By Elizabeth McCracken
"This is the happiest tale on the earth with the saddest ending," writes Elizabeth McCracken in her robust, inspiring memoir. A prize-winning, winning novelist in her 30s, McCracken was once satisfied to be an itinerant author and self-proclaimed spinster. yet unexpectedly she fell in love, bought married, and years in the past was once dwelling in a distant a part of France, engaged on her novel, and awaiting the delivery of her first child.This ebook is set what occurred subsequent. In her 9th month of being pregnant, she realized that her child boy had died. How do you take care of and get over this sort of loss? in fact you don't--but you move on. And in case you have ever skilled loss or love a person who has, the corporate of this awesome ebook can assist you cross on.With humor and heat and unfailing generosity, McCracken considers the character of affection and grief. She opens her middle and leaves all of ours the richer for it.
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"This is the happiest tale on the earth with the saddest ending," writes Elizabeth McCracken in her strong, inspiring memoir. A prize-winning, winning novelist in her 30s, McCracken used to be satisfied to be an itinerant author and self-proclaimed spinster. yet abruptly she fell in love, bought married, and years in the past used to be residing in a distant a part of France, engaged on her novel, and looking forward to the start of her first baby.
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Extra info for An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination: A Memoir
Preposterous! we thought. Who needed four times as many toilets as occupants? But the price was right, and we signed a lease that started in three months, and we went back to Paris. Two weeks later, I sent Edward out to negotiate a pregnancy test. All slightly medical transactions in French pharmacies require negotiation with the pharmacist. I took it, disbelieved it, sent him out for another, which agreed with the first. We didn’t call my occupant the Baby, which seemed inaccurate, cloying, and too optimistic.
I loved family life, adored my parents and my older brother, our decades-old running jokes, our familial obsessions. We went out for long, boozy meals. We took trips together and brought home souvenirs and outlandish stories. The McCracken Family Circus. We even went to the actual circus together, all four of us being actual circus buffs. Yes: I would want children if I met someone with whom I could imagine raising eccentric, friendly, hilarious children who we could bundle off to Europe and museums and circuses no matter how old or young they were.
In the next we’re only stupid. Those moments come later, toward the end of the pregnancy. X-rays and interns aside: the real reason I left Dr. Bergerac is that I didn’t love him. I wanted to. He was very cute and liked Tintin, and he even spoke English, but he was also authoritative, bossy about my weight, and far preferred talking to Edward (as Dr. Baltimore had far preferred talking to me). Before sonograms, he applied the necessary gel from a squirt bottle as though spraying a graffiti tag, and afterward he dropped wads of paper towels onto me from a height and left me to mop up.
An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination: A Memoir by Elizabeth McCracken