Which Stories Belong in Your Memoir?
The Ones that Mean Something
It’s common wisdom that people with great stories should write a book. Maybe people have encouraged you to write your stories down. Although well-meaning (and flattering), this advice gets memoir writers into trouble, because it implies that life stories can stand on their own as a book. Sadly, this is just not true.
The stories in your memoir must serve a larger story about you—how you changed, who you became, or what you finally achieved. Like any book, a memoir needs a through-line—an argument, theme, or message—that pulls readers along.
When you set out to make a point, it automatically raises the stakes of your writing, and readers sense that. Readers know when you’ve got something important to say and when you’ve just assembled a bunch of stories. As you might guess, the former is far more interesting.
When I edit memoir manuscripts, I often find stories about the authors’ friends and acquaintances, or fantastic tales in which the author played only a minor role. While sometimes entertaining, these stories detract from the principal theme of the manuscript and can frustrate readers.
People read memoirs to learn about themselves through the experiences of someone else. Including stories that didn’t shape you or inform your life’s journey makes for a dissatisfying read.
But what if all you have are stories, and you don’t know what they mean? This is a fine starting point. First, write about your most memorable milestones and powerful memories. The act of writing itself can clarify turning points, highlight recurring themes, and reveal patterns that you never knew existed.
If a through-line hasn’t snuck up on you by the time you’re done writing, leave your stories for a few weeks and then come back to them with fresh eyes. If you’re still stuck, talk about it with family and friends; sometimes we’re too close to our lives to see the bigger picture.
Maybe you never had any confidence until you failed spectacularly and picked yourself up, or you had to let go of your childhood to find happiness as an adult. Once you’ve figured out your central idea, curate your stories. Choose the ones that support your idea and save the rest for your next book.
As you pick stories for your manuscript, ask yourself these questions about each one:
- Did this happen to me or have a meaningful impact on me?
- Does it show someone’s character in a way that moves my story forward?
- Does it illustrate my through-line?
If you can answer “yes” to one of these three, it’s worth keeping. When in doubt, ask yourself: Will my memoir make sense without it? If the answer is “yes,” leave it out. Being the main character in your own story sometimes makes these judgments tricky. If you’re struggling to figure out what to keep and what to cut, a good editor can be invaluable.
Part of writing a memoir is letting go of the idea that one book can fully encapsulate your life. Your memoir will be only a part of your legacy. You will have to keep telling stories at dinner parties and family reunions, making scrapbooks and photo albums, and cracking corny jokes with your grandkids. You will be remembered for all of it.