trauma

A Conversation with Ken Guidroz

This month features author Ken Guidroz whose debut memoir Letters to My Son in Prison just hit the shelves. Ken was a member of the Unlocking Your Story workshop back in 2019 where he discovered the importance of having a story question to anchor his narrative. Author and editor Lisa Dale Norton wrote an exceptional blog post that defines what a story question is, explaining that:

"Memoir is like any other story; it is the exploration of something unknown—a search through memories and thoughtfulness to find understanding. That unknown answer, and the search for that answer is what propels your story forward."

Ultimately, your story question lies at the heart of why you're writing your memoir NOW; it is captures what it is you are seeking to understand through the writing.

"Ask yourself this," Norton writes. "What is it I need to know?"


Ken Guidroz is a debut memoirist with a day-job: he designs pension plans for companies. At night he writes.

In his new book, Letters to My Son in Prison: How a Father and Son Found Forgiveness for an Unforgiveable Crime, Guidroz delves into his life, parenting, marriage, and his struggles with his faith.

It's a book that's both heart-breaking and hopeful. His son has recovered and is now out of prison, married, and has a new son of his own. Nevertheless, there was an accident, a man died, and a widow was made. Now these two truths, however inconsolable, must exist, side by side, with grace, in one book. 

To learn more, visit: kenguidroz.com

 

KARIN GUTMAN:  What is your memoir, Letters to My Son in Prison, about?
 
KEN GUIDROZ:  My book is part parenting story, part marriage story, and part spiritual recovery story. 
 
I returned to the ministry as a pastor (after having served for ten years out of college) when my three sons were knocking on the door of adolescence. This went well for a while but then one by one, over the course of five years, they each fell into substance abuse. One ended his run with heroin when he killed a cyclist by rear-ending him on a country road in our town. He then served a prison term for vehicular manslaughter. How could this happen to my family after all we did to try and parent correctly? I wrote this book to answer that question.
 
Through it all, my wife and I managed to stay together, and I found God again outside the walls of religion. 
 
KARIN GUTMAN:  How far along were you with the book when you joined the Unlocking Your Story workshop?

KEN GUIDROZ:  I joined UYS in the fall of 2019 and had written a very rough first draft. I knew my idea, Letters to My Son, was a good one. It had great themes and was an incredible tale, but I didn’t know how to make it into a compelling story. It was only a series of scenes and letters at the time, and I needed to learn the craft of writing and the art of story. That is why I joined your group. 
 
KARIN GUTMAN:  How did the workshop help the book along?
 
KEN GUIDROZ:  In one class, I read a piece about an argument that my wife and I had about parenting. It ended with, “For years I thought I was a great dad, I thought I had the ‘dad gene’. I did pretty well when they were boys. But when they became teens—I sucked. I was no good at handling rebellion. I was no good at handling raging hormones. The longer I was a dad, the less I felt like I had the dad gene and the more I became a dad meme.” 
 
You responded with something like, “You’ve painted a good picture of what happened to your family. But how did this happen? Why did not just one, but all three of your sons go off the rails?”
 
I vividly remember telling you, "I don’t know. It all kinda spun out of control and everything went to hell.” 
 
I know that was the worst answer a memoirist could possibly give. I had ignored one of the most foundational questions of the book: What did you learn about parenting? I had a pit in my stomach. I knew I needed to answer that.
 
So, I started writing scenes about my boys’ teen years and their early to mid-twenties… what they did and how my wife, Joyce, and I reacted. Then I started to share these scenes with my sons and their wives while sitting in the jacuzzi on Sunday afternoons after playing pickleball. They would add details, telling me how they felt and what they were thinking. I shared about the pressure I felt as the pastor. They told me about the pressure they felt as the pastor’s sons. Back and forth we went, my wife and I rehashing the discussions, and the picture became clearer and clearer.
 
What did I think the book would be without that answer? I don’t know. A story of what happened perhaps, but it never would have become a book.
 
KARIN GUTMAN:  So, what is the answer to that question? What did you learn about parenting?

KEN GUIDROZ:  Go with your gut. Lean into your own individual instinct. Don’t let outside pressures sway you in how you handle your kid. Not an in-law, not your own parents, not a pastor, and certainly not what you think is a best practice. I’m not even sure if there are any best practices. There are only the practices that make sense to you and practices that will work with your unique kid and practices that you can live with and sleep well with at night.
 
Yes, educate your gut. Read books, listen to podcasts, get advice from wise people. But when all the inputs are internalized, do what you believe you should with your own unique kid.
 
I didn’t listen to my gut. I let the senior pastor sway me. I let other parents in the church influence me to parent outside of my comfort zone. And my boys sensed it. They smelled a rat. They rebelled when they saw me change and become the type of dad they did not recognize.
 
For us, that resulted in ten years of family trauma.
 
You also have to listen to your collective gut… by that I mean the gut of the other parent, whether that be an ex or a spouse. As my family imploded, I started to lean more into my wife’s gut than mine. I just didn’t trust myself anymore.
 
This process changed the book. It gave it a narrative thread; it brought in tension. It illustrated the influence of the church and the pressure of leadership on me and my marriage and my sons. It broadened the book from just a father and son story, to include all of my life… my marriage, my parenting and my spiritual life.
 
So, Karin, thank you for asking that question.
 
KARIN GUTMAN:  How did writing a memoir change you and your family? 
 
KEN GUIDROZ:  Writing this book changed my life. Dramatically. I’ve processed much of my grief and see the past more clearly. I feel like I’ve lived life twice… once actually living it, and a second time in writing about it.

My wife and I are together and happy and both deeply involved in sharing this story with others. Last night, as we were leaving a restaurant, a couple stopped us to share the impact the book is having on their marriage and their parenting. We were beaming.
 
I’m super close to all three of my boys and their wives—and writing this book has only deepened that. We all live in LA and play pickleball and jacuzzi together and eat great food on Sundays. Lucas and I are tight as a drum. He has a son now—a surreal experience that tightens my throat as I hold him. He supports the book. While he isn’t able to speak publicly about it yet and is pained that the worst moment of his life is now in the public eye, the bigger part of him is glad that others are being helped.

 

Family time in the jacuzzi.

 

KARIN GUTMAN:  What did you learn about the writing and editing process?
 
KEN GUIDROZ:  I learned that writing is hard. Good writing is learned. Finding your voice takes time and a lot of writing. Discovering the style that feels good to you takes practice. Finding critique partners that you respect takes diligence and careful listening and trial and error. Writing a memoir may take years or decades.
 
Finding the right editor takes kissing a lot of frogs. I kissed a half-dozen before I found mine. I cut things I wish I hadn’t, but most of her input (Nan Wiener) was great. I used Nan for probably 40-50 hours of editing and don’t regret any of it.
 
KARIN GUTMAN:  How have you grown spiritually?
 
KEN GUIDROZ:  Losing my family as I did was not only a parenting crisis, but also a spiritual crisis. I had always believed God would bless us; he would give us a strong family. Especially after all of that church and sacrifice and spiritual upbringing. So, to have it all sitting in a big old pile of failure was stunningly discouraging.
 
I had resigned the ministry. I couldn’t even open a Bible without a flood of bad memories swarming me, and I couldn’t darken the door of a church for years. I was beginning to think that I would turn out to be a spiritual has-been.
 
But then I found a church in Hollywood with an amazing band and a dark auditorium. They dropped the lights to almost black during the singing, and I was able to let myself go and cry and pour out my heart in this cocoon of darkness in such a way that touched a part of my soul that I didn’t know was there. I was able to process my disappointment with God. I needed anonymity (I knew no one) and darkness and music and lyrics to reconnect with God. 
 
I learned that even though my life didn’t look very Christian or exemplary, and even though my heart was numb and my spiritual pulse was undetectable, I was still a son of God.
 
Even now, after everything in my family has come full circle, organized religion is still a little out there for me. I love sharing the spiritual message of this book and being close to other Christian men and reading the Bible and thinking about God and writing about faith. But I haven’t found my place in the organization of it all.

KARIN GUTMAN:  What do you hope people will take away from your story?
 
KEN GUIDROZ:  My story is about one man kicking, scratching, and clawing his way to sanity and back to God. I hope my story will inspire others to do the same, in their own way, with renewed confidence in their gut, with a flicker of hope in their heart, and with a fresh belief that God can be found in the darkness.
 
KARIN GUTMAN:  So, how is the book doing and what is next for you?
 
KEN GUIDROZ:  The response to the book has been incredible—more than we ever expected. People are coming out of the woodwork with their story—with their own trauma or son in prison. I never imagined it, but this book may find a real place in this world.
 
Most of my marketing has been done with 500 people in our network. I’ve done a half-dozen podcasts and really like that forum. I hope to do more.
 
I’m also still writing. I have a weekly newsletter hosted on Substack. I’ve written a couple pieces, “3 Ways I’m Trying NOT to be and Asshole in my 60s” and “How NOT to fight with your Spouse on Vacation.” Next is a monthly segment featuring a question from one of my three sons: “Dear Pops, how do I raise my boy to be a real man?”

Everything can be found at kenguidroz.com.



Purchase the book!

To learn more about Ken Guidroz, visit 
his site.

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A Conversation with Laura Davis

We are already a month into the new year!

I had the great pleasure of speaking with Laura Davis, a memoir teacher and author based in the Santa Cruz, California. She is the author of six nonfiction books, and recently published her debut memoir, The Burning Light of Two Stars, about her tumultuous relationship with her mother. It was fascinating to hear about her learning curve as as writer, putting what she knows and teaches into practice and her growth as a storyteller. We talked about everything from how to create a page turner to how to work with a shoddy memory. She also shared about how she reached the tipping point of finally being ready to write and share this story.


LAURA DAVIS is the author of six non-fiction books that change peoples' lives. The Courage to Heal has paved the way for hundreds of thousands of women and men to heal from the trauma of sexual abuse. Becoming the Parent You Want to Be, a rich resource guide co-authored with parenting expert Janis Keyser, helps parents develop a vision for the families they want to create. And I Thought We'd Never Speak Again teaches the skills of reconciliation and peace building to the world, one relationship at a time.

Her latest book, her first memoir: The Burning Light of Two Stars: A Mother-Daughter Story, tells the story of her dramatic and tumultuous relationship with her mother. It gives a no-holds-barred peek at the real woman behind the teacher, the facilitator, and the author.

KARIN GUTMAN: Given that you coach memoir writers, what was the learning curve in writing your own memoir?

LAURA DAVIS: When it came to writing my memoir, I understood how to get the raw material out, like how to do the deep excavation, the really painful kind of excavation. But then I had hundreds of little pieces that I'd written over the course of years. I knew the theme was this mother-daughter relationship. Some of them were really good—the individual piece might be polished and powerful—but I really had no idea how to make them into a book. I didn't know about storytelling, how to sustain a story over 360 pages. I had to learn what to leave in and what to cut out, which I think is really challenging in memoir.

The other thing I had to learn, that was really hard, was sequencing—like when to reveal things and when to conceal them. Part of that was learning how to create a page turner. That's my favorite feedback I get, people who said, “I picked up your book and I couldn't put it down.” I hear that every single day. I had no idea how to do that.

KARIN: Can you share more about that?

LAURA: Well, one of the final things I did at the very end of the 10 years of development—the very last edit, after I'd actually shopped the book around for a year and couldn't sell it—I shortened the chapters. Not the whole book, but a lot of it is very short chapters, which I think is good because everyone's attention span is so poor, you know, frazzled. Also, I interjected past, present, and future really fast. So, you're in one situation and then you're thrown into another situation. It doesn't work for every reader, but a lot of people really like that. It creates a very fast momentum.

And then, there was a lot of experimenting with placement. The worst moment between me and my mother—the scene where I tell her I've been sexually abused as a child, and she basically freaks out and attacks me—was a really pivotal scene and was the last straw between us when we became deeply estranged. I tried placing that scene in different places. I wanted to reveal it at the end. But then when people read it, they would say, “I don't understand why Laura is so mean to her mother?” Like, why is she being such a bitch?

Then I tried putting it right at the beginning and it was just way too emotionally intense. People would stop reading. So, I had to figure out how to sequence things. There are a lot of twists and turns, things that get revealed. It's like putting a puzzle together. It was a lot of trial and error.

I also had to figure out, What's the question that I want the reader to be asking?

KARIN: Every memoir needs a story question. What did you come up with?

LAURA: I think for me the biggest question was, “Can I open my heart to this person who betrayed me in the past?” We had reconciled to some degree before she moved out here, but I think our reconciliation was successful because there was a 3,000-mile buffer between us. Suddenly, she was in my town and she had dementia and I got triggered all the time by her behavior.

So: "Can I be the daughter she needs me to be or the daughter I want to be? Am I capable of taking care of her until the end of her life? Can I actually follow through and do this thing?"

Also, "Could I open my heart?" I could go through the motions of being a good daughter. I could do all the activities. I could do the research. I could drive her to the doctor's appointments.

The other thing that was super hard is, I have a really shitty memory. I was dissociative as a child because of being a trauma survivor.

KARIN: How did you navigate that?

LAURA: Well, first I discovered that the more I wrote about something, the more I remembered. So by free-writing, I found that if I really went deep and followed a thread, more memories would come back. I often use the prompt, “I don't remember.” I don't remember this… I don't remember that… and then suddenly, but I do remember this.

One my favorite scenes in the book takes place in a car. My mother and I are in a car together. I knew it was a really critical scene because of the things she talked about for the first time on this car ride. But I had no idea when the car ride was, where it was, where we were going. I just didn't remember anything about it except the conversation. But I did remember that it was pouring rain, and that it was a very long drive, and that the windows were closed. She was chain smoking. So, I built the whole scene around smoking in the rain.

KARIN: That was all you needed, right?

LAURA: It was super satisfying and it's a really good scene. So, it was learning how to work with the things that I did know.

I wrote, “I don't know” at the beginning, like, “I don't know where we were going.” I only figured out it had to be around this time because there were no car seats in the back. I didn't have children yet. If it was too far back, we weren't speaking. It had to be this certain kind of like suppositional writing. I did a lot of that.

And then there were certain scenes I would have liked to have written, but there was just no way to get any traction, and I had to find a different scene that would do the same work.

KARIN: It sounds like you were working on the book for a long time. Did you know the ending?

LAURA: I knew what the last scene would be. But I had to tell myself I wasn't going to publish it for nine out of the 10 years. I had too much history with certain people in my family who had already kicked me out of the family for writing The Courage to Heal when I was 31. I had already spent more than 20 years reconciling those relationships. The idea that I was going to lose those people all over again was just so devastating to me. I hadn't published anything in 19 years because this is the story I wanted to write, and I just felt like it was taboo. I finally got to the point of, I can't not write anymore. I was taking care of my mother, and I knew I needed to write it. And then she died, and it was like, Okay, I really need to write it. But maybe this is just a great project.

KARIN: At what point were you ready to put those relationships at risk to share this story?

LAURA: I think it was a few things. One is that I am an author, and that I really wanted to publish again. I didn't want to go for the rest of my life not publishing, and this was the story I had been given. I felt like if I didn't do this story, I wasn't going to have any other stories. We have a few core stories that are ours to tell, and this clearly was mine.

I couldn't have written it before. But if I had tried to write it before, it would have been a really different book. I'm 65 years old. I needed to be this age, this stage of life. A grandmother, a mother, you know, as seasoned as I am as a human being to be able to touch into the depth of the story in the way that I feel I have. I needed a lot of time after my mother's death to process the relationship in a different kind of way. My relationship to her is still changing. She's been dead for seven years. It's still evolving. If I was to write this in 10 years, it would be a different book again. But I needed that kind of time to have that vaster perspective, more like out in the universe looking at the story instead of at these two personalities. It's looking at her whole history, the epigenetics of trauma in our family, and just so many other things.

KARIN: I’ve noticed a lot of mother-daughter themes in my memoir-writing workshops. I'm imagining that your book is striking a chord with many people. You are probably giving a lot of people hope.

LAURA: I think it does. That's what I'm hearing from people. People are saying things like, “I picked up the phone and called my mother for the first time in 18 years,” or “I've had this box of letters from my mother sitting in the garage for the last three decades. I pulled them out and I'm going to write about them.”

KARIN: You can't get better feedback than that. That's amazing.



Buy the book

To learn more about Laura Davis visit her
site.

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A Conversation with Miriam Jacobson

Tomorrow marks the 20th anniversary of the attacks that took place on September 11, 2001. I had the privilege of working closely with writer Miriam Jacobson on a personal essay in which she shares her experience of that fateful day and its aftermath. Miriam's father worked on the 110th floor of the World Trade Center and was killed in the attack. You can read the piece here, published by the Huffington Post.

I asked Miriam about her experience writing the essay, something she says has been percolating for a long time, and what it means to see her words finally in print. Scroll down to read our interview.

It's rewarding for me, too! I become deeply invested in the stories shared in the intimate spaces of the workshops and private sessions, and to witness them fly into the world and into the hearts and minds of those who read them, is thrilling. I feel so grateful to be a part of this process!


Miriam Jacobson is a holistic dietitian and the founder of Every Body Bliss, a functional nutrition practice located in Los Angeles. She supports individuals on their healing journey using a combination of nutritional therapy, mindset coaching, and breathwork. It is her mission to create a supportive environment for healing while helping individuals feel empowered, engaged, and joyful about their health. You can follow Miriam on instagram @everybodybliss.

Her personal essay commemorating the 20th anniversary of 9/11 is featured in the Huffington Post.

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KARIN GUTMAN: The anniversary of 9/11 must be an emotional time for you each year. How is this year, the 20th anniversary, special or different?

MIRIAM JACOBSON: The anniversary is always so loaded, but I think this year it’s even more complex. I think about 9/11 on most days—my family and I still face its devastating impact on a daily basis. But writing this essay feels like it helped me reclaim some of my power. While some of my worst nightmares came true, I have also been able to help others along my journey and that feels really good. So, it’s complicated. But I’m also just really excited and proud (and honestly a little nervous!) to see my writing out in the world!

KARIN: What inspired you to write a personal essay to commemorate this event?

MIRIAM: For the past few years I wanted to write a personal essay like this, but I didn’t know what to share. I have spent so much time hiding my connection to 9/11 and I was scared of the visibility—was this something I really wanted to call attention to? But I couldn’t escape my nagging thoughts telling me to write my story. While setting goals for the writing workshop this past winter, I thought it could be interesting to write a personal essay for the 20th anniversary. I thought it would be a meaningful way to reflect on my growth over the last 20 years. The other students in the workshop were so supportive and encouraging, which boosted my confidence in later submitting it for publication.

KARIN: Can you share about your writing process? What did you learn from it, personally or as a writer?

I learned how much time and effort goes into writing a cohesive piece. I knew the essence of what I wanted to convey, but had no idea what to say or how to say it. I just started putting words down on paper and presented the essay several times to the writing group, changing the structure as I received feedback from them. Twelve drafts later (with your help) I finally had a final essay to submit. I also didn’t fully realize how challenging it is to write a short piece, because I needed to be picky with every single sentence.

Personally, I’ve been learning to be easier on myself. In the past I have been a perfectionist, pushing down my feelings and grinding through my discomfort to get stuff done. But I know this is counterproductive, and I am trying to rewrite old patterns and be kinder with myself. I took a lot of time writing the piece because it was an emotional process. I gave myself a lot of space and grace when I wasn’t up for it, or knew when I needed to lie down to do breathwork, or talk to a friend to integrate what was surfacing.

KARIN: What do you hope that people remember on this day, the 20th anniversary of September 11th?

There is so much hate and division in today’s world. I want to remind people how much more we can accomplish when we are able to come together and channel more love for one another. After the attacks in 2001, strangers in the NYC community were so kind and supportive, which brought me a tremendous amount of comfort back then. Although we all come from different backgrounds, I hope we can remember how much more powerful we are when we can embrace each other’s differences and act through love rather than xenophobia and hate.

KARIN: For you, who have experienced so much loss, can you share how writing might be helping you to heal or transform that loss?

I wasn’t ready to write about any of this for a long time. Now that I’m finally ready, I find writing helps me process my experiences. Living through these traumas and losses felt like an out-of-body experience. Writing is the opposite—an in-body experience that helps me process the events almost like they’re happening in real-time. Sometimes I find myself in front of my laptop with tears streaming down my face as I write. This feedback points to what parts of my story still need love, attention and healing. I also think it’s incredible that I get to assign meaning to what I lived through, which has helped me reclaim parts of my past when I felt like I was out of control or victimized. I think that’s so powerful!

The most surprising thing about writing and healing has been reconnecting with my family. Writing about my parents feels like I’m bringing them back to life, which is a strange and also sweet experience.



Read Miriam's essay.

To learn more about Miriam Jacobson visit
Every Body Bliss.

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Miriam and her father, Steven Jacobson.

Miriam and her father, Steven Jacobson.

Steven Jacobson, chief broadcast engineer for WPIX, perched on the transmitter's 360-foot antenna at the top of the World Trade Center, circa 1981.

Steven Jacobson, chief broadcast engineer for WPIX, perched on the transmitter's 360-foot antenna at the top of the World Trade Center, circa 1981.

Steven Jacobson, on the roof of One World Trade Center.

Steven Jacobson, on the roof of One World Trade Center.

Photos courtesy of Miriam Jacobson.