Just finished reading Bukowski’s Ham on Rye which I liked a lot. Plotless, unsentimental. Autobiographical, although apparently he exaggerated to make himself seem tougher, more of a loner, than he was. Makes sense. When I write my memoirs I am going to make myself much less of a geek.
I like fictional autobiography – even the librarian in me doesn’t like dividing the books up into fiction and non-fiction. Fiction is a disease – facts infected by language.
Can anyone recommend any women writers who have that brutal, straigh-forward way of lying about lives – real or imagined? I’ve read Laura Hird and Helen Walsh but I need more.