Deb Brandon: Living in Radiant Color

Guided by the Fugawi

Sometimes a title for a book or essay smacks you in the face as you write it, or shortly after you complete it. But more often than not, you agonize over it for days, weeks, months, sometimes more.
I was writing a piece about how and why I started writing my memoir about recovery from brain injury: “But My Brain Had Other Ideas: A Memoir of Recovery from Brain Injury.”
Coming out of my third brain surgery, I was lost—nothing made sense. About to take my first step on a journey to recovery, I had no idea which way to go. I was an alien in a strange land, without a map or compass.
flickr--Ronni Macdolnald flickr–Ronni Macdolnald
I searched high and low, through books and on the internet. I found plenty about brain injury, from crisis to short term recovery. Most were written by caregivers or medical professionals. Only a few mentioned long-term recovery, and that only in passing. I needed a guide from an insider, a survivor, for the years to come.
I decided to create my own compass—I decided to write a memoir.
And that’s what the piece was about—how I came to write my book.
My writing title for the piece was “Compass,” but it wouldn’t do for a final title. It was too… too boring? It just didn’t work. A friend suggested “Maps and Compasses,” which I didn’t like. But it did suggest a whole slew of other ideas, such as “Cartography 101,” “Navigating Without a Compass,” and “Mapping Without Landmarks.” But they all felt wrong.
At that point, my thoughts veered off path. Perhaps a pun: “Misguided.”
Finally, losing patience with myself, it came to me, “Guided by the Fugawi.”
I knew it wouldn’t work for the piece I’d written, but it was too good to waste.
So here it is.
Note: I case you’re curious about the name Fugawi, check out