When I was a kid, if someone asked what I wanted to be, I always said “writer”—I asked for the same typewriter for Christmas several years in a row. But as I got older, I absorbed the message that wasn’t very realistic. Because I was fascinated by people, and by what makes us who we are, I ended up doing a degree in psychology, thinking I’d find a “real” job in that field. But near the very end of that degree, while walking across the campus back to my car, and quite literally thinking to myself, “Oh crap, what am I going to do next?” I picked up a copy of the student newspaper, flipped through it, and there was an item in it about a journalism program at another university a few hours away. It was a lightbulb moment, the first time I realized that I could write and make a career out of it, in a way that would also let me learn about and talk to and meet people.
I went home and called the program head. Two years later, I got my first newspaper job and I did that for most of my career. I loved writing about people, learning their stories. But the place I felt the most fulfilled was when I wrote personal columns, when I shared my own experiences—particularly the tough ones, when I had to be vulnerable and honest with the reader. The letters and emails I received back always confirmed for me the power of sharing stories, how much it means when we see ourselves in someone else’s experience or alternatively how much we can learn from someone whose life is very different from our own.
When I returned to more creative writing eight or nine years ago, it was personal essays that drew me the most, because it provided that same thing as the columns—a small window into a life. In some ways, I feel like this book was brewing for several years before I knew it was going to be a book. I was having the same conversations with peers over and over: how we felt about aging, about what was expected of us, about our lives, about what we had been taught in our childhoods and adolescence and how much the world was changing, in both wonderful and challenging ways. All of that began to emerge as themes I wanted to write about, to explore, to figure out— because the only way I figure myself out is by writing about it.
What were the hardest aspects of writing this book and getting it published?
Being really vulnerable and honest. There were topics in this book I had not discussed with anyone, that felt very private and personal. And there were times where it was clear to me that I could skirt around the heart of something and still write a decent essay out of it—but to do so would cheat me, cheat the reader. The heart was essential and if I didn’t have the bravery to expose it, it would be half the book it could be.
Publishing was an easier journey for me on this particular project—out of my earlier books, I think I had built a decent reputation and had an agent, so the process was simpler. But in publishing in general, whether it’s books or pitching an agent or sending out an essay for consideration, I would say the hardest part is always the waiting. Everything takes so long. (Especially for someone coming from a newsroom where decisions are made fast, and publishing is a 24-hour cycle!)
How did you handle writing about real people in your life? Did you use real or changed names and identifying details? Did you run passages or the whole book by people who appear in the narrative? Did you make changes they requested?
I didn’t use any names, so changing them was a moot question—that’s much trickier in a continuous memoir, but easier in essay. There were some people who would be easily identifiable—I mention my mom often in these essays, for example. My husband comes up several times. Anyone who knows me would know who they are, but none of what was included about them was contentious or problematic.
In other places, where an identity might be complicated (for example, one of the essays explores #metoo and experiences and relationships in my life), I was specific enough about an individual that they would recognize themselves but it’s unlikely anyone else would be able to. No, I didn’t run any sections past anyone for their approval or consideration; the essays are very specific to me and my experiences, and other people appear in relationship to me, but the essays are not about them.
I did ask my siblings if they wanted to take a look at one essay that explores our family history and identity, as there are complicated emotional aspects there and some messy history, but each of them said no, they’d read it when it came out and they trusted me to tell my story how I chose to. I’m always a bit on the fence about how much, if at all, we need to get a pass or approval from others—certainly writing about ourselves always includes those around us to one degree or another, and it can cause problems in families, with friendships, in relationships. I’ve seen it a lot. It’s a risk we weigh when writing about such private material. They might be mad if you write something that takes them by surprise, but what will you really do if you show it to them and they say no?
There were topics in this book I had not discussed with anyone, that felt very private and personal. And there were times where it was clear to me that I could skirt around the heart of something and still write a decent essay out of it—but to do so would cheat me, cheat the reader. The heart was essential and if I didn’t have the bravery to expose it, it would be half the book it could be.
Who is another writer you took inspiration from in producing this book? Was it a specific book, or their whole body of work? (Can be more than one writer or book.)
Jane Silcott’s book Everything Rustles. The beauty of the writing in it was very inspirational to me. I met her briefly at the end of a book event we both happened to be in attendance at a few months ago and I was so tongue-tied that I said “I PUT YOUR BOOK IN MY BOOK PROPOSAL!” and then floundered to explain that I meant that her work had been inspiring to me, that I had hoped to write something as beautiful as that, and had referenced it as a comp title in my original proposal. I am inspired by so many writers but in terms of non-fiction specifically, particularly in the last decade and Canadian, I’d name Ayelet Tsabari, Terese Marie Mailhot, Ivan Coyote, Scaachi Koul. And I’d add Rebecca Solnit, and … yes, of course, Joan Didion.
What advice would you give to aspiring writers looking to publish a book like yours, who are maybe afraid, or intimidated by the process?
Don’t get caught up thinking about all the steps that will be involved, or it might feel too big, too overwhelming. Start at the beginning and just do the first step, and the second, and so on. A writer friend of mine introduced me to this idea of the “non-zero day” which means you don’t have to write a million words every day, but you can move your project forward a little bit each day in some way … writing, yes, but some days that might look like research, editing, thinking about possible publishers, reading other people’s work, and so on. It might mean spending time thinking about what to do next, making a few little notes, anything. But you can always do a little something and if you have enough days with incremental forward movement, you’ll get to the end of it.
What do you love about writing?
That it creates connections to other people, that it reminds me I’m not alone in all this weird stuff that is forever spinning in my brain. There’s almost nothing better than someone reaching out and saying, “Me too, I know what you mean, I saw myself in that.” If they tell me they laughed out loud, or I made them cry, or they took a photo of a passage and sent it to a friend … that’s the most magical thing ever (and then it makes ME cry!)
What frustrates you about writing?
That I haven’t figured out how to write thousands of words every single day, day after day, because I always feel like I have more ideas than time and I’m afraid I’ll never get to write all the things I want to! And also that I am still waiting to feel like a “real writer.” If the Super Secret Society of Real Writers could come kidnap me and run me through the special handshakes and initiation process and give me the Super Secret Ring of Writerliness, that would be great.
What about writing surprises you?
How much writing about hard things almost always draws some of their power away. Like I have more ownership and control over the things that I write about and let other people read about.
Does your writing practice involve any kind of routine or writing at specific times?
My routine seems to vary depending on the project or kind of work I’m doing but in general I have to create some kind of consistent and specific schedule to get words onto the page—sometimes that looks like going to the library to work every day for a set amount of time, or having a word count I try to hit in a week, for example. I used to do a lot of waiting for the muse to show up and I’ve learned that she shows up best when I do the work even if I don’t really feel like it. Having said that, I’ve really embraced and believe the idea that my writing happens all the time, in my head, when I’m doing other things—going for walks, weeding the garden. So all of it is valuable, even if I’m not at my desk.
I’m always a bit on the fence about how much, if at all, we need to get a pass or approval from others—certainly writing about ourselves always includes those around us to one degree or another, and it can cause problems in families, with friendships, in relationships. I’ve seen it a lot. It’s a risk we weigh when writing about such private material. They might be mad if you write something that takes them by surprise, but what will you really do if you show it to them and they say no?
Do you engage in any other creative pursuits, professionally or for fun? Are there non-writing activities do you consider to be “writing” or supportive of your process?
I love sewing and gardening and cooking; I think of all of those things as sort of adjacent to writing because they make me feel creative and they’re often good thinking time. You sit down at a sewing machine or you start weeding, and your brain is suddenly turning over some idea or another. I’ve had a lot of lightbulb moments while doing those tasks!
What’s next for you? Do you have another book planned, or in the works?
I’m almost finished writing my next novel, and I have been slowly putting together another proposal for my next non-fiction project. The former is about a massive natural disaster and three strangers who find each other in the fallout of that event; the latter is about community and connection and food and meals.
And I’m currently working on an anthology, with a co-editor, about post-partum depression, which is something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time. And beyond that I’ve outlined some ideas that’s more in the women’s/romance category and want to co-write a book with my sister, based on an incredible idea she has been working on. I have a hard time staying in one genre, apparently.
Those “me too” moments are everything.
I loved reading this!