Don’t Write A Book About It: Drawing A Fine Line Outside the Sandbox

I am on a mission to help my instructor find a new book for her class on women warriors.  I’ve previously discussed with all you my great frustration over Helen Benedict’s The Lonely Soldier and I’ve verbally expressed my interest in finding a new book to balance out the conversation of women in the military for this class.  Collectively, we’ve agreed this book was one end of the conversation spectrum and the other was filled by Jessica Scott who speaks from her personal experiences as a soldier and a mother.

Below are some books I’ve identified on Amazon:

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I wish the person who wrote the blurb below paid more attention to the fact it’s ‘desert’ not dessert.

And I’m a bit irritated when the word ‘naive’ is thrown around to describe service members.  We’re all a little naive walking through life at one point or another, however this obnoxious word creeps into the portrayal of women too much for my liking.

I think I need a bumper sticker that reads:

No one made you join.  [Statement is as applicable for men as it is for women.]

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I’ve only sifted through titles so far but I’m rather nervous I won’t find something I find appropriate for this class.  I am not a subject matter expert on the war in Iraq (and I have no experience in Afghanistan) but I made the statement today I may need to suck it up and write a book.  [Professional…I know.]

Years ago, I was told not to write a book about my experiences.  I’m still a little angry that my coworker thought it was his place to say such a thing to me. However, with some of the above representations (and I’d say equally the same for books about Post-9/11 male service members) I can acknowledge the frustration of persons capitalizing on their experiences, good and bad.  We live in a generation sucking up their 15 minutes of fame in practically every media format out there.  It doesn’t seem to matter either if that attention is positive or negative either.

If I take these footsteps forward, they will not be to reinforce the 21-year-old I was when I came home, the girl who loved to say “This one time in Iraq” which resulted in my peers mimicking my voice and joy in their wry humor.

More so, I’d like to showcase the 31-year-old I am trying to understand the transformative process of becoming a Marine, picking up a journey of a deceased ex-boyfriend, in a society that still questions the roles and contributions of female service members.

The information below is a good tipping point to this future conversation.  It’s pre-9/11 but  irks me by the name and premise.

~C

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