I tell stories you’re not supposed to hear.

“Be prepared to read this book, feel completely satisfied, and go back to read it again.”
Kim Dana Kupperman, series editor, The Best American Essays

“(A) promethean debut of excoriating empathy…”
Wes Jamison, author of My Corpse Inside

“Doc McLemore writes fiercely and compassionately with a promise that the only way out of darkness is to chase the truth.”
Jon Corcoran, author of No Son of Mine

In Someday We Won't Remember This, Doc McLemore crafts an investigation into their father, a man hurled screaming from the South only to wander toward a half-life in Oregon. Collecting shreds of information—medical records, court documents, interviews, journal entries, personal recollections, and photographs—McLemore collages together each version of the story they thought they knew. What results is a decoupage of illness, poverty, and moments of humor, despite everything: McLemore serenades a cowboy who sits on horseback in his underwear as the inebriated Don threatens McLemore's husband-to-be, John, with a knife and then gifts the weapon to John as an act of reconciliation. After not speaking for years, McLemore and their half-sibling, drunk and stoned, get the same corny tattoo their father bears on his chest to sidestep acknowledging shared trauma.

McLemore portrays a father whose love and violence live in equal measure, while unpacking their own marriage, trans identity, and struggle with addiction. Someday We Won't Remember This ultimately dares to ask: Between family secrets, missing links, and corrupted memories, how can a child become a whole person?