Your memoir: Lighthearted or heavy?

I’ve mentioned before that memoirs can be about happy experiences, good people, and victories. They can be lighthearted, even humorous.

Yet many memoirists write stories about suffering, trauma, setback, or failure.

The genre of memoir lends itself to stories of hardship because we write about: 

• moving from one stage of our lives into a better one,
• learning from our experiences—about ourselves, others, and God,
• and becoming new and improved persons as a result of our experiences.

Those aspects of memoir, when we think of writing one ourselves, often trigger memories of difficult circumstances we’ve fought through and overcome.

But memoirs don’t have to be about battles fought and won. They can be about happier occasions, too.

Perhaps Marion Roach Smith’s updated definition of memoir will set us free to write of pleasanter experiences.

She says, 

“Memoir is about something you know 

after something you’ve been through.”

For example, she tells about her love of gardening: “. . . what I really know from thirty years in the garden is that peace can be found in my own back yard.”

So, our job as memoirists is to tell readers what we learned—how we transitioned from our old selves into our new selves.

Too many people live on the busy, trifling surface, decade after decade—which is a sad way to live. That’s probably what Chuck Swindoll had in mind when he wrote, “Some of God’s best truths, like priceless treasures, are hidden in depths most folks never take time to search out.”

That’s why writing a memoir requires us to search out those hidden treasures—to intentionally reflect, to ponder, examine, piece together events and relationships, connect the dots and discover what was really going on, to grasp the deeper, wider, higher picture. (Click here to review what the definition of memoir is.)

With that in mind, here are ideas for less-than-traumatic memoirs.

What did you learn, what do you now know, after: 

• taking a cruise to Alaska
• playing sports
• spending a summer on your uncle’s ranch
• taking care of pets
• going on a short-term mission trip
• babysitting
• being a parent
• working on a summer camp’s staff
• living in the desert—or rainforest
• working as a driver’s ed instructor
• blogging
• belonging to your high school Girls’ Club
• volunteering at a nursing home
• reuniting with your first love.

What did you learn from: 

• your best friend
• your parent
• a grandparent
• your children
• your grandchildren
• your favorite professor
• an immigrant
• a first responder
• a handicapped person
• a Bible study
• your first paying job
• a road trip
• learning how to cook
• learning how to make house repairs
• your favorite songs.

And here at SM 101, we also seek to discover what God was doing in the midst of our experiences. We might not have noticed His involvement at the time, but in making time to look back, we realize He was doing what He promised in the Bible, teaching us truths we need to understand, strengthening our faith, and more—all kinds of special, loving things.

Your story could be about something that happened suddenly, or about something that slowly, quietly crept into your heart and changed your attitude, or gave you hope, made you laugh, strengthened your faith, or gave you peace.

Think about an Aha moment 

when you discovered something lovely 

or insightful or helpful. 

A realization that filled you with wonder. 

A mystery you solved, 

or a discovery that delighted you, 

a discovery that, if you shared it, 

would add joy to other people’s lives. 

Your story is important.

It could turn a person’s life in a new direction.

God can use your story.

Someone needs to hear it.