Interview

A Conversation with Annie Korzen

I spent 13 years producing a popular spoken word series in Los Angeles where I had the opportunity to meet an incredible array of storytellers. This month I'm introducing one of them to youAnnie Korzenwho at the seasoned age of 83 has become a TikTok sensation. She shares her candid thoughts on life and variety of taboo topics in her new book The Book of Annie


ANNIE KORZEN is a colorful actress with a decades-long career in TV, film, and theater—including a recurring role on Seinfeld and a center-stage spot touring with The Moth. In The Book of Annie, she offers her trademark unabashed takes on both everyday and typically taboo topics. These wildly funny musings from an eighty-three-year-old TikTok sensation will have you laughing out loud.

 

KARIN GUTMAN:  You call yourself a humorist. What does that word mean to you?

ANNIE KORZEN:  A humorist uses comedy not just to get laughs, but also to explore serioussometimes emotional issues.

KARIN:  What guidance do you have for those who want to cultivate more funny in their writing?

ANNIE:  Honesty is the key to any humorous writing.  And the target of your humor should be YOU.  Your ridiculous personal problems are very likely shared by many others, and you are offering them some relief when you expose your own vulnerability. One of my most successful stories is about the darkest period of my life: my postpartum depression.  It's a laugh riot! 

KARIN:  How did you as a TikTok sensation come about? And why do you think you’ve struck a chord?

ANNIE:  I was looking for a larger audience, and a young friend suggested TikTok.  I told her she was nuts, but decided to give it a try.  Saying "Yeah, why not?" is one of the themes of my book, and this is one time that my mantra really paid off.

When my (mostly young) fans stop me on the street they often tell me that they find me funny, honest, and inspiring. This is very gratifying, since I have always been criticized for being too opinionated and talkative.

KARIN:  You seem to embody a real freedom to be yourself. Where does that come from? And how can we all have more of that? 

ANNIE:  I think part of the "wisdom of age" is learning to be comfortable in your own skin.  I no longer feel the need to please everyone, and I have developed the confidence that my thoughts are worth sharing.

KARIN:  As you look back on your life, whatif anythinghas held you back?

ANNIE:  I've wasted too much time trying to fit in, instead of celebrating my own “differentness.”

KARIN:  What inspired you to write this book and what kind of experience do you hope to give your readers?

ANNIE:  First and foremost, I need the money.  Plus I love attention. And I sincerely believe that the laughs and tears in my book just might make the world a better place.  Everyone on the planet should read it, and then name me Ruler of The Earth.

KARIN:  You’ve toured with The Moth. What do you think creates a successful story? Can you share about your process of writing a Moth story? Where do you begin?

ANNIE:  A story should be about a dramatic event that changed your life for the better. It should end with you suddenly understanding the meaning of the journey you've just been on, and how this adventure has caused you to grow as a humanoid.  At The Moth, you have a director/editor who gives copious notes after each draft, and I'm always amazed at the insights that they offer that I have totally missed.

KARIN:  What do you think the key is to leading a successful life?

ANNIE:  A comfortable home, satisfying work, loving friends and family, and spaghetti.  Lots of spaghetti.

KARIN:  I find it hard not to mention the recent world events that are unfolding in Israel. How do you maintain your lighthearted spirit in the face of what’s happening?

ANNIE:  For one thing, I'm not sure I do have a lighthearted spirit.  I think a lot of comedy comes from people who have tendencies to anxiety and depression, and expressing one's pain through humor is a form of self-medication.  I have no words for these horrors that we are witnessing, except to ask if it would be the same if women were in charge.  You can probably guess my answer to that one.



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To learn more about Annie Korzen, visit her site.

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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 Abigail Thomas

This month features my conversation with Abigail Thomas, whom Stephen King refers to as the "Emily Dickinson of memoirists." It was wonderful to have many of you there for this live event where she invited us into her home and her creative process, offering a rare and unvarnished peek into how she thinks about memoir; also reading from her latest book Still Life at 80: The Next Interesting Thing.

I am sharing an abridged version of the interview below, in written form, and have also posted the video replay for you to watch in case you missed it.

Be sure to check out the upcoming live author events.


 

Abigail Thomas worked as both a book editor and book agent before writing her own first collection of short stories, Getting Over Tom. Her second and third books, An Actual Life and Herb’s Pajamas, were works of fiction.

Thomas’ memoir, A Three Dog Life, was named one of the best books of 2006 by The Los Angeles Times and The Washington Post, and received the 2006 Inspirational Memoir Award given by Books for A Better Life.

She is also author of the memoirs SafekeepingThinking About Memoir and What Comes Next and How to Like It.

In her new book, Still Life at 80, Thomas ruminates on aging during the confines of COVID-19 with her trademark mix of humor and wisdom, including valuable, contemplative writing tips along the way.

She lives in Woodstock, New York.

To learn more about Abigail Thomas, visit her site.

 

KARIN GUTMAN:  In all the things you’ve written, you seem to write little about your childhood. How do you think the way you were brought up shaped you?
 
ABIGAIL THOMAS:  My father [Lewis Thomas] wrote poetry in the 30s and 40s, which the Atlantic published, and I loved his poems. But he didn’t really start writing for the New England Journal of Medicine until the 70s. If he was excited about something, there would be a tremble and tremor in his voice as he talked about something I had no understanding of, and I thought to myself, That’s the way I want to live, I want to live on the verge, just where he is right now… you don’t know what’s going to happen but you know it’s going to be good. And that is what writing does for all of us, I think. You wake up in gear and you can’t wait to see where you are, where you’ve been, and where you’re going, because you don’t know half the time where you’re going.
 
KARIN:  In the process of writing memoir, you talk about going into the basement and pulling out what’s down there and raising it up to the light. What do you mean by that?
 
ABIGAIL:  Well, it has all its power in the dark, and when you bring it up to the light, you see that it has edges and it’s finite. You look at it really closely—the parts of you you’d rather not know or talk about, but we all have them in all aspects of our lives. It’s so much easier to bring them up and write about them and achieve a kind of clarity that we’re all hungering for, whether we know it or not. It’s a way of putting it somewhere else. And it’s also having control over it. Nobody can sneak up behind you and say, “I know what you did…” I’ve already told you what I did.
 
KARIN:  What does it mean to put it somewhere else?
 
ABIGAIL:  You put it in writing, and it’s no longer in you. It isn’t buried in you somewhere. You’ve made something out of it. You’ve made something different and separate out of it. It’s helpful. You find it easier to forgive yourself for things you don’t even want to admit to. It doesn’t mean everything has to go into the book you’re writing, but it is important to take a look. Who are you kidding if you don’t. It is memoir.
 
I think when you’re writing memoir, if you wind up where you thought you were going to wind up, you probably haven’t looked hard enough. You have to make room for the surprises. It saves lives. It makes all the difference in the world.
 
KARIN:  How does writing memoir save lives?
 
ABIGAIL:  When Rich got hit [by a car]… that’s the only memoir I wrote chronologically as it was happening. I don’t know how I would have gotten through any of that if I weren’t writing it down—where I was, what I was doing, whether I was in the dog park or the lunch room where he was. That saved us both, I think. If you write it... it doesn’t really make sense... but it fits together somehow. I don’t know how else to say that. When you’re going through a real crisis, to keep track of it is better than just being lost, just losing yourself in it.
 
KARIN:  You've written about your aversion to the term narrative arc. How would you define what a story is?
 
ABIGAIL:  Well, I can tell you what I don’t like. I don’t like anything approaching perfection. I don’t like anything neat and tidy. I like a big mess. I like to write in the first person and the third person, and sometimes the second person. When I make things out of clay, I like things rough as though somebody just barely put this together, and I think that must have something to do with the way I write. I don’t know how to answer this except that I like a bit of a mess. I don’t like everything standing straight with its hair combed and its teeth brushed and its buttons all buttoned. The word curiosity is in my head. I want somebody to be curious to see what she’s going to do next, although I never really thought of that before. I want to be curious to see what I do next, and that produces whichever direction I’m going in.
 
Gosh, I wish I knew how to think about this.
 
KARIN:  Well, it’s asking you to analyze your own work, which I suppose takes away from the experience of it.
 
ABIGAIL:  It’s just hard, because my mind doesn’t work that way. I’m not good at analyzing. I think that’s because I didn’t go back to college. Oh well. I can’t do it.
 
KARIN:  You’re giving a good advertisement for not going to school.
 

ABIGAIL:  I don’t think you need school to be a writer. In fact, I think you need to forget everything you learned when you sit down to start—not know where you’re going or have some vague idea.
 
KARIN:  I know you spent some time in publishing. How did that influence you? It’s interesting that you didn’t arrive to the page yourself as a writer until your late 40s, and yet you were around it and it was accessible.
 
ABIGAIL:  It was extremely helpful. I remember getting a book—it was called French Dirt by Robert Goodman. It's still in print. The book wasn't very good, but the little thing in the very front, which was his discussion of what this book would be about, was really good. I learned that if you pay attention and make suggestions, you can get a really good book out of a writer who hasn’t yet written a really good book because you saw 12 sentences that were really good, when he was paying attention. I learned that a writer with spark, or some kind of talent, could get better.
 
I spent an awfully long time crumpling things up and tossing them across the room, saying, Who do you think you are? Because I thought you had to know something and that it had to be important and deep. But no, you just have to start.
 
Anyway, that's what I learned in publishing. I loved it until they made me an assistant editor, and then I realized I'd really have to know what I was talking about. If I loved a book, I would have to speak for whether it made any money or not. So I quit.
 
KARIN:  Do you think about your audience or are you writing purely for yourself?
 

ABIGAIL:  I am writing purely for myself. I'm writing for clarity and I'm writing for fun. And I'm writing to see what the hell the back of my mind is thinking when the front of my mind is doing nothing. It’s just so interesting… The smallest detail can take you someplace. You can write 15 or 20 or 500 pages of it, and then you get to the first sentence of what you're really going to write. So nothing is ever wasted.
 
KARIN:  What do you do when you’re stuck?
 
ABIGAIL: I had a lot of trouble with the beginning of What Comes Next and How to Like It. I’d gotten the whole book ready, but I couldn't find a way to start it. I tried it every which way until suddenly I began to write I can't write this… I can't do this… This is impossible. Then I wrote about what I was doing instead of writing, which was painting, and that segued right into the book. So sometimes, if you're having trouble, just stare at it and say, I hate writing this. I don't want to write this. This is too hard. These are the following 12 reasons why this is too hard. I'm just going to stomp my foot and eat chocolate cake forever… And then you might find that you've gotten yourself right into the book.
 
KARIN:  Do you find moving between creative mediums helpful?
 
ABIGAIL:  It's nice to have something else to do. And the clay is so sensual, which is what I'm doing now. The clay has a mind of its own. You can't boss it around. You can't boss writing around either. But you really can't force the clay and that's interesting and fun and makes for something else to put in whatever you're writing. I’ve done a whole little thing about clay.
 
I think we're supposed to make things with our thumbs and imaginations. Otherwise, it's just shopping, which can be very creative, but I think that's what a lot of this country has turned to use as a creative outlet. There are more interesting things to do.
 
KARIN:  You've watched memoir evolve over the years. What's your perspective on it? I know it's your preferred genre to write in.
 
ABIGAIL:  I love that it wasn't just a fad that disappeared. People kept saying, “This is going to be over within a year's time. Don't bother.” I love that we're curious about other peoples’ lives and that people are willing to write about them. It's been a while since I could read anything of any great length that wasn't written by a student. So, it's hard for me to talk about what memoir is like nowadays. I just love that it's still alive, that it's just as vital an artform as ever, more so probably.
 
KARIN:  What do you think that it says about the age we’re living in and us as a people?
 

ABIGAIL:  I just hope that we’re curious about each other and interested in each other and need help from each other. All of those things can be satisfied in a memoir. You can read about somebody who has experienced something that you've experienced. It helps, I think.
 
KARIN: Thank you, Abby. I think we'll all do a little bit of writing today.
 
ABIGAIL: Oh, please do! You can start with the line, “This is a lie I've told before.” Of course, maybe nobody lied. And you can send it to me when you're done.



Watch the full interview and video replay.

Buy the book

To learn more about Abigail Thomas, visit her site.

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