Have you ever seen a Magic Lantern? Not the kind you rub to make a genie appear!
Reflections from Modern Memoirs Client David B. Dearinger
David B. Dearinger published his book entitled A Southern Madam and Her Man with Modern Memoirs in 2023. After a decade of family-history research, this dual biography of two of Dearinger’s ancestors took one year and two months from the day he first contacted us to the day books arrived on his doorstep and became available for sale. We asked Dearinger to reflect on what the research and publication process was like for him, and what it has meant to share his book.
1. Your book describes the lives of your great-grandparents Susie Tillett and Arthur Jack. She ran brothels in Lexington, Kentucky, and Chattanooga, Tennessee. He, among many occupations, was a saloonist, gambler, and horse-trader. In the preface, you say that before you began your research, neither you nor anyone in your immediate family knew many stories of these ancestors. What was the first discovery you made that alerted you to their unconventional lives?
David Dearinger: I had long known some of the details of my great-grandfather’s life—his origins in Atlanta, his multiple careers of running saloons, managing a vaudeville theater, and running horses on the Grand Circuit. But I knew little of my great-grandmother’s life, other than that she had been a devoted spouse and mother, a superb cook and seamstress (she made many of her own clothes), and the owner of a “boarding house” in Chattanooga.
The earliest hint that there was more to the story and, indeed, that she had led a life that was at least as fascinating as that of her husband, came from a few dozen studio photographs and several large, framed portraits made of her in the 1880s and 1890s, which my grandmother cherished and shared with me. (Some of these images are reproduced in my book.) In them, Susie wears long, beautifully made gowns, stylish hats, feathers, full-length furs and even jewels, clothes and accessories that suggest a history both richer and more complicated than I knew. I pondered the mystery of how my great-grandmother could possibly have afforded such clothes for decades until, starting around 2010, I finally began to crack the case.
David B. Dearinger’s great-grandparents in their youth. At left, Susie Tillett, age eighteen, 1877. Photograph by Louis Granert, Chattanooga, Tennessee, copy of an earlier, now lost image made probably in Lexington, Kentucky. At right, William Arthur Jack, age twenty, about 1881. Photograph by Theophilus H. Ivie, High Art Production Co., Atlanta.
2. The findings in your book are extensively researched and documented. What primary sources proved most helpful? Were there certain discoveries that were particularly rewarding?
David Dearinger: The most revelatory documents were contemporary newspapers, city directories, censuses, and insurance maps. I was especially impressed and surprised, perhaps naïvely so, by the frankness with which some of these documents recorded the precise location of brothels and the identities of their residents—one of whom turned out to be my great-grandmother. Granted, this level of documentary accuracy was pretty much confined to the years between 1890 and 1917; but that happened to be the exact period in which my great-grandparents were at their most professionally active. During those years, censuses often identified houses of ill-fame as such, city directories gave madams their proper honorific (abbreviated as “Mad”), and insurance maps labeled brothels with the unique designation of “FB” (“female boarding house,” a cartographic euphemism for brothel). For my purposes, these sources proved to be gold mines of information.
“…my purpose was to uncover and tell the truth, to back it up with proper documentation, and to keep an open mind[…]my primary emotion as the narrative unfolded was unmitigated excitement, what I can call, without hyperbole, the joy of discovery.”
3. In the endnotes, you state that it was not your purpose to assign blame or to glamorize sex work through your research and writing about your ancestors. What purposes did you have in mind as you worked on this book? And can you describe the emotional journey your research took you on as you learned about your ancestors’ colorful lives?
David Dearinger: From the start, my purpose was to uncover and tell the truth, to back it up with proper documentation, and to keep an open mind. As a professional historian (and an amateur genealogist), my primary emotion as the narrative unfolded was unmitigated excitement, what I can call, without hyperbole, the joy of discovery. The fact that these discoveries were deeply personal only heightened my excitement. I came out on the other end more impressed with my great-grandparents than I had been at the start and filled with admiration for their courage, tenacity, and inventiveness.
4. You are a curator and art historian by profession. How do you think studying family history enriches our understanding of history in general? What can it teach us about ourselves?
David Dearinger: I began working on my family history when I was fifteen years old. Like most people at that age—and despite the efforts of some superb teachers—I was naïve about American history and felt little personal connection to the political events and famous people we learned about in elementary and high school. But once I began to discover the facts of my ancestors’ lives, I was inspired to learn more, for better or worse, about the bigger picture. Suddenly the history of the United States—the (re)settlement of the country by Europeans, the genocide of its Native peoples, the shameful history of slavery, the wars, the social and economic upheavals, and the sometimes-desperate attempt to establish something like a democracy—became real, personal, and much more interesting.
5. How did you decide to self-publish your book instead of publishing it with an academic or trade publisher? When did you realize that you wanted to sell it, making it available to a larger readership than family and friends?
David Dearinger: As Susie herself might have said, I always wanted to sell it! My initial plan had been to publish with an academic press. But I soon realized that by going in that direction, I would lose a certain amount of control over important elements of the book—the number of allowable illustrations and the inclusion of what I considered important appendixes, for example—and that the publication date might be pushed back as much as three years. For such a personal project, I found these otherwise reasonable terms unacceptable. Therefore, I decided to investigate the option that I eventually took. I was inspired to consider Modern Memoirs by my friend and former colleague, Joyce M. Bowden, whose intelligent and beautifully produced family history, Four Connor Generations in South Carolina 1790–1920, was published by the company in 2014. And so here we are.
6. Do you think your great-grandparents would have objected to your telling their story in this book?
David Dearinger: I have asked myself that and similar questions a number of times over the past few years. And of course, there is no way for me to know the answers. I can say that, if 100 years from now, some poor benighted historian investigated the nooks and crannies of my own life and wrote a book about it, I would, if it were possible, cheer them on. To be remembered at all would be something; but to think that some hopefully open-minded, intelligent person could make more sense of my life than I can, would be delightful.
As it happens, I did ask Susie and Arthur for their permission. The last time I was in Kentucky before the book was published, I visited their graves in the beautiful and historic Lexington Cemetery. As I stood there looking down at their tombstones, a hickory nut fell from one of the ancient trees that grow nearby and hit me on the head. Was this a bad sign or a good sign? I decided to take it for the latter. Cut. Print.
David Dearinger holding his book in front of a portrait of his great-grandmother
Want to read more? Purchase A Southern Madam and Her Man at Memory Lane Books & Gifts, the Modern Memoirs online shop.
Liz Sonnenberg is genealogist for Modern Memoirs.
Reflections from Modern Memoirs Client Carell Laurent
Carell Laurent published her book entitled “Pignics” and What Holds Us Together with Modern Memoirs in 2023. This cookbook took nine months from the day she first contacted us to the day books arrived on her doorstep. We asked Laurent to reflect on what the publication process was like for her, and what it has meant to share her book with others.
1. Your cookbook is organized into collections of recipes from the many places you lived with your family as your father’s work with the United Nations from 1960 to 1986 took you to Ghana, Madagascar, New York, Sri Lanka, and Haiti. Each section is introduced with stories and memories from those places. How did you come to choose this format—part memoir, part how-to—for your book?
Carell Laurent: Entertaining was an important part of my family’s time overseas. My parents were naturally very hospitable, and they both enjoyed opening our home(s) to friends and neighbors, believing this to be a positive way to share one’s culture with others.
Over the years, my brothers and I often shared stories of our lives overseas, and although most of our children had the pleasure of knowing their grandparents, I wanted to document some of those stories so that they will be preserved in the future. I recognized that often the stories we would tell about a place included food and get-togethers. The book’s sections on cocktails, dinners, teas, etc., just seemed to make sense in my mind as I recalled the foods we enjoyed in the different places we lived. We certainly had cocktail parties in Tananarive, Madagascar, but what I remember joyously from those days are the “musical soiree” dinners. What I remember from Accra, Ghana is running around with my brothers between the kitchen and the garden, tasting from the cocktail trays. So, it made sense in my mind to divide chapters accordingly.
2. Explain the title of your book. In your life, how does food connect you, not only with your family, but with people of other cultures?
No matter where we would end up as adults, we were bound together by those memories from Madagascar or Ghana.
Carell Laurent: Regarding the first word of the title, my children and my brothers’ children started calling the barbecues at my parents’ farm “pignics” instead of “picnics” because often pork was grilled or barbecued or roasted at these events, and we would eat outdoors picnic style.
As I mentioned above, I come from a home that really valued and appreciated different cultures. There were aspects of growing up in different countries that may have appeared to be difficult to some, but although we may have missed out on some things, we were very close as a family, and that closeness sustained us. My brothers and I knew that we would always be each other’s best friends. Regardless of where we were and when we moved from one country to another, even if we had to say goodbye to our friends, we moved together with our family members. No matter where we would end up as adults, we were bound together by those memories from Madagascar or Ghana.
The food connection is also important as the chapters indicate how they are connected by memories of a place we lived; but the food we ate there and the people we knew there came from a variety of places. You will not find only recipes from Ghana in the Ghana chapter, for example, or recipes from Sri Lanka in the Sri Lanka chapter, because that is not how we lived.
3. Your book opens with five adinkra, which are symbols used by the Akan people of Ghana. Why was it important to you to include the ones you selected? What do they mean to you?
“FIHANKRA” adinkra symbol, meaning house or compound
Carell Laurent: These particular symbols represent what were the phases of our lives (through my eyes) when we were in each country. For example, the first symbol FIHANKRA, represents a house or a compound. I remember my life in Ghana being very secure and protected.
Each symbol I selected fits with my understanding and approach to life at the time of the described chapter.
4. Whom did you intend your readers to be, and what feedback have you received so far?
Carell Laurent: This book was written for my family, and they are loving it. Some members are too young to be cooking yet, but they love the stories. Some of the older members are expressing joy that they can cook something they remember having in the past but didn’t know how to make. A few non-family members have expressed surprise at something, not knowing about some connection between my parents, for example. Everyone wishes there were more pictures in it though. Perhaps that wish will serve as inspiration for a new project sometime down the road.
For the cover, the author simply sent a favorite photograph and said she likes the color olive green. Book Designer Nicole Miller worked her magic from there. The author also said she wanted a hardcover book that would lie flat when opened. The solution was a covered-spiral binding that makes it easy for readers to follow the recipes straight from the pages.
Liz Sonnenberg is genealogist for Modern Memoirs, Inc.
Brushstrokes in the Portrait of You: 5 Ways to Approach Your Memoir
Detail of Vincent van Gogh, Self-Portrait 1889, oil on canvas
Writing a memoir, like creating any work of art, requires thousands of choices along the way. They may not feel like monumental choices—using a nickname instead of a formal name, say, or whether to include that little story from college—but each one is, in fact, a brushstroke in the portrait of you. It follows that there is no one true memoir of your life, but millions of possible versions dependent on your decisions. Ideally, this is a liberating realization for a memoir writer, but it can also induce some anxiety. Out of an entire life’s worth of stories, how do you begin to decide what to include and what to omit? What to emphasize and what to downplay? How to balance storytelling with documentation? Questions such as these are often what motivate writers to turn to our staff for guidance and support.
“No matter what you write, a compelling narrative will rise out of your reflections.”
First, there’s no need to worry, as structural or developmental editing is one of the earliest and most critical parts of the editorial process. When Modern Memoirs’ editors review your manuscript, they will point out places where your readers might like more details, and help you connect themes across the entire work. That’s one of the magic tricks of memoirs: no matter what you write, a compelling narrative will rise out of your reflections. Our editors will help you ensure that your memoir portrays your life’s story clearly and creatively.
Second, while many writers prefer a chronological structure, there are ways to write a compelling and thorough memoir that don’t follow a linear sequence from birth to the present day. Instead, you may find interest in one of the alternative approaches listed at the bottom of this article. Freeing yourself from a conventional structure might help you loosen up and discover intriguing repetitions and connections in your life.
I first began thinking about unconventional memoir structure after being introduced to Modern Memoirs client Harold Hirshman’s book sketches from memory, a compilation of essays on disparate memories written across the author’s life. Hirshman recently returned to reprint his book with updated content, and as I reviewed the project I discovered that though his “sketches” are short, they each pack a potent emotional punch. A few favorite chapter titles of mine are, “a psalm to golf and drycleaning,” “I Have Visited Cleveland More Often in My Life than Any Other City on Earth,” “I Did Something I Wanted to Do,” and “What Is Not in The New Yorker.” These titles alone give me a great sense of the author’s witty personality and what his life might be like. I can tell that the writer was following what interested him at the moment—and as a reader, that interests me.
Then I noticed that the last two commercially published memoirs I read, In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado and Passing for Human by Liana Finck, both employ unconventional structures, as well. In the Dream House is a memoir about a yearlong abusive romantic relationship. Instead of walking the reader through the story step-by-step, the author chose to write short, surreal vignettes that each explore the relationship through a different narrative archetype. In this way the situation is examined at hundreds of different angles, exploring its every facet: the love, the joy, the anger, the betrayal, the horror, and more. Its chapters are titled along the lines of “Dream House as Bildungsroman” (a coming-of-age story archetype); “Dream House as Creature Feature” (a horror movie archetype), or “Dream House as a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure.” The collective impact of these diverse angles gave me so much pleasure in reading this book, despite its, at times, harrowing content. Not only is it a bold and honest piece of writing, it is profoundly creative. I closed Machado’s memoir with appreciation for how its very structure highlights the fact that within each of our stories are a hundred different versions, all of which, on some level, are true.
Passing for Human by The New Yorker cartoonist Liana Finck also plays with the audience’s expectations. Each chapter is an exploration of a different potential root of the author’s personality (her mother, her father, and her childhood are all culprits). She weaves together the romantic problems she encounters in the present with these childhood stories in order to draw connections. In addition, Finck frequently portrays her personal narrative with symbolism from well-known stories that hold importance for her, like the book of Genesis in the Bible, which also serves to highlight her perspective and background as a Jewish author.
Drawing on these examples, here are five ideas for structuring a memoir in an unconventional way. Following one of these unique paths during your writing process may expose connections and themes in your story that you hadn’t expected to find.
1. Writing as Play (or a stream-of-consciousness start)
Write everything that comes into your mind, without restricting yourself, for 30 minutes or an hour. See what emerges and how it shows your unique personality and writing approach. If you need a prompt, choose one of these:
“It’s hard to know where to begin to tell my story, and so I will begin in the middle. When I was [insert half the age you are now] I…”
“I was born in [year], a time when this country was…”
“When I was a child I loved to…”
2. Follow a Feeling
Sometimes, I try to think back on times I’ve experienced a particularly strong emotion (disappointment, anxiety, or gratitude, for instance). It’s amazing how many more personal stories I can remember by tracing that emotion. This also gives you the chance to easily give your memoir a theme. If you need a prompt, just start with: “I was [disappointed/worried/thankful] when…”
3. Zero In
Choose a few strong stories that help exemplify what you want to say about something or someone important in your past, such as the way you grew up sharing meals with your family, or how your mother was a perfectionist. Start with, “There is no way for me to write this memoir without first sharing that I…”
4. Mythify your Life
Like Machado and Finck, you can compare your story to famous stories, myths, and archetypes, which may reveal some interesting similarities and differences. Start with something like, “Have you heard the story of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ [or another such story]? Here’s my account of how I strayed off the path and lived to tell the tale…”
5. Listen to the Music
If a topic gives you joy and passion but is not conventionally included in a memoir as a focus for your career—for instance, your creative hobby, or favorite genre of music—include it anyway. Writing about your passions is a fantastic way to show your individuality, and it will likely lead you to remember and want to write down more life stories. For example, if you love a particular singer, start there. “I have always loved listening to [name the artist] because…”
Once you get started on one of these five paths to writing your memoir, you may find it hard to stop writing, and that’s a good thing. Just let the words keep flowing, and then reach out to Modern Memoirs if you’d like help bringing them to print.
Emma Solis is publishing associate for Modern Memoirs, Inc.
Facing the Sun: Learning the Language of My Childhood
A blog post by
Publishing Intern Olivia Go
My grandmother holds me while I am dressed in hanbok for Korean New Year, 2003
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning, I walk downstairs to the basement of Smith College’s Wright Hall, sit in the same exact seat, and prepare myself to be humiliated.
I am learning Korean for the first time.
Our very first lesson was the alphabet, and even that basic introduction to the language left me reeling.
ᅡ sounds like ah
ᅮ sounds like ooo
ᅥ sounds like oh, but so does ᅩ
ᅢ sounds like eh but so doesᅦ
ᄐ sounds like t but so does ᄄ
For the life of me, I just can’t understand why multiple characters sound exactly the same. Wouldn’t one character suffice?
I expected a learning curve, but at week eight, I could barely read, and I misspelled things all the time. I start to wonder, will I ever be literate in this language that I’ve heard my whole life?
* * *
My mom and grandmother were born in Korea, and as a child, I always heard them speak to each other in Korean. Over kimchi, jigae, and rice they would gossip about my brothers and me, about my dad, about my grandmother’s church friend who wore atrocious shoes. My mother and grandmother had a lot of disagreements, but this language bonded them to each other like a secret. Although I could make sense of only bits and pieces of their conversations, it was beautiful just to listen to them speak the language of our ancestry. To my ears, Korean was the language of two grown women. I saw my own future in their exchanges.
(Left to right) My mom, me, and my grandmother playing with gold jewelry, 2003
I grew up in Santa Clarita, California, the land of Six Flags, people who “want to speak to the manager,” and a truly absurd number of chain restaurants. I spent years of my schooling as the only Asian person in my classes, enduring torment from my classmates. Kids pulled back their eyes and talked at me using vaguely Asian-sounding fake words. I didn’t know how to respond. Was that what I looked like to them? When I opened my mouth to speak, was that how they thought I sounded?
My identity became tarnished by others’ ignorance. Nobody seemed to understand or see the beauty of my culture. Eventually, I lost sight of it myself. By the time I entered high school, I began to reject everything Korean. I refused to eat Korean food. I closed my ears to the language. I did not want to be associated with Korean people. I grew resentful of my mother and grandmother for representing a nation I wanted nothing to do with. They were constant reminders of my least favorite thing about myself.
* * *
Finally able to see the beauty in its brilliance, I’m reaching for it again, facing back toward light, and hoping it will rise to meet me.
For years, I turned my back on my Korean heritage. It felt like a beating, bright light I couldn’t bear to look at. That whole time, I couldn’t see it was the sun—essential to my very being. Finally able to see the beauty in its brilliance, I’m reaching for it again, facing back toward light, and hoping it will rise to meet me.
Part of me thought learning Korean would come as fulfillment of some sort of divine right, the words of my mother tongue unfurling out of me like a confession, phrases and sentences eager and ready to be spoken. But there is no divinity in this learning process. There is only honest, hard work—and anguish. I tell myself that’s how I know it’s important.
When I was small, my mom, grandmother and I would watch Korean dramas together. I couldn’t understand a word the actors were saying. All I knew was that there was always a man and a woman and they were in love. Spitting at the television, we would argue about which characters were handsome and which were not. Conversation died down when it was time for lunch. They would both shovel food onto my plate, giving me the best of everything, often hot purple rice, fried fish cake, salty roasted seaweed, and some sort of fruit—oranges, or Fuji apples, or persimmons. With eyes glued to the screen, my grandma would peel the fruit in one spiraling ribbon, a wizard with a paring knife. We would shamelessly smack our lips together as we ate, not a word between us except for the occasional grunt of approval.
마시서요. Delicious.
As my grandmother got older, she forgot more and more of her English. By the end of her life, we could no longer communicate with words. I wish I had started learning Korean sooner. I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time rejecting an unavoidable, precious part of myself. My grandmother was Korea to me. I miss her. I miss the place she and my mother created for me, an ocean away from where they were born. I am trying to find the words to go back.
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning I find myself wondering if my grandmother can hear me somehow as I sit, all the way down in the basement of Wright Hall, clumsily stumbling over the words,
미안해. Sorry.
사랑해요. I love you.
그렇지만 어려워요. But it’s hard.
저는시도해요. I am trying.
Olivia Go is the fall 2023 publishing intern for Modern Memoirs, Inc.
Endsheets: A Distinguished look for your book
Endsheets, also known as endpapers, are the first thing you see when you open a hardcover book. They are adhered to the hardcover board itself, and they help keep the cover and interior pages together. Typically they are a bit heavier or thicker than the rest of the text stock (paper). Nowadays, they are often the same color as the text stock (white, or natural), but this is largely out of convenience, not necessity. In fact, well-chosen endsheets can contribute as much to the unique design and feel of your book as its cover does.
If you want a distinctive touch to your book, we suggest endsheets that will complement or contrast the color of the outside cover. One popular modern option is a colorful repeating pattern, which harkens back to some of the earliest decorative endsheets, called marbled endsheets. The practice of using marbled endsheets possibly began in Iran in the 16th century. Paper would be dipped in baths of swirling paint mixed with ox gall (sourced from the bovine liver) to create dreamy, abstract patterns. European bookbinders observed and then adopted the practice. Look in any rare book library and you will likely find some marbled endsheets, proving that specialty endsheets will last, adding a classic and beautifying touch to your own book.
A solid color endsheet is also an option, in all manner of colors, even gold and silver. One of our clients who lived in France chose a red cover and blue endsheets—along with the white text stock, the combination hints at the French flag.
Another client chose to have a dark blue leather cover with Italian endsheets in all four volumes he wrote. These papers were special ordered from Florence.
For an even more personal touch, endsheets can come printed with text or images related to the content of the book. A genealogy book could highlight a family tree, for example, and a biography or memoir could include a map, company logo, or other image on the endsheets.
Endsheets can cost a bit more, but when you open the book they really stand out. They frame the pages as you read, a lovely enhancement. And they appear at the front and at the back, providing beautiful “bookends” for your masterpiece.
If you're interested in learning more about endsheets and how to share this book-design element with young readers in your life, company president Megan St. Marie has written extensively about endsheets in two of her books. Reading Picture Books with Children: How to Shake Up Storytime and Get Kids Talking About What They See and Read It Again: 70 Whole Book Approach Plans to Help You Shake Up Storytime are available for sale in the Modern Memoirs shop, Memory Lane Books & Gifts.