Personal+experience

Personal experience
[|How to Write an Autobiography] From wikiHow "The best way to remember the past is to try and find things you have kept from that time, such as photos and letters. They may spark just one memory or a whole chain of them. Before you start to write about each stage in your life, try to find items you may have kept from each. Ask family and friends if they have saved anything of yours from that time." wikiHow Use your senses to help describe your stories. Start off with a lot of facts about your life; for example, when and where you were born, where you live (city and state), where you go to school and who you live with. Make **lists** of relatives, friends/girlfriends, enemies, places you've lived over the years, pets you've owned, schools attended, family holidays, illnesses. Under each category, write down a word or two to identify some event that you want to remember. Are you happy or sad? Do you have a lot of friends or just a few? How do you make your school days go by? Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend? What are your favorite places to go on dates? If you are involved in a relationship, do you think it will last forever?
 * Family
 * School

Some good beginnings:
It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured. I realised, somehow, through the screaming in my mind, that even in that shackled, bloody helplessness, I was still free: free to hate the men who were torturing me, or to forgive them. It doesn’t sound like much, I know. But in the flinch and bite of the chain, when it’s all you’ve got, that freedom is a universe of possibility. And the choice you make, between hating and forgiving, can become the story of your life. Roberts, Gregory David (2003) //Shantaram//. Melbourne, Scribe.

I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975. I remember the precise moment, crouching behind a crumbling mud wall, peeking into the alley near the frozen creek. That was a long time ago, but it’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out. Looking back now, I realize I have been peeking into that deserted alley for the last twenty-six years. Hosseini, Khaled (2003) //The kite runner//. London, Bloomsbury.

Many of my childhood memories are of metals: these seemed to exert a power on me from the start. They stood out, conspicuous against the heterogeneousness of the world, by their shining, gleaming quality, their silveriness, there smoothness and weight. They seemed cool to the touch, and they rang when they were struck. Sacks, Oliver (2001)//Uncle Tungsten. Memories of a chemical boyhood//. London, Picador.