Bound by Words And Much More

True to the no-rules rule, some children stray far from memoir into fiction. Boys, especially, tend to write about monsters or animals rather than reveal their thoughts, Sacco said, although Craig often writes about his father.

It is the parents who are the most enthusiastic memoirists. "I've seen them get even more excited [than the children] about their writing and taking time to think about the writing and developing a voice," Sacco said. "The parents are telling me they've always wanted to write, and it's a great outlet for them, something they didn't give themselves permission to do."

Some of their pieces are lighthearted. The quick takes on suburban life by Mike Rollin, a trade analyst for the U.S. Commerce Department, have titles such as "Laundry as Art" and "Ode to the Plumber."

Others dive to greater emotional depths. Mike Brock, a self-described "computer geek" by day, writes so his sons will know something about his life before they were born.

Brock has written about the first time he went fishing and about how afraid of the dark he was when he delivered papers as a boy in rural Rohnert Park, Calif.

"When you're rich and famous, you have people who kind of become chroniclers of your own history," he said. "But for the average Joe, there's really no one who's the chronicler."

Brock said it is especially important to share his childhood fears and anxieties with his sons, who have osteogenesis imperfecta, or brittle bone disease, and must limit their physical activities.

"A lot of the time, kids' image of their parents is that they're bulletproof. They'll live forever. They're the fastest, the strongest," he said. "I want to show that having fear and self-doubt, that's okay . . . to let [his son Miles] know that the journey that he's taking is not a solitary one."

On a recent Monday night, after coming up with "seed" ideas, parents and children scattered -- a boy curled up in the corner; a mom sank her elbows into a giant stuffed bear -- and got to writing.

Brock's son Miles Crank-Brock, a slight, bespectacled 11-year-old, approached Sacco for a consultation. In the past, he had written about Megorlon, the "ancient bug-like cyborg" that disrupts his family vacation to Japan. Today, his work combined his admiration for a song by the rock group Green Day and his disdain for the group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. But he spoke with such rapid-fire excitement that Sacco interrupted.

"Okay, now just think about just quieting your mind," she said. "Now think about just lying in your bed and listening to the song. You don't have to even answer, just think about what comes to mind."

Miles returned to his corner, and Sacco switched her attention to Rollin's wife, Miriam, 45, who was writing about her experience snorkeling in Hawaii. A few seats away, her 9-year-old daughter Sammi composed poems about dolphins and homework, and Mike Rollin, still in his work suit and tie, scribbled a stream-of-consciousness riff on slang words.

Grinning at his finished piece ("So off to the gym to get 'ripped' -- sounds too painful for me."), Mike Rollin explained the class's appeal.

"I do a lot of technical writing at work, but it's kind of fun to do something that's kind of offbeat," he said. "At home, you don't often have the time to escape."

Sacco, who is also a writer, likes to listen to older people share their stories. She had done similar work with her two daughters, who are 14 and 10. The three would go to a museum, split up and write, then reconvene and discuss their writings over tea.

Finding it a good way to connect with them, she decided to try the same approach with parent-child teams, including with her daughter Sophie Frank, who attends the class. "I just got a feeling like this was a good thing to do," Sacco said. She has also led an after-school writing workshop for boys, which, as with this class, she taught for no pay.

Miles says his father's writing has opened his eyes -- although not necessarily in the ways his father expected.

"He's never actually told me much about his past, so for me it's kind of a way to figure things out," he said. "Like how $5 would get you two big toys and one big expensive thing. It makes me wonder. Why does the economy now [make it] that $12 gets you a cheap brush that breaks?"