Last updated on February 28th, 2025 at 04:14 pm
I’ve always loved reading memoirs, but lately, I’ve been approaching them with a different perspective. I’m still reading for the story, of course, but now I’m also studying the craft—examining the literary tools authors use to bring their experiences to life. As someone who hasn’t formally studied creative nonfiction, this process has been eye-opening. It’s helping me figure out how to write my Going East book in a way that goes beyond simply recounting my blog posts.
This isn’t your typical book review. I’m not going to summarize the plot in detail; instead, I’ll share why I recommend the book and, more importantly, what I learned about writing by reading it. Because right now, I’m reading (and re-reading) memoirs with a purpose: to improve my own storytelling.
Love with a Chance of Drowning
The first book I want to review is Love with a Chance of Drowning by Torre DeRoche. It’s an engaging and often humorous memoir about love, adventure, and confronting fears. When Torre—a self-proclaimed city girl with a deep fear of the ocean—falls for a man with dreams of sailing around the world, she unexpectedly finds herself on a journey far outside her comfort zone. It’s not a path I would have taken myself, but that made the story all the more compelling.
Torre’s has a knack for blending vivid descriptions with self-deprecating humour, particularly when recounting her sailing “lessons.” Which I read saying to myself, as a former sailing instructor, “that’s not how to teach it!” These moments are both entertaining and anxiety-inducing, making it easy to get lost in her world.
What I Learned About Writing from This Book
One of the storytelling mechanics that fascinated me was how Torre connects different vignettes into a cohesive chapter. Like many memoirists, I have a collection of short stories and reflections, but they don’t always flow seamlessly—sometimes, I recount events day by day, while at other times, weeks pass without anything noteworthy. Torre handles these transitions skillfully.
One trick she uses is a visual cue in the text: an extra carriage return followed by the first few words of a new section in all caps. This subtle formatting choice signals to the reader that we’re shifting scenes without needing an explicit explanation.
For example:
Rugged fits him so perfectly that I can no longer imagine him any other way.
“LOOK!” I SAY, peering out…
This simple technique keeps the reader oriented while maintaining the natural rhythm of her storytelling—something I’ll definitely consider when structuring my own memoir.
Another aspect I appreciated was Torre’s Author’s Note at the beginning, where she addresses the idea of narrative truth. Like all memoirs, Love with a Chance of Drowning is based on real events, but Torre acknowledges that storytelling techniques—such as reconstructed dialogue—help bring the narrative to life. Dialogue in memoir isn’t about word-for-word accuracy; it’s about capturing the essence of a conversation in a way that makes the story compelling.
This was an important takeaway for me. As I write Going East, I realize I have the freedom to shape conversations in a way that enhances the reader’s experience. That means I can literally put words in my husband’s mouth (LOL)—not to change the truth, but to make our shared story more engaging.
Final Thoughts
If you enjoy memoirs that blend adventure, humour, and personal growth, Love with a Chance of Drowning is well worth reading. Beyond the story itself, it’s also a fantastic study in how to craft an engaging narrative—one that I’ll be revisiting as I continue learning how to tell my own.
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