I write fiction. Sometimes snippets from my real life slip into that fiction. Snippets = hair color, annoying mannerisms, tics, weird phrases, funny stories, emotions, maybe a name or two. I have never written an entirely real person (or even a caricature) into any of my (publishable) stories. No matter what my father might think. Why? Because even though I have dreams of one day writing about my family, I do not think they would appreciate everything I have to say.
Memories are fickle beasts. I remember my childhood one way. My sister remembers it another. My father, still another. My grandparents...well, they weren't around very often, so what they remember is probably based on pictures and stories told from my parents' point of view.
The reason I mention all this is because memoirs are essentially soft autobiographies wherein the writer tells his/her life story (or at least bits and pieces of it...hopefully the interesting bits and pieces). So chances are, the writer's family will be coming along for the ride whether they want to or not. (Hopefully, they want to.)
And while my family is interesting (really, whose isn't?), I just can't write about them...
...at least not until they've passed on from this life to a better, happier place where they can't shake their fists and me and say, "You evil, evil child! How dare you defame us in this manner!?" Not that I'd be defaming them. Really. Truly. I would write mostly nice things. But it's the other things...the not-mostly that I'm worried about.
So you tell me: Would you consider/Do you write about your family? If yes (and you're feeling brave), who? If no, why not?