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Emma Solis

Lessons Learned at Modern Memoirs


Publishing Associate Emma Solis during her last week at Modern Memoirs in September 2024

A Farewell Blog Post by Publishing Associate Emma Solis

When I began working at Modern Memoirs, Inc. as Publishing Associate in May 2023, I had just graduated from Smith College, and my internship with the business the previous summer was my only real work experience. I am so happy that company president Megan St. Marie took a chance on hiring me because I can’t think of a better foundation for launching into my career and life as an adult. One year and four months later, I am unfortunately leaving my position to follow my partner and explore opportunities in New York City. My departure does not negate how grateful I am for the opportunities I had here, nor how much I enjoyed working within such a caring, supportive, and knowledgeable team. In the interest of preserving the valuable lessons I’ve learned, I have decided to enumerate them here. To college students and young adults looking to learn about or join the publishing industry, I hope this short list may provide a good starting point to see what lessons you may take away from an internship or first job with a small publisher like Modern Memoirs, Inc.

1. The devil really is in the details.

A book is a collection of countless details masquerading as a seamless unit, each detail so small and easy to overlook on its own. During my tenure as Publishing Associate, I have witnessed the mix of panic and relief that comes with catching a tiny mistake in the late-stage review process, or, more unfortunately, upon receiving proofs of the printed book. During one project, a client’s last-minute addition of a few extra sentences at the end of the chapter had added an extra page that was now missing a page number. We were able to catch the error and resolve it before printing the bulk run of books. This (thankfully unusual) experience taught me that you really cannot double-check enough times, even after receiving the book, and even if it looks perfect on the outside.

On the flip side, it was often the small details that took a book project from great to superb. These decisions often involved one staff member who had a particular insight into our client and knew how to include a feature that would delight them in the bookmaking process. Including colored endsheets, using a display font that hearkened to the client’s native language, or compiling a list of folksy sayings a client had used in his manuscript—these special touches were a product of the Modern Memoirs staff’s desire to make every book perfect for its particular client. It was deeply satisfying to hear a client’s rave response to details that arose from so much thought and care.

2.     Together Everyone Achieves More.

Modern Memoirs’ team truly embodies that acronym you sometimes see on motivational posters: “T.E.A.M: Together Everyone Achieves More.” President Megan St. Marie led our weekly team meetings with humor and warmth, encouraging every member to share their recent progress and struggles, and fostering a supportive, close-knit atmosphere.

Personally, I learned a great deal from every member of our small team. I often worked closely with Director of Publishing Ali de Groot and observed her extraordinary ability to connect deeply with our authors. Because she has written and published a memoir herself, she can offer boundless empathy, patience, and wisdom to our clients; because she is passionate about this work, she imbues it with fun and joy, especially when a client returns to express how much they loved their books!

My design skills have improved tenfold from working with Book Designer Nicole Miller, who brings endless innovation and energy to the Modern Memoirs team. She helped coach me through tricky InDesign features, gave me advice on analytics and marketing, and inspired me to develop a custom Online Author Page product by learning about CSS.

I felt I could always go to Genealogist Liz Sonnenberg for support due to her kind disposition and penchant for offering help. At team meetings, I was always fascinated by her explanations of what she had found in her genealogy research. It was a pleasure to watch her and President Megan St. Marie swap literature recommendations, and to hear about Megan’s latest research and writing projects. In general, the Modern Memoirs team is a deeply creative and passionate bunch, and the energy only grows when everyone is in a room all together.

Creative fields like writing can involve lots of time spent alone, and paths like freelance work don’t offer much outside support. Publishing, however, is a field that relies on constant communication and collaboration—just one reason I was interested in pursuing it! I was surprised and glad to find that much of my role over this year involved being a part of Modern Memoirs’ close-knit team, which appreciates and values the unique strengths of each member.

“I would sometimes come across a line of writing by a client that struck me—maybe the line would be about a recent loss, or connecting with a parent, or just being doubtful about the future—and I’d feel seen and comforted, knowing that someone else at some time had felt the same way.”

3. Everyone deserves to have their story told.

Before beginning my work at Modern Memoirs, I already believed in the value of being able to share one’s story. Writing is a means of connecting with others and broadening our horizons. However, I didn’t expect just how much I would be touched by the stories that came through Modern Memoirs. I found that the outlines of many of the narratives were similar—childhood, school, career, marriage, family—but the details the writer chose to include, and their perspectives, were all unique. I often thought about the writer’s family members and friends, who would treasure the intimate memories, photographs, and records within each book.

Loss is not something we like to dwell on, but it is another common factor of every person’s life story, like childhood and a career. Just a few months after I started at Modern Memoirs, I learned that my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Not having any other family history of cancer, I was shocked and gutted. Fortunately, my dad is still battling his cancer today, and is even able to travel from Texas to visit me. In the months that followed his diagnosis, though, nobody was sure what was to come. Being able to work from home at that time, which allowed me to travel and spend a month with my family, was critical to staying optimistic about the present and future. I felt so thankful to be at a company where I was encouraged to be with my family, and where Megan and Sean St. Marie had created a culture of sharing and support.

I was grateful for my role with Modern Memoirs at that time for one other reason: my work was unexpectedly helpful in dealing with the new changes in my life. In the course of my work, I would sometimes come across a line of writing by a client that struck me—maybe the line would be about a recent loss, or connecting with a parent, or just being doubtful about the future—and I’d feel seen and comforted, knowing that someone else at some time had felt the same way.

In that vein, people sometimes wonder why they should publish a memoir as an “average” person with experiences like those of many others. But I see the similarity of our experiences as a benefit, not a drawback. That similarity is what allows us to connect through something as small as a description of a feeling, or a retelling of an event. It is precisely what makes these memoirs so valuable, and what allows a family to feel close to an ancestor simply by reading about their life, never having met them in person.

4.     Good work feeds the soul.

With that said, my favorite part of working at Modern Memoirs, by far, is the sense of purpose I had in the knowledge that I helped bring someone’s story into the world. The days that we received advance books from the printer were like a birthday party, with the whole team gathering in the conference room to admire our collective work. I regard the books that I had more of a hand in with particular fondness, and I feel warm when thinking of them being enjoyed by the author’s family. The lovely notes and gifts we often received after completing a project bolstered the sentiment that our work is truly important and valued.

As I say goodbye to Modern Memoirs, I am confident that the company will continue to grow and thrive for years to come. I look forward to keeping in touch to see how the close-knit team I value so much will mentor new interns and publishing associates, forge intimate connections with authors, and bring new stories into the world as distinctive, beautiful books.


Five Questions: Reflections from Modern Memoirs Authors


As a special project to celebrate Modern Memoirs’ 30th anniversary, our staff decided to compile client interviews from our monthly “Reflections” blog series into a Digital Book entitled Five Questions: Reflections from Modern Memoirs Authors. Genealogist Liz Sonnenberg has been writing the “Reflections” series for the past three years. She brings a deep familiarity with each profiled author’s work to every one of her interviews, along with a genuine curiosity about the inspirations, struggles, and rewards they encountered along the self-publishing journey. The goal of each interview is to gain a deeper understanding of our authors as we allow them to process the impressive undertaking they have accomplished. For their part, our interviewees consistently honor us with honest, eloquent, and profoundly insightful reflections on their book projects.

“The goal of each interview is to gain a deeper understanding of our authors and allow them to process the impressive undertaking they have accomplished.”

As with each “Reflections” blog in the series, the creation of the Digital Book was a team effort that drew on the talents of the entire staff. The finished product is easy to share digitally with those curious about self-publishing, who may see a reflection of themselves in our former clients.

One of my favorite aspects of Five Questions is its variety of clients and projects. Five Questions represents authors who began the self-publishing process unsure of the value of their stories, authors who have sent their Modern Memoirs-published books to the Library of Congress, authors who wrote books primarily for the benefit of family or even for one specific family member, and authors who wrote books for self-expression. One client who has published three books with us, Stephen Rostand, explained his motivation for writing a family history in his interview: “I wanted to make sure my children and grandchildren and cousins knew something about their origins so they would not be orphans in history. After all, our past is part of all of us and knowing who we are should help guide us in the future.”

The presence of several repeat authors in Five Questions, some of whom are featured more than once in the book, may point to the value that our clients find not just in the Modern Memoirs publishing experience, but in these interviews, as well. A former client who is considering embarking on a new project with Modern Memoirs may revisit their “Reflections” blog to recall the specific obstacles they encountered and rewards they received from their first book. In her interview with client Elizabeth Tsai, who has published five books with Modern Memoirs, Liz asked what made her decide to return to the company to pursue her second project. Tsai answered, “[My first project] A Grandmother’s Diary was a way to test the waters. I thoroughly enjoyed working with Modern Memoirs, and I was confident that they would be as superb and as encouraging, if not more so, with the second project. The experience of working on the autobiography was akin to, but more fun and fruitful than, taking a course on memoir writing at a university. I learned a great deal, I had the fervent support of experts, and I exulted in the friendship of noble souls.”

As we celebrate three decades of helping hundreds of writers create the beautiful books they envision, we invite you to read about some of their experiences, and to share this Digital Book with anyone who might be ready to publish a book of their own with Modern Memoirs, Inc.


Emma Solis is publishing associate for Modern Memoirs.

A Modern Memoirs First: Publishing a Pair of Tête-bêche Books


As lovers of books of all shapes, sizes, and types, the Modern Memoirs staff is always on the lookout for opportunities to push the limits of conventional book design. Recently, a repeat client wished to publish a bilingual, two-volume autobiography, with each volume containing the original Chinese text and its English translation. After exploring several out-of-the-box design possibilities, Modern Memoirs ended up creating an economical, very special pair of books with an uncommon binding method called tête-bêche.

“the tête-bêche technique is used to combine two books into one”

Tête-bêche roughly translates to “head-to-foot,” with the latter part of the term from an archaic French word for "double-ended." (The French phrase “un lit bêchevet” is a related term that refers to a bed with heads at either end, and etymology ultimately traces back to the Latin “biceps,” or two-headed.) In bookbinding, the tête-bêche technique is used to combine two books into one, as the second book is rotated 180 degrees so that it is upside down and begins at the back cover. The reader can choose either side of the book to begin from, and then flip it over to read the rest.

Though tête-bêche binding is very rarely used today, you may be familiar with it if you’ve read science fiction or mystery stories published by Ace Books in the 1950s–1970s. Earlier examples date back to Europe in the 19th century (and possibly beforehand), which combine religious texts—consider, for example, having the Old and New Testaments bound in this way. Today, tête-bêche binding is most commonly used in countries with two official languages, such as Canada. Since each text in a tête-bêche book gets its own front cover and place on the spine, the style presents both texts in the same way, without implying a hierarchy of one version or language as the primary one.

“The design’s effectiveness in affirming the equal value and importance of two languages was an excellent reason for us to use tête-bêche binding for our client’s two-volume, bilingual autobiography”

The design’s effectiveness in affirming the equal value and importance of two languages was an excellent reason for us to use tête-bêche binding for our client’s two-volume, bilingual autobiography. Once translation, editorial, and design phases were complete, we worked closely with our printer affiliate to pull off the resulting complex production process. We even shipped printed, tapebound galleys for the printer to use as hard-copy mockups to ensure all of the pages in the differently oriented parts of the two books were placed correctly, and that the two “front” covers on each book were properly positioned. We were all nervous when advance copies arrived at our office, and when we unboxed them we were relieved and delighted. The books came out beautifully! Our client received lots of praise, and we were gratified that we had been able to create custom books that fit all of our client’s wants and needs.

Now we find ourselves positively bursting with ideas for other uses of tête-bêche bindings. Imagine a tête-bêche memoir about a marriage, with one side by each partner; a memoir about one’s parents or grandparents; or a genealogy for both sides of the family. Once you start dreaming up possibilities, it’s hard to stop! Contact us today if any of these ideas spark your imagination, or if you’d like to explore other custom binding options to suit a special project of your own.


Emma Solis is publishing associate for Modern Memoirs.

“Bro, Put Your Skis On”: Writing Lessons from Woolf (and My Brother) on the Slopes


From far away, I imagine I resembled an inkblot on a sheet of notebook paper, my dejected form silhouetted against the relentless glare of the snowy mountain slope. Paralyzed on the left margin of the “page,” I watched helplessly as other figures slid from top edge to bottom, gliding like droplets of ink that somehow resisted being absorbed into the “paper.” I had all the equipment I needed to continue down the mountain, my skis and poles lying flat on the snow beside me, and I had taken several skiing lessons in the days prior. I could see in my mind’s eye the swooping curves I needed to make in order to descend in a slow and controlled manner, and I visualized those turns again and again, planning, refining, and wishing my thoughts alone would propel me into action. But rather than pushing me to my feet, any courage or willpower I possessed lay slumped within me like a fussy toddler in the arms of a frustrated caregiver, all boneless, passive resistance to my wishes.

“I recognized this feeling—the feeling of knowing exactly what I needed to do and how to do it, while confronting an obstacle, a steel wall, that denied my abilities and desires.”

I recognized this feeling—the feeling of knowing exactly what I needed to do and how to do it, while confronting an obstacle, a steel wall, that denied my abilities and desires. It was a feeling that had crept up in my creative life when I was about to edit my own piece, or when I was beginning to write down a personal experience. In those cases, I often resorted to distracting myself and pushing off my work to another day—anything to avoid looking at the obstacle directly. There on the mountain, though, with the bleak options of either getting over my anxiety or spending the night in the snow, I had to somehow break through the obstacle I faced.

From my position at the top of the mountain, I saw my siblings looking up at me and assumed they were wondering why I hadn’t followed their trail. Instead, I’d been sitting in the snow for probably ten minutes, a chill beginning to creep through my ski-pants bib and jacket. I pulled my phone out to numbly scroll my apps, as if that would help the situation, only to immediately receive a call from my brother.

“Bro, put your skis on,” he said the second I picked up.

I was defeated but didn’t want to admit that to a person who had started flinging himself down intermediate runs on only our second day of skiing. “Just go on,” I said. “I’ll make my way down eventually.”

“Are you stuck?” he asked, and without waiting for my reply he said, “I’m coming to get you,” hanging up before I could object.

Fifteen minutes later, my brother rescued me, calmly encouraging my slow progress down the mountain and never leaving my side. Once we made it to the bottom, he pointed out that I had indeed been able to ski down the slope on my own two feet. Rather than feeling successful, however, I was frustrated that I hadn’t been able to do it without him, and I passed on his offer to go up the mountain again.

Instead, I returned alone to my aunt and uncle’s lodge, where I decided to throw myself onto the couch to read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, which one of my professors had recommended to me before I left on a break from college to go skiing with my family. It was a good recommendation. Almost immediately, I fell in love with Woolf’s idiosyncratic style, her focus on the internal world, and the winding alleyways of thought and language down which she sends her readers. Suddenly a passage stopped me with a jolt of recognition:

“She could see it all so clearly, so commandingly, when she looked: it was when she took her brush in hand that the whole thing changed. It was in that moment’s flight between the picture and her canvas that the demons set on her who often brought her to the verge of tears and made this passage from conception to work as dreadful as any down a dark passage for a child.”

These words, of course, reminded me of my creative work, where I sometimes felt a sense of paralysis during “that moment’s flight” from idea to execution. But I also pictured myself on the mountain, mentally tracing turns down the snowy slopes and totally unable to make myself carry them out. Seeing myself sitting in front of a blank screen and then connecting that vision to my defeat on the ski slopes suddenly illuminated the obstacle I hadn’t been willing to examine: my fear of the loss of control.

“I thought of it as like a dance—making choices, and letting go; control, and no-control.”

I wanted to ski because when I had slipped out from under my own anxiety during my lessons, and even when I dejectedly made my way down the slope with my brother next to me, I was exhilarated by the novelty and freedom of gliding down the slope. I loved the view of the looming mountains, the wind on my face, and the alternating feelings of control and loss of control when I pointed my skis downhill and allowed gravity to take me. I thought of it as like a dance—making choices, and letting go; control, and no-control. My first day of ski lessons had taught me that I needed to trust the slip downhill in order to make good, stabilizing turns. During what felt like a freefall into gravity’s force, I shakily counted aloud, “One, two, three—” three seconds for the mountain—and then I threw my weight onto my downhill foot and turned, counting again, “One, two, three—” three seconds directed by me.

Facing a lack of control can be paralyzing, no matter what we are doing. At some point, a writer must give in to the knowledge that their work might not come out exactly as planned or pictured. There is a risk there, as real to some of us as that of a broken bone to a skier. Perhaps this is the foundation of the steel wall of writer’s block that can feel so defeating to many of us. Language is an imperfect means of conveying thoughts and feelings, ideas and memories, but it’s one of the best tools we have, like the skis and boots and poles we use to hurl ourselves down mountains. The product of language leading us where it will, and a writer’s brave effort to carve their own path within it, is writing.

Later on the same afternoon when I read the passage by Woolf, I put my gear back on and trudged out to ride the ski lift. The recognition of a private sentiment, expressed in the beautiful voice of a beloved author, had dislodged some sticky thing in my psyche, letting me face the mountain again. This time, I didn’t fail; I flew.

I haven’t skied since, and I might not ever ski again, but I know I will always be a writer. This necessarily means that I will find myself confronting obstacles again and again, steel walls blocking my writer’s path, or chasms between idea and execution waiting to swallow my intentions whole. I can’t control what my path looks like. My only option is to let my brother’s words, “Bro, put your skis on,” echo in my heart, and trust the fall.


 

Emma Solis is publishing associate for Modern Memoirs.

Brushstrokes in the Portrait of You: 5 Ways to Approach Your Memoir

Detail of Vincent van Gogh, Self-Portrait 1889, oil on canvas


Writing a memoir, like creating any work of art, requires thousands of choices along the way. They may not feel like monumental choices—using a nickname instead of a formal name, say, or whether to include that little story from college—but each one is, in fact, a brushstroke in the portrait of you. It follows that there is no one true memoir of your life, but millions of possible versions dependent on your decisions. Ideally, this is a liberating realization for a memoir writer, but it can also induce some anxiety. Out of an entire life’s worth of stories, how do you begin to decide what to include and what to omit? What to emphasize and what to downplay? How to balance storytelling with documentation? Questions such as these are often what motivate writers to turn to our staff for guidance and support.

No matter what you write, a compelling narrative will rise out of your reflections.

First, there’s no need to worry, as structural or developmental editing is one of the earliest and most critical parts of the editorial process. When Modern Memoirs’ editors review your manuscript, they will point out places where your readers might like more details, and help you connect themes across the entire work. That’s one of the magic tricks of memoirs: no matter what you write, a compelling narrative will rise out of your reflections. Our editors will help you ensure that your memoir portrays your life’s story clearly and creatively.

Second, while many writers prefer a chronological structure, there are ways to write a compelling and thorough memoir that don’t follow a linear sequence from birth to the present day. Instead, you may find interest in one of the alternative approaches listed at the bottom of this article. Freeing yourself from a conventional structure might help you loosen up and discover intriguing repetitions and connections in your life.

I first began thinking about unconventional memoir structure after being introduced to Modern Memoirs client Harold Hirshman’s book sketches from memory, a compilation of essays on disparate memories written across the author’s life. Hirshman recently returned to reprint his book with updated content, and as I reviewed the project I discovered that though his “sketches” are short, they each pack a potent emotional punch. A few favorite chapter titles of mine are, “a psalm to golf and drycleaning,” “I Have Visited Cleveland More Often in My Life than Any Other City on Earth,” “I Did Something I Wanted to Do,” and “What Is Not in The New Yorker.” These titles alone give me a great sense of the author’s witty personality and what his life might be like. I can tell that the writer was following what interested him at the moment—and as a reader, that interests me.

Then I noticed that the last two commercially published memoirs I read, In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado and Passing for Human by Liana Finck, both employ unconventional structures, as well. In the Dream House is a memoir about a yearlong abusive romantic relationship. Instead of walking the reader through the story step-by-step, the author chose to write short, surreal vignettes that each explore the relationship through a different narrative archetype. In this way the situation is examined at hundreds of different angles, exploring its every facet: the love, the joy, the anger, the betrayal, the horror, and more. Its chapters are titled along the lines of “Dream House as Bildungsroman” (a coming-of-age story archetype); “Dream House as Creature Feature” (a horror movie archetype), or “Dream House as a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure.” The collective impact of these diverse angles gave me so much pleasure in reading this book, despite its, at times, harrowing content. Not only is it a bold and honest piece of writing, it is profoundly creative. I closed Machado’s memoir with appreciation for how its very structure highlights the fact that within each of our stories are a hundred different versions, all of which, on some level, are true.

Passing for Human by The New Yorker cartoonist Liana Finck also plays with the audience’s expectations. Each chapter is an exploration of a different potential root of the author’s personality (her mother, her father, and her childhood are all culprits). She weaves together the romantic problems she encounters in the present with these childhood stories in order to draw connections. In addition, Finck frequently portrays her personal narrative with symbolism from well-known stories that hold importance for her, like the book of Genesis in the Bible, which also serves to highlight her perspective and background as a Jewish author.

Drawing on these examples, here are five ideas for structuring a memoir in an unconventional way. Following one of these unique paths during your writing process may expose connections and themes in your story that you hadn’t expected to find.

1. Writing as Play (or a stream-of-consciousness start)

            Write everything that comes into your mind, without restricting yourself, for 30 minutes or an hour. See what emerges and how it shows your unique personality and writing approach. If you need a prompt, choose one of these:

  • “It’s hard to know where to begin to tell my story, and so I will begin in the middle. When I was [insert half the age you are now] I…”

  • “I was born in [year], a time when this country was…”

  • “When I was a child I loved to…”

2. Follow a Feeling

            Sometimes, I try to think back on times I’ve experienced a particularly strong emotion (disappointment, anxiety, or gratitude, for instance). It’s amazing how many more personal stories I can remember by tracing that emotion. This also gives you the chance to easily give your memoir a theme. If you need a prompt, just start with: “I was [disappointed/worried/thankful] when…”

3. Zero In

Choose a few strong stories that help exemplify what you want to say about something or someone important in your past, such as the way you grew up sharing meals with your family, or how your mother was a perfectionist. Start with, “There is no way for me to write this memoir without first sharing that I…”

4. Mythify your Life

Like Machado and Finck, you can compare your story to famous stories, myths, and archetypes, which may reveal some interesting similarities and differences. Start with something like, “Have you heard the story of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ [or another such story]? Here’s my account of how I strayed off the path and lived to tell the tale…”

5. Listen to the Music

            If a topic gives you joy and passion but is not conventionally included in a memoir as a focus for your career—for instance, your creative hobby, or favorite genre of music—include it anyway. Writing about your passions is a fantastic way to show your individuality, and it will likely lead you to remember and want to write down more life stories. For example, if you love a particular singer, start there. “I have always loved listening to [name the artist] because…”

Once you get started on one of these five paths to writing your memoir, you may find it hard to stop writing, and that’s a good thing. Just let the words keep flowing, and then reach out to Modern Memoirs if you’d like help bringing them to print.


 

Emma Solis is publishing associate for Modern Memoirs, Inc.

What’s in My Book of Delights? My Dad’s Knack for Joy


My dad, Miguel Solis, and me at my graduation from Smith College, May 2023

 Soon after my graduation from Smith College in May 2023, I joined the online alumnae book club. The very first title selected for the group has turned out to be a book I know I will always cherish. The Book of Delights is a collection of lyrical essays by poet Ross Gay, though I strongly believe the project could be called a memoir. Gay wrote the book by observing and exploring the concept of delight through daily essays written over the course of a year, many of which weave in elements of his personal history. Reading this exuberant, provocative work is like a slap of fresh wind to the face as it defies a world that so often devalues and dilutes delight. It challenges us to nurture delight when we are constantly told that it is trivial. Inspired by Gay’s fierce declaration of this ethos of delight, I decided to start keeping a book of delights, too, for my own remembrance and enjoyment.

“sticking out like a lit match in a room of mild-mannered adults.”

My dad showing off his “Smith College Dad” T-shirt, October 30, 2019

My dad buckling in my sibling Rafael for a 5th grade class trip, May 17, 2017

I also drew inspiration from my father, Miguel Solis Jr., since he embodies Gay’s ethos of delight in his own way, as a Mexican American man from El Paso, Texas. He possesses an amazing ability to delight (there’s no better word for it) everyone around him while being nothing like them, sticking out like a lit match in a room of mild-mannered adults. Put another way, he’s always been comfortable with, or has even delighted in, being the odd one out. For example, despite coming from a culture of machismo, my dad never had any issues joining me in girly activities, or talking about being my stay-at-home parent for my first couple of years. I remember walking into a new Girl Scouts troop meeting as a little kid and finding I was the only one with a dad in tow instead of a mom. But soon my dad was wowing the crowd, milking his outsider status to provoke everyone’s raucous laughter, and finding camaraderie and solidarity with the moms. Any nervousness I’d felt about being the different kid melted away.

My dad has always followed wherever laughter led him, taking my siblings and me along for the ride. A few years after that Girl Scout meeting, he attended a “bike rodeo” event at school, at which he jumped on one of our small bikes and zipped up and down the asphalt, looking much like a gorilla on a tricycle (he said so himself). My teacher and classmates shrieked with laughter, and my siblings and I felt giddy with pride in our fearless, funny dad. Another time, in the humid hallway where kids crammed together waiting to get picked up after school, everyone had tuned out the urgent monotone of names called for dismissal over the loudspeaker. Then we snapped back to attention when we heard, “Mickey Mouse!” “Donald Duck!” “Spongebob Squarepants!” and I grinned with my friends as we realized that the call was for me.

My dad on a swingset in Austin, Texas, January 11, 2015

“I’ve come to see his knack for joy as a superpower of sorts. He lives with delight, no matter how persistently the larger world ignores or discourages it”

Perhaps the greatest power of delight is that it does much more than brighten up a slightly boring day; it helps us live, and it helps us connect. I was surprised to learn recently about the Latinx Paradox, which highlights that Latinx Americans generally live longer than non-Latinx white Americans, despite having higher health risks and lower incomes on average. One of the proposed explanations, which has been supported by small studies so far, is that Latinx people laugh on more occasions and live closer to family on average, leading to happier, healthier, longer lives. I can’t help but think about my dad and the rest of my Mexican American family in this context, boldly inserting themselves into the non-Latinx social fabrics of schools, jobs, and neighborhoods with joy and openness; but this paradox can remind everyone of the concrete power of delight. As people, we are meant for delight. Our physiology itself rewards it.

Through reading Gay’s book and thinking about my dad, I’ve come to see his knack for joy as a superpower of sorts. He lives with delight, no matter how persistently the larger world ignores or discourages it, and I am profoundly grateful for his example. And so, in his honor and inspired by Gay, I share my delight of the day, the one I’ve written on the first page of my own book of delights: the delight of laughing along with my dad and the rest of my family.

Now it’s your turn: What will be at the front of your own “Book of Delights”? A person? A place? A hobby? A memory? Write it down in the comments if you’d like. Then get a journal, or open a new document on your computer, and keep on writing—and delighting in doing so.


Emma Solis is publishing associate for Modern Memoirs.