# Autobiography (600 words)(Excerpt)



## rhiannon (Feb 4, 2015)

Ok everyone, I recently wrote a very condensed version of my life story (autobiography) and I have been told by so many people throughout my adult years that I should consider writing a book about my life. So what I have come up with is definitely not enough for a book, but I was hoping to get some neutral opinions as to the quality or style of my writing. So, here's a segment of it, and I will continue to post portions because I don't want to overwhelm you with such a long post that nobody will bother reading. Feedback is appreciated.



I was born to my unmarried parents on October 4, 1982 in El Dorado Hills, California. I am the oldest of 3 and definitely suffer from the “Hero Child” syndrome. 
Growing up, my Dad never had a real job. We were pretty much raised on welfare and the help of my Mother’s mom. My mother was an RN student for most of my childhood.

My first sibling Hillary was born in August 1987 in El Dorado Hills at the same hospital I was born. In 1989, my family moved to Tucson, Arizona for a very short while so my mother could attend Pedigree Dog Grooming School and my father could attend Western Truck Driving School. My mother completed her training, but my father was kicked out of school for shooting a rubber band at a fellow female students butt during training one day. 

My brother was born in Arizona in 1989. I can remember being very poor and my Dad being addicted to crack cocaine back then. My youngest sibling Myles was also born in Tucson and he was the baby of the family, the only boy.
 
In 1991 we moved to Sacramento, California in the Foothill Farms area. I later learned that my Dad was dealing and using crack cocaine still. I remember seeing him facing off in the alley one day holding a steel pipe against a guy who had a 3 foot long chain as a weapon. This image remains vivid in my memory. Things like this were routine in my household. 

My brother was just a little toddler at that time, and he had gotten hurt one day while we were playing outside and my Dad hit me just for watching. We kids were pretty much raised on injustices like this one. 

I was a straight A student as a kid, typically on Honor Roll, and winning awards for perfect attendance and competing in spelling bees. In fifth grade, I wrote an essay that placed second in the state of California. I won seventy five dollars and was featured on the local news channel. My parents asked me to“borrow” my winnings and never did pay me back for it.
 
About this time my Uncle on my Dad's side was renting a room at our house with his girlfriend. I woke up one night to him drunk in his underwear fondling me and kissing my legs and it terrorized me. He Is now on Megan’s Law for violating other children in the Los Angeles area. Back then I carried that secret with me for a long time before I was ever comfortable opening up about it because I felt so ashamed and humiliated. 

When it was time for me to attend junior high school, my mother proposed that I go live with my grandpa inPlacerville on his cattle ranch for a healthy alternative to the gang initiations and teen pregnancies that began manifesting the lives of the youth around me. 

I learned to play the flute, the piano, paint ceramics and pottery, and be a ranch hand during my seventh grade stay with my grandpa (my mother’s dad) but I really missed my family. This was the most normal piece of life I had ever lived. I earned $3 a week as an allowance while living with my 'Pop pop' as we called him. 

             In eighth grade I returned to live with my family in Sacramento. I attended a charter school which was an addendumto an elementary school comprised of two seventh and two eighth grade classes for parents who sought somewhat better environments for their children/teenagers than the local junior high school had to offer. This marked the last year of my over achievement and excellence in school performance. 

Ninth grade was a pivotal point in my life. My mother finally graduated her nursing program at American River College in 1998. She took on two jobs on graveyard shifts at Mercy San Juan and UC Davis making nearly fifty dollars an hour at each. Finally, we were off of welfare and no more free lunches. I hated getting free lunches so much as I got older that I stopped eating lunch altogether.


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## Plasticweld (Feb 5, 2015)

You need to start out with some kind of hook.  You need to take one of the most interesting aspects of your life to start with, then fill in the details.  You used the phrase "Hero Child" which I have never heard of before. 

I would take a exciting moment in your life, one which separates you from everyone else, tell the story then work backwards with the circumstances....  Hope this helps...Bob


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## rhiannon (Feb 5, 2015)

Thank you Bob. I think that sounds good. I will give that a shot.


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## MamaStrong (Feb 5, 2015)

I agree with Bob. I know facing challenges such as your dad's addiction isn't very exciting, but you need some happiness in the story. Unless your life had no happy moments. The first 6-7 lines read as bored (meaning the writer sounded bored writing it). Maybe it's how I read it? Hope that helps. I love reading other people's stories. Proof everyone struggles, and we all choose different ways to cope or overcome them.


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## Kevin (Feb 5, 2015)

There's some minor punctuation issues. 
style: I think we need more details. Dad was a crack user, drug dealer. Those may seem cliché or at least not extraordinary to you, but they are. That's why people are telling you to write it. The uncle story, flush it out. Did he keep living there?  How'd you get him to stop right then? These are like, crazy... go with it. How did you handle it? What did your mom think about your dad? I'm sure whichever sibling the uncle was related to would have killed him, or made excuses and denied it.   What did you think? Did you want to stab him or run away to the grandparents? Anyway, it's your story, don't make it clinical, show us stuff, get us there, make us know what it was like... JMTs , k


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## Firemajic (Feb 5, 2015)

You have a story to tell, and I think you can do it..but for me, you are going to need to go much deeper. You are tiptoeing around all the pain and emotion that you have experienced. You have had some heart breaking events in your life that shaped you--changed you irrevocably. You are gong to have to be willing to be vulnerable and let others feel and connect with your story on a personal level. You do have a story to tell--But let the power of your voice be heard...Good luck with this, it is a good read but give yourself permission to make it great..Peace always...Julia


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