How to Get Started in Writing Memoir

While many people write about their life experiences, others hesitate, thinking the task too overwhelming. But that’s the beauty of memoir. You don’t have to cover your entire life.

In my memoir workshops, I ask participants to write down these questions:

1. What one experience in my life am I dying to write about?

2. What one thing about myself do I not want anyone to know?

Then I ask them to answer the second question first. That’s probably the story that needs to be told. After fully answering question two, the writer may decide to trash the pages. But the process of transferring those thoughts to the page should benefit the writer. If he/she keeps those pages in the memoir, readers will likely empathize. Most of us like to read about the insecurities, difficulties, and frustrations of others and how they overcame obstacles. The more intimate a topic, the closer is the connection between reader and writer.

Many beginning memoirists say, “I’m just writing about my life for my family.” That’s fantastic. Everyone should do that. I began with the same plan, thinking no one but my children or grandchildren would want to hear about my uneventful childhood. But fellow critique pod members tell me that my early life was anything but ordinary. For some reason they think ordinary is growing up with a radio, a telephone, and indoor plumbing.

It takes about ten years of writing every day to learn how to write, so experts say. I’m the exception. I’m still learning, after fifteen years of stitching stories together.

We memoirists have a big advantage over fiction writers, though. Memoir requires little research. We know the main character inside and out. As Jerry Waxler points out, “fiction writers must employ external description and action to show what is going on in the main character’s mind.”

On the other hand, fiction writers have a huge advantage over memoirists. They can make stuff up! The Oprah vs. James Frey fiasco made us acutely aware of the danger of fabrication in memoir. That is not to say, however, that we cannot be creative. Our goal should be to get at the truth. There’s a world of difference between being creative in order to reveal the story, and telling an outright lie to sensationalize.

Linda Joy Meyers, author of Don’t Call Me Mother: A Daughter’s Journey from Abandonment to Forgiveness, states that a memoir must have shape, drama, and a story arc—like fiction. But if we must change the plot of our lives in order to make the story fit a model, we should call it fiction.

Good writers of all genres adhere to a few general guidelines: show, don’t tell; write dialog the way people talk; omit unnecessary words; and begin with a hook. Even a family member might stop reading if the first sentence of your memoir reads, “I was born in Evanston, Illinois, on November 1, 1962, the first child of Franklin and Eleanor Baird Rockwell.” I struggled with the beginning of my first book, which focused on the hardscrabble lives of my parents, before deciding on the words spoken by my dad about his family situation: “Daddy was sick in bed after collapsing in the field while breaking corn. I was seven years old and Mama was expecting her seventh baby.”

Of the dozens of books available on memoir writing, two helped me the most: Writing Your Life History: A Journey of Self-Discovery by Hilda K. Ross, PhD (available at the Alachua County Library), and Your Life as Story, by Tristine Rainer. The books address questions I often hear, such as . . .

I don’t know what part of my life I want to write about, so how should I begin?

Do not begin with your birth because you don’t remember it. Begin with an incident that remains vivid, as if it happened yesterday. Then write about another experience that shaped you in some way. Keep writing vignettes, one after the other until you identify the thread that will run throughout your book.

Can others sue me for telling unflattering tales on them?

You bet they can. Do not write to retaliate. When you mention names in your work, do it for the purpose of telling your own story. If you suspect that individuals might be bothered by what you’ve written, share the details with them before publication. Otherwise, craft your book as fiction.

How do I include dialogue when I don’t remember what people said?

Dialogue should be your best recollection of conversations. Do not worry about writing verbatim. Check out the May-June 2015 issue of the WAG Digest for excellent details on this topic.

What if others remember events differently?

Keep in mind that they can write their own versions. Write YOUR story. Write the first draft for your eyes only. Don’t censor. Don’t edit. Keep in mind the words of Anne Lamont, author of Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life: “. . . the only way I can get anything written at all is to write really, really shitty first drafts.” Let your drafts sit for a few days or weeks before revising. Then, seek feedback, but do not depend on family members or friends. Utilize outside sources such as the writing group that meets at the Millhopper Library on the first Thursday of each month, or the Poets and Writers group that meets at the Books-a-Million on NW 13th Street every Tuesday night. And take advantage of WAG’s memoir critique pods (meeting times vary).

Listen carefully to the feedback you receive. If several reviewers point to a particular problem, take notice, especially if you seek a broader market for your work. And if you started out “writing just for family” and several reviewers tell you to consider a broader market, go for it!