A Memoirist's Bill of Rights

​A few years ago, I stopped sharing stories with some of my family members. Although they were well-intentioned, a couple people in my life insisted on critiquing my memory of stories from childhood. Instead of listening to the story and appreciating what I remember, they instead dedicated their energy to listing off the 547 reasons that my memory stinks because I remember my step-dad’s truck as white instead of red.

After being interrupted and criticized on several occasions, I gave up trying. Why would anyone want to share their memories with people who lack interest and curiosity? No writer wants to sit in that corner.

Writing memoir pieces, whether they are individual pieces or collective pieces, is deeply challenging work for any writer. The reflective aspect of memoir writing requires an inner strength to identify memories worth preserving, self-evaluate events for their value, and compose those events into a logical format that others can relate to. 

Yet, any memoirist faces the criticism from multiple directions. Many writers, in any genre, maintain considerations of how their work will be received while holding a barrier around their work to protect it from exterior criticism. The balance is a challenge.  
​

---

​Some memoirists need distance from the other people involved in their lives in order to capture their authentic memories from their own viewpoint. Getting enough mental space is one step; accepting that not everyone will agree with one version of the truth is another. 

What memoirists need is a code of affirmation to lean on during the days when Aunt Maisie lists the 42 ways you got your facts mixed up, because obviously, her memory is far superior to everyone else’s recollections.

Memoirists need a bill of rights—a list of certain truths that support the intense work that memoir writing requires. We need a solid, certain guarantee that no matter how many nails are bitten away during the hours spent entrusting personal recollections to paper, that the story will hold true. We need a bill of rights, because writing about our lives is gut-wrenching work that requires us to muster bravery by the bucketful.  
​

On-Demand Instruction Presents: A Memoirist's Bill of Rights

1. Your stories are valid and valuable. 
​

​Look at today’s memoirs. What would have happened if the man, abused as a child, decided that his years of torture at his parents’ hands had no merit in the literary world so he never bothered to write it? What if the Civil Rights leaders from the 60s abandoned their memories in the dust and left the rest of us to guess how they felt standing against an impossibly powerful opponent? What if the women of math and science chose to leave the past behind by pretending they were secretaries and not experts? Every person has amazingly interesting stories to share. No matter if a life was spent on the battlefield, in the wheat fields, or having a field day: Our stories matter. 
​

​2. People want to read your personal stories. 
​

​The first thought that many memoirists grapple with is: What will happen when people read my story?  People’s past emotions of shame, guilt, and blame burst to the surface. Sometimes, writers worry how readers will react to a story or how a story may be taken by an unbiased public. As writers, we tend to worry more than necessary, because readers overwhelmingly applaud the bravery it takes to document one’s personal stories.  
​

3. Be yourself. People want to read about you.
​

Readers choose to read a memoir, whether a short narrative from a family member or a book-length piece, because they want to delve into the life of someone else. By touching the lives of other people—farmers, politicians, and refugees—we learn more about the human experience. Readers want to read the story of you, the story of hitchhiking in the rain, the story of wrecking a motorcycle in the mountains, and the story of walking away from endless days of punching the clock. 
​

4. Your memories do not need to match anyone else’s memories. 
​

​Just because your sister, father, the next-door neighbor, or some stranger from down the street remembers a story differently means nothing. Your story is your story. Your memory is under no obligation to match anyone else’s recollections of events.   
​

5. If a story is important to you, it will be worthwhile to your readers. 
​

A writer may assume that their personal stories aren’t interesting to other people and that people only want to read about the rich and famous. Not true at all. Readers crave connection and desire getting in touch with the depth and breadth of humanity by reading unique stories. The tales of a farmer overcoming all odds in the age of industrial farming is a story with promise. It contains the possibility for struggle, dedication, family love, and connection to the earth. A memoir is more than a string of events, and therein lies its power: It is about the genuine experiences of people.  
​

6. Writing a memoir should benefit the writer as much as the reader. 
​

​Writing serves many purposes. It is a way to pull the skeletons out of the closet and send them to live elsewhere; writing is a pathway to healing. Writing helps writers organize their thoughts. It helps writers make sense of the world, of the people around them, and of their lives. Writing allows writers to play with ideas and wrestle with the challenges we all face—emotionally, physically, and mentally. When we write memoir, we gain perspective on our own experiences. We learn and grow from the experience of writing memoir. 
​

7. Good writing comes on its own schedule, so write when your stories are ready to be recorded.

Some writing coaches recommend writing every day, 365 days a year. Some recommend writing early in the morning and some late at night. Some recommend using a writer’s notebook to capture the little ideas that burst into your thoughts at the least-convenient times. Some suggest waiting a certain amount of time—up to eight years for painful events—to write. Take the advice that fits. Write when it works for you. Set a schedule and stick to it. If that schedule is once a month and that works for you, then do that. If you set a schedule to write at 4 a.m. every day when the house is quiet because all of the non-writers are still sleeping, then go for it.  Every writer is different, and every writer has the responsibility to find what approach to writing works for them. What works for one writer will not necessarily net results for the next person. When your stories are ready, record them. Generally speaking, the more frequently that a writer engages in the writing process, the more prolific that writer is, but find your flow and go with it.
​

A Memoirist’s Bill of Rights 
​

​Your stories are valid and valuable.

People want to read your personal stories.

Be yourself. People want to read about you.

Your memories do not need to match anyone else’s memories.

If a story is important to you, it will be worthwhile to your readers.

The writing of a memoir should benefit the writer as much the reader.

Good writing comes on its own schedule, so write when your stories are ready to be recorded.
​

Get started writing your memoir with ​Letters to the Future.

Have you thought about writing your personal stories to save for family and friends?

Has the thought of writing your memoir intimidated you?

Letters to the Future: The Simple Guide for Writing Your Memoir is a step-by-step guidebook that can help anyone collect their personal stories for a memoir.

Learn More

Related Blog Posts