You are going to take on the role of ghost writer.

A ghost writer is a person

who writes a story for another person, pretending to be that person. You are
going to write a memoir for one of the people you interviewed over the
holiday.

A good memoir:

Is told using FIRST PERSON point of view

Causes the reader to feel strong EMOTIONS
Reveals how the narrator feels by showing not telling
Ex: My hands trembled. My heart felt like it was
going to jump out of my chest (NOT - I was scared.)
Is about the narrators EXPERIENCE (not about recounting dates
and events)
Reveals interesting CHARACTER TRAITS about the narrator
Shows what the narrator LEARNED or how they CHANGED from
the experience
Gives enough DETAILS about the setting and circumstances so
that the reader can understand the background of the situation

Choose one event or story that you were told over the holiday. Pretend you
were that person in that situation. Tell the story from their point of view.
Write the story in Google Docs and paste it into your blog when you are
finished. Before you post it, re-read the requirements of a good memoir
(above) and make sure your story covers the criteria.
 Draft
12 Months....

I opened the glass door to hear the sound of very high-pitched,

shrill crying. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage,
thinking of all the reasons Zo would be crying. I climbed up the
polished dark marble stairs, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
With every step I took, the wails got louder and louder. I
practically ran across the slippery hallway to reach the door, my
heels clicking with every rushed step I took. Quickly unlocking the
door, I stepped inside and kicked my high heels into the shoe
closet. As soon as I peeked my head out, I was attacked by a
crying baby. I scanned Zos chubby face for any injuries. I let out
a long breath at the sight of her unharmed face.
Let me change out of my uniform first, okay Zo ? I said, picking
her up and brushing tears off her red face,turn the TV on for her
mom!
I untangled myself from my daughter and dashed for the door to
my bedroom. I quickly changed out of my stiff uniform and into a
much more comfortable dress. I sat down on the plush bed to
think for a minute. I noticed the lack of a baby crying and the
more soft, cheerful sound of nursery rhymes in the background. I
thanked whoever invented the television. Zo crying? TV. Zo not
eating? TV. Everyone busy? TV. You get the gist. I stood up and
made my way to the door.

12 Months....

Zo? Zo? Zo!!! I yelled as she ran away from me. She
crossed the grass field to the waterfall on the other side. She
either ignored me or couldnt hear me. I didnt know which one
was better. I was kind of hoping for the former. I ran to her petite
figure and picked her up. I looked at the innocent expression on
her face. Her eyes seemed to avoid mine. I craned my neck to
follow her small, delicate head. Her eyes averted from mine as I
looked into her eyes.. She was struggling to get free from my
strong grasp. I let her go and set her down gently on the grass I
watched as she waddled to a group of other kids. I could feel
heat rush to my face as Zo took a toy away from another child.
When the child tried to take it back, she hit him. I rushed over and
took the toy away from my daughter and gave it back to the child.
I apologized over the hectic sound of Zo crying. I carried Zo and
walked back to the house, rocking her back and forth, trying to
soothe her. I opened the door and sat her down on the sofa. I
turned on the TV. She stopped crying almost immediately.

13 Months ....

Mom, we need to talk, I said to my mother. I slumped down on a

chair.
Yeah? she looked up from her newspaper and adjusted her
square glasses.
I think Zo could be autistic, I started, fiddling with my fingers,
I mean, shes a bit over one years old and she doesnt know her
own name, she doesnt listen and she cant hold eye contact.
Shes also very active,
I could see the gears turning in my mothers head. After a minute
that seemed more like an hour, she said something.
Nonsense. Zo is just like her father. If she doesnt feel like doing
it, she wont. Give her time, darling, my mother argued weakly. I
think that we both knew that she didnt believe the words that
were coming out of her mouth.
Im taking her to the doctor anyways, I said, standing up and
brushing down my dress. I made a mental note to search up
autism doctors in Ho Chi Minh City.
Fine. Whatever makes you feel better, she said.
She muttered something incoherent as I left.

13 Months ....

Told you, my mother said, a smug look on her face. She was
cradling a sleeping Zo in her arms. I looked at the piece of paper
in my hands. When I read it again, I felt the weight of the world lift
off my shoulders. A slow smile spread across my face. I smiled
gleefully at the small, peaceful figure in my mothers arms. I let
out a breath I didnt know I was holding since we left the doctors
office.
Yeah, I guess you were right, I said. I let out a shaky laugh.
Mother knows best, she tapped my nose. Zo stirred in her lap.
She let out a small sound. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. I
reached for my bag and pulled out a small toy. I gave it to Zo.
Zo eyed it with interest and then started playing with it. Before I
knew it, she threw it across the floor of the taxi. I reached for my
bag to get another toy. She reached for it and then threw it across
the floor. I picked up the scattered toys and put them back. I gave
her a picture book instead. Zo lost interest quickly.

18 Months ....

I set Zo down gently on the bed. Tears ran down my face. I re-
read the email from the headmaster for the umpteenth time. I
shook my head. I stepped over to the cupboard and pulled out the
doctors paper. I stared at it endlessly. I ripped it up. I buried a
scream into a pillow, not caring if Zo woke up. I banged my head
carelessly against the headboard
No...No... Zo isnt autistic. Just active. The doctors said so... I
assured myself over and over. I curled up into a ball and cried
there for what seemed like hours.
I woke up shaking uncontrollably and sweating. I took a deep
breath and then let it out. I repeated this again and again until I
felt satisfied. I remembered a conversation I had with a friend a
few months back. I realized what I needed to do.

Honey? We need to take Zo to Bangkok, I said over the phone.

What? Why? my husband said. He was, without a doubt very
confused, and also very sleepy. There was, a fifteen hour
difference between us.
Hospital, I stifled a yawn. He wasnt the only one tired.
Can you please be more vague? he said, obviously annoyed
now.
Sorry. We have to check up to see if Zos autistic, I explained.
Shes not autistic! How many times do I have to tell you? he
nearly shouted.
As many times that I get an email from the headmaster from
Zos school telling me that 1, shes expelled and 2, that shes
autistic! I screamed back.
What?
Will you book a time or not?I asked. My arms were crossed over
my chest and my foot was tapping impatiently against the floor.
Oh, of course. Should I book a time when Kellys on holiday? he
asked.
Sure. Goodnight or morning. Whatever time it is over there,
Bye.

20 Months ....

So, no screen time right? my husband said as we walked out of

the doctors office.
I nodded absently as I read the files the doctor gave us. My heart
fell to the floor. The white tiled floor suddenly looked very
interesting to me. I spotted Kelly and Zo sitting on the sofas
waiting for us. By the look of hurt on Kellys face, she knew the
result.
What did the doctor say we have to do? Kelly asked.
No screen time and we have to talk to her more, my husband
said.
Can we go home now? I asked. I was already standing up and
pushing the stroller towards the glass door. When Kelly reached
me, she tried to catch my eye but I looked away with an
expressionless face. We made our way towards the hotel. As soon
as we got back into our room, I fell onto the bed and stayed there.
It felt like the whole world was crashing down on me. There was a
heavy feeling in my stomach. Everything was falling apart. No
matter how many times the doctor told me that it wasnt my fault,
I wouldnt believe it. He had said that babies were born with
autism but the effects werent evident until later on. If I had just
been more careful...
Why me?!?I shouted into oblivion with a shaky voice. I hated
myself in that moment. I hated my life.

And here I am now.

Zo is 22 months and shes doing much better. Ive cut off all her
TV and hired a personal teacher to stay at home with her. I talk
and spend a lot more time with her than I did before. I keep track
of almost everything she does. My parents are trying their bests
to help her. She can look at people in the eye, she listens much
better and she can almost say Mom. The only way to solve
autism is to admit your mistakes and accept that your child has it.
If all you can do is deny, nothing is going to be solved. I know that
I can get through this. Zo is going to get better. I just know.