A conversation with the author of Such A Pretty Picture:
Andrea Leeb was told by multiple agents that her book needed more reflection, more self-examination, because, they all explained, that’s what memoir is.
“I was really torn because I was just like, this is not what I want to write,” Andrea said of her book, Such A Pretty Picture. “...I took out—even up to the last minute—whole chunks because I had started getting influenced by that.”
Andrea was 4-years-old the first time her father sexually abused her. It went on for years. In the following passage she’s at home one night and tiptoes down the stairs to overhear a conversation between her parents.
"Mrs. Powers told me that Andrea cries every day," my mother said. She must have assumed Sarai and I were both sound asleep, because she didn't even bother whispering. I heard every word.
"Andrea's hypersensitive," my father said.
"Why would you say that?"
"Andrea has problems," he said. "We give her everything, but she's never happy." A beat later. "Marlene, could you make me another drink?"
"You've had two already." But my mother must have gotten up to make him one, because a minute or so later I heard the sound of the refrigerator door open and the clink of ice cubes against glass.
"Look, I know this is upsetting," my father said, "but we may have to face it. Andrea might be emotionally disturbed."
"Do you think we should get her help?" my mother asked. "Send her to a child psychiatrist?"
"No," my father said loudly. "I mean, not yet."
"Why would we wait?"
"Right now, she's a crazy little girl. Hysterical. If we make too big a deal, you never know what she'll say to get attention." My father paused. "Besides, kids usually outgrow these things."
This is the style of memoir I’m drawn to. One that is cinematic without reflection from the writer, because it’s these scenes that evoke a visceral reaction from the reader.
Andrea worked with a writing teacher, Pam Houston, who told her, “Your readers are smart. You don’t have to explain everything to them. [They] aren’t going to need a play-by-play of what you should be feeling and you also don’t want to—and this really stayed with me as I revised—you don’t want to tell them what they should be feeling. They should get to feel what they want from your book.”
It’s not easy to read a book about child sexual abuse, but every night I was eager to read another chapter. It was riveting, suspenseful, and reminded me of the way I felt reading The Glass Castle.
“I take so much joy out of when people tell me the writing is good because that was so important to me, because I am a reader, and I love, love, love good writing,” Andrea said. “I love that moment where you read a book and you can’t put it down and you’re so happy. And then you’re kind of sad, even if the book was sad, that you don’t get to be in that book anymore.”
Recommended reading from Andrea:
Wild Game by Adrienne Broder
Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose
Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison
The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
Educated by Tara Westover