The Sun

I was writing a chapter about my childhood in Lowell, Massachusetts and I got stuck on the idea of the sun vs. the word “sun.” I had this idea that the sun was always out, or something like that, and then I remembered the sign on the Lowell Sun newspaper building. I was learning to read and this relationship between the word and the thing itself was new. One of the things I love about writing memoir is what you remember as  you start to write–those “tip of the tongue” moments that reveal themselves once you begin pulling up and recording memories.

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