Quotes by Leigh Newman

Leigh Newman

After my parents divorced, my father remarried and my brothers were born when I was twelve and sixteen. I was thunderstruck at these kids. The “baby-ness” of them. Their toes. I had never been around babies before.

Baby

Brother

Father

After the age of seven, I began living between my dad in Alaska and my mother in Baltimore. Every three or four months, I would fly the 5,000 miles between the two. And having grown up in Alaska, Baltimore was astonishing.

Alaska

Dad

Mother

Even as my family fell apart and things were at their most hopeless, my dad and I found a lot of happiness in the wilderness – sleeping on the cold gravel and killing as many things as we could get our hands on. Even as my mom got progressively more crazy, we found a happiness, in flashes.

Crazy

Dad

Mom

How do you stop longing for what you absolutely know you can’t get? Which really means: How do you absolutely know you can’t-and won’t-get it, not ever? How do you pinch out that wisp of feeble, ruthless hope?

Longing

Mean

Wisps

I didn’t write the memoir with any sort of intention of feeling better. I wrote the memoir because I had a weird need to write a good story. But once I was done, I did feel better about myself. Not better, just calmer. Because a tremendous onus had been lifted off my day-to-day.

Feel Better

Feelings

Writing

I don’t think many kids question their surroundings. Everything seems so permanent and inevitable growing up, even chaos.

Growing Up

Kids

Thinking

I made myself a rule: write out of love. And when you love somebody, you have to tell the truth about who they are – not the cute “truth” in your head of who they are, the one where you did everything right and they did everything wrong.

Cute

Telling The Truth

Writing

I turned what was a wonderful case of self-reliance into a case of self-exile. Which is not uncommon, I think, in people who grow really early and have to learn how to take care of themselves. They have trouble hinging their lives with anybody else.

People

Self

Thinking

I was an only child. And it’s very much my temperament. I remember playing with a piece of string in my room for hours. I had never thought about what it would be like to have siblings.

Children

Only Child

Sibling

I wasn’t in a position that some other memoirists are, dealing with families who fed them meth, or kidnapped them, or did something that would make the writer not want to see that family again. I wanted to see my family. I wanted to celebrate them. I was proud of who we were, in the wilderness, floating down rapids or hiking over glaciers, and everywhere else.

Floating

Hiking

Want

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Action

Alaska

Animal

Baby

Basics

Believe

Black

Book

Brother

Cells

Chance

Character

Chasing

Children

Contemplating

Crazy

Cute

Dad

Daughter

Different

Divorce

Dream

Drunk

Effort

Eight

Energy

Father

Feel Better

Feelings

Fiction

Fighting

Floating

Fun

Glory

Goal

Growing Up

Heart

Hiking

Honesty

Ideas

Interesting

Issues

Joy

Kids

Kings

Lakes

Littles

Longing

Mature

Mean

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Quotes by Leigh Newman

Leigh Newman

After my parents divorced, my father remarried and my brothers were born when I was twelve and sixteen. I was thunderstruck at these kids. The “baby-ness” of them. Their toes. I had never been around babies before.

After the age of seven, I began living between my dad in Alaska and my mother in Baltimore. Every three or four months, I would fly the 5,000 miles between the two. And having grown up in Alaska, Baltimore was astonishing.

Even as my family fell apart and things were at their most hopeless, my dad and I found a lot of happiness in the wilderness – sleeping on the cold gravel and killing as many things as we could get our hands on. Even as my mom got progressively more crazy, we found a happiness, in flashes.

How do you stop longing for what you absolutely know you can’t get? Which really means: How do you absolutely know you can’t-and won’t-get it, not ever? How do you pinch out that wisp of feeble, ruthless hope?

I didn’t write the memoir with any sort of intention of feeling better. I wrote the memoir because I had a weird need to write a good story. But once I was done, I did feel better about myself. Not better, just calmer. Because a tremendous onus had been lifted off my day-to-day.

I don’t think many kids question their surroundings. Everything seems so permanent and inevitable growing up, even chaos.

I made myself a rule: write out of love. And when you love somebody, you have to tell the truth about who they are – not the cute “truth” in your head of who they are, the one where you did everything right and they did everything wrong.

I turned what was a wonderful case of self-reliance into a case of self-exile. Which is not uncommon, I think, in people who grow really early and have to learn how to take care of themselves. They have trouble hinging their lives with anybody else.

I was an only child. And it’s very much my temperament. I remember playing with a piece of string in my room for hours. I had never thought about what it would be like to have siblings.

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