Vomit splashed on my shoes. Another bullshit night on the suck party circuit. (Too Nick Flynnish?) Or: The sheets were sticky. Someone was in the bathroom but I couldn’t remember who. (Don’t overdo. Save scene for later.) Look at good beginnings and think about. Call me Ishmael. The past is a foreign country. Happy families … (check Google).

- Notes For a Twenty-Something’s Memoir, by Jacqueline Doyle. Do not read if you are a twenty-something nonfiction writer feeling particularly insecure today in your abilities. Just make sure to read it tomorrow.