On Writing High Hopes: A Memoir

by Anne Abel

At the age of 60, after having one desk too many thrown at me, I quit my community college teaching job, and then I panicked. I suffer with severe recurrent depression. I was terrified that without the structure and focus of the classroom I would fall into the abyss of depression. Then I remembered how alive and hopeful I felt at Bruce Springsteen’s concerts and that he was going to be touring in Australia in four months. So, even though I hate to travel, I hate to be alone, and I had not known what a Bruce Springsteen was a year earlier, I booked the trip. Eight concerts, five cities over 26 days. I did not go on this trip to change. I went for structure and focus. But, change I did.

When I came home, for the first time in my life I had a positive ball of energy and a story about me that I was proud of. A story about me that I wanted to tell.

I worked as a freelance writer in Philadelphia for many years. I had no trouble writing about other people. But when it came to writing about myself, I suffered debilitating writer’s block. My brain would shut me down after one sentence. “So what, who cares?” I would hear over and over. When I returned from Australia, I was unable to write the one story I wanted to tell so badly.

Not long after my trip I moved to Chicago with my husband. Our first day there I asked our dog walker what she did when she wasn’t walking dogs. “I host a storytelling open mic, there’s a string of them across the city, and I also tell stories at The Moth.”

I had never heard of storytelling. I had never heard of The Moth. But I knew I had one story to tell.

I had never stood in front of a mic or on a stage. But I forced myself to go to open mics and tell my Australia story. Then a friend insisted that I go with him to The Moth. When we got there he insisted that I put my name in to try to tell a story. I was terrified. But, I did it. When I was called as the tenth and last storyteller of the night, I went up, stumbling on the stairs as I did. The lights were so bright I couldn’t see the audience. But as I spoke, I could hear them gasping and laughing. I told a five-minute story about Australia, and won that night’s StorySlam. Growing up I had been told that I had nothing interesting to say, but now the people at The Moth were telling me something different. After hearing my story, they had so many questions.

Since I had so much trouble writing, I decided I would become a storyteller. To hone my skills, I contacted a coach. The first thing she asked me was, “If I could wave a magic wand and grant you one wish, what would it be?” She shocked me with this question. I thought she’d want to know my storytelling goals. Spontaneously I said, “To write a book about my trip to Australia.”

“Then, that’s what you have to do,” she answered.

Initially, I fought myself to keep from doing it. Over three months of not trying to write, I became increasingly angry at myself.

I work out every day. It’s how I cope with my depression. Even though I never feel like doing it, I never question it. I just do it. When I’m done, I always feel better.

I decided to try this approach to writing.

The first day after working out I sat down at my desk and looked at the clock. It was eleven a.m. I could not get up until one. I would not question or ponder or judge. I would put my fingers on the keyboard and tap one key after another. I looked at the blank computer screen, terrified. I decided I needed a muse. I pictured my husband and began typing my story to him. When I looked up it was one o’clock. I had more than done it.

So it went, day after day after day. Anything that came into my head I tapped out. I didn’t dare censor anything that seemed even remotely relevant.  I was afraid that if I contemplated not writing one scenario or anecdote, I would soon be going down the dark road to total writer’s block. I wrote and wrote. My first draft was one thousand pages.

During Covid lockdown, an editor was taking forever with one of the drafts of the manuscript. A friend kept insisting that I write about an aggressive dog I had unwittingly rescued and not had the heart to return to the rescue. I balked, “I have writer’s block.” Then I found fifty pages I had written fifteen years earlier when he died. I soon had a beginning, middle and end.

The dog story seemed more straightforward than the Australia story. I decided to try to get that one out into the world and then go back and work on Australia. Which is exactly what I did. Mattie, Milo, and Me A Memoir, was published by She Writes Press in 2024. High Hope: A Memoir, also published by She Writes Press, was released September 23, 2025, Bruce Springsteen’s 76^th birthday. It is now four hundred pages!

 

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Anne Abel is an author, storyteller, and influencer. Her first memoir, Mattie, Milo, and Me (2024) was inspired by her Moth StorySLAM win in New York City. She holds an MFA from the New School for Social Research, an MBA from the University of Chicago, and a BS in chemical engineering from Tufts. She has freelanced for multiple outlets and was featured in Newsweek’s, “Boomer’s Story About How She Met Her Husband of 45 Years Captivates Internet.”  Her new book, inspired by her Moth StorySLAM win in Chicago, is High Hopes: A Memoir. She lives in New York City with her husband, Andy, and their cavapoo puppy, Wendell. Find her on  https://anneabelauthor.com/, and on Facebook, Instagram, and Tik Tok @annesimaabel.

HIGH HOPES

Fans of Cheryl Strayed’s Wild will root for Anne Abel as she intrepidly sets out alone for Australia at the age of sixty, seeking to capture some Bruce Springsteen energy and fight off her lifelong, debilitating depression.

At the age of fifty-nine, Anne has never been to a concert. Then, as a way to spend time with her son and daughter-in-law, she reluctantly goes with them to local arena to see Bruce Springsteen—a man she knows nothing about. For three-plus hours, Bruce Springsteen’s energy, humanity, and enthusiasm lift Anne and make her feel like she has a chance. For three-plus hours, she feels alive.

A year later, after having one desk too many thrown at her, Anne quits her community college teaching job . . . and then she panics. She suffers from severe recurrent depression, and she is terrified that without the structure and focus of teaching, she will be at risk for falling into a deep depression. Having been inpatient twice at a psychiatric hospital, undergone three regimens of electroconvulsive shock therapy, and tried over twenty medications, she knows she needs a new and different plan. Then she remembers how hopeful and alive she feels at Bruce Springsteen’s concerts and that he will be touring in Australia in four months. So, even though she hates to travel, hates to be alone, and didn’t even know what a Bruce Springsteen was a year ago, Anne books the trip. Eight concerts, five cities, twenty-six days. She hopes that harnessing some of Bruce Springsteen’s energy will keep her out of the abyss.

Anne doesn’t go on this trip to change. But change she does.

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Tags: featured, women writers

Category: On Writing