Go to Google, type in “how to write a memoir,” and you’ll find over 120 million results. It’s no secret that writing a deeply moving life story is something thousands of people want to learn how to do. And lucky for them, there’s nothing short of a plethora of resources to help.
In fact, that’s what I love about Google. Living in today’s “information age” means it takes us less than two seconds to find truckloads of information on any given topic, and memoir writing is no exception to this.
You’ll find articles on outlining, structuring, storytelling, writer’s block, theme, character development, and oodles more. But, if I may be so bold, I believe that most articles on memoir writing will zoom right past the most basic—but oh-so-vital—piece of advice.
Write.
That’s right. Just write. Wriiiiite. WRITE. Writewritewrite.
Or, as author Brian Clark says:
“Write. Write even more. Write even more than that. Write when you don’t want to. Write when you do. Write when you have something to say. Write when you don’t. Write every day.”
It doesn’t matter how you say it, the message is clear. To write a memoir, you must write a memoir!
If you ask me (and since you’re here, I’ll assume you just did), this is the “right way” to write a memoir. And, just so we’re clear, all the other elements of memoir writing are just as important, but if you’re focused too much on learning the technical nuances of the craft, you may be missing something simple but nonetheless profound. My hope is that this post will help you slow down, breathe in these words, and see the magic in this process.
Danielle, isn’t this all just a bit ridiculous? I know how to write. I mean, that’s what I’ve been doing!!
Okay, I hear you. You got this writing thing in the bag. But humor me for a hot minute.
If we were to build out Mr. Clark’s sage advice as a helpful guideline or writing tool, it might look something like this:
1. Write. And set yourself a goal while you’re at it. Do whatever feels good for you—a daily, weekly, or monthly word count goal; one chapter a month; five minutes a day; two paragraphs on your lunch break. It doesn’t matter what it is, just set a goal and track it.
2. Write more. When you sit down to write, aim to hit your goal and then go past it by an inch. The extra progress will feel like the cherry on top (and who doesn’t like a treat?!).
3. Write when you don’t want to. It’s important to be in the right headspace when you write, but it’s okay if you’re not exactly feeling it. Sit down to write anyway. Eek out what you can, and call it a victory.
4. Write when you do want to. When the words are flowing, let them flow. Forget about the time, the emails pouring in, the kids looking for you, the boiling pot on the stove, the word count, the chapter breaks, the typos. Just write.
5. Write when you have something to say. Pay attention to the work that your mind is doing in the background throughout the day. Watch for bits of inspiration or insights to flitter into your conscious thoughts, and capture them to revisit later.
6. Write when you don’t have something to say. Feeling “blocked” happens. You may not know exactly what to say all the time. That’s okay. Just write anything, even if you’re writing about how blocked you are. Writing is the force behind breaking down the dam; it will happen, as long as you push through it.
7. Write every day. Need I say more?
There, doesn’t that feel so much better? Do you see the value in this advice? Does it feel possible to apply this to your writing life?
In the end, the lesson here is to just write. Get the words out. When you feel stuck on a passage, move to something else and keep writing. When you feel like you’ve dug deep enough, dig deeper and write some more.
And just so you know, you’ll never hear me say that this is *all* you ever need to do in order to finish your memoir. But the more you write, the better. Especially if you plan to work with a developmental editor at any point in the process.
I tell my group members and clients that the more they write, the more I have to review and give feedback on. I don’t know what I don’t know, so my perspective of your book is limited to what you write. This means that even if you know some of what you write will never make it in the book, just write it down anyway. Even if you know your writing is just plum full of errors or extraneous fluff, keep it in for now.
Write against perfection. Write despite a structure that feels off. Write in the face of doubts swimming in your head.
Just write.
Hard to wiggle your way out of this one, isn’t it?
Creatively yours,
