I came across this article about the writer Julie Myerson and the problems which arose from her including details of her own teenage son’s addiction to cannabis in her novel, “The Lost Child”. She came in for a lot of criticism, nay, abuse, from all sorts of people for writing about her family. And yet, I wonder how many writers base a lot of their “fiction” on their own lives. After all, it’s the area of life they probably know best.
As I read the article I remembered reading Michele Hanson’s regular column, “Treasure”, long ago, about the trials and tribulations of life with a teenage daughter, not even a drug-addicted teenage daughter, just plain mother-daughter stuff. I looked it up on the internet and found this article by Michele Hanson from 2010.
When I was reading her original “Treasure” column, our own daughter was going through teenage rebellion in her own fairly quiet way. I think I annoyed her quite a bit by laughing at “Treasure” and pointing out the similarity to my own “Treasure”, approximately the same age. I even wrote a version of my own, describing the fun and games of teenage friends camping in the garden. It has to be said that she was generally quite charming within the family, even agreeing to wear a flowery headdress when she was bridesmaid at her favourite uncle’s wedding. But there were times when she was a real pain in the neck. We could be walking down a shopping street, chatting happily when I would realise that she had dropped behind by about five yards. This was because she had spotted a school friend and did not want to be seen out and about with her mother!! And we did have some wham bang arguments about boundaries!
I was apparently not the only one to find Michele Hanson describing my own life. When she died in 2018, people wrote letters to newspapers in her praise. Here are a couple of examples:
Sarah Carter writes: The many columns by Michele Hanson sustained me for several years. First Treasure, who was the same age as my own free-spirited daughter – she painted her bedroom black at the same time as mine did – and then Mother, whose death came just before that of my own mother, who died aged 101 after living with me for 13 years. I do not know how I would have managed all those years without Michele’s caustic commentary.
After I wrote a condolence letter to her on her mother’s death she rang me up – much easier than writing a reply, she said – and I felt even more bonded to her. And when she launched her book Living With Mother at the Guardian’s offices I was able to tell her in person.
Margaret Heaton writes: I feel that I have lost a friend in Michele Hanson. Way back when she was writing about looking after her mother, she was bemoaning how long it took to peel potatoes. I wrote telling her it was totally unnecessary, and that we never peel ours, as most of the nutrients are just behind the skin. She sent such a lovely letter in response.
In Michele Hanson’s 2010 article she describes how her once stroppy, opinionated, determined daughter had made use of those very qualities to forge a career, among other things setting up a charity called Small Steps, which aims to provide shoes, food, clothes and medical care for children working on the world's giant rubbish tips. Amongst her other qualities she had developed a strong sense of justice and the ability to fight for what she thought was right.
And I look at my own “Treasure”, who by a fairly convoluted route got herself a degree and a teaching qualification and is now a highly respected member of staff in a local primary school. She runs a tight ship and her small pupils, and their parents, love her! Sometimes stroppy just means strong-willed and determined. I’m glad we didn’t squash her!
And we get on very well!
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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