What can your memoir teach about looking fear in the face?

“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face,” said Eleanor Roosevelt. “You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.”

 

Think back. When did you look fear in the face? What can your memoir teach your kids, grandkids, and other readers about doing that thing you thought you could not do?

 

Read the quotes below, slowly, and pause as long as it takes to rediscover personal stories they bring to mind, incidents you might have forgotten long ago.

 

 

The jump is so frightening between where I am and where I want to be…

Because of all I may become

I will

Close my eyes

And leap!

By Mary Anne Radmacher

 

“And the day came 

when the risk to remain tight in a bud 

was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” 

Anaïs Nin

 

“You can’t test courage cautiously.” 

Annie Dillard

 

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” Nelson Mandela

 

“Courage is contagious. When a brave young man takes a stand, the spines of others are stiffened.” Billy Graham

 

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” Anaïs Nin

 

 

What stories do these quotes bring to mind?

 

What courageous thing have you done? Perhaps when you triumphed over fear, others watched. Or maybe you looked fear in the face and took action even though no one else ever knew about your bravery. Was Anaïs Nin right? Did your life expand in proportion to your courage?

 

On the other hand, perhaps these quotes reminded you of a time you refused to do the courageous thing, when you remained tight in a bud and chose not to blossom. Was Anaïs Nin right? Did your life shrink in proportion to your lack of courage?

 

When did you experience, as Billy Graham observed, that courage is contagious? When did you find courage to take action because you watched someone else take a stand?

 

Looking back now, whether you chose the courageous route or not:

 

• What did you learn from your choice?
• How did your experience change you?
• Did you do things differently in the future?
• How did God help you? As a result, in what ways did your relationship with Him change?
• What Bible verses pertain to your story?
• What valuable lessons can you pass on to others?

 

Write your stories.

Why?

Because your children, grandchildren, and other readers

will face situations in which their courage and faith are wobbly.

Your story could make all the difference in their outcomes.

 

Your memoir’s value to readers: Recognizing their story in yours

Our “stories all overlap and mingle like searchlights in the dark. . . .” writes Frederick Buechner. “My story and your story are all part of each other. . . . All our stories are in the end one story, one vast story about being human, being together, being here.”

And he asks what every memoirist must ask: “Does [my] story point beyond itself? Does it mean something?” (The Clown in the Belfry)

The memoirist must be able to answer “Yes.”

You see, it’s tempting to think a memoir is all about you but, at some point in your writing, take a high, wide look from above. For your readers’sake, identify your story’s universal principles, truths, struggles, quests, and values.

Why? Because when your experience exemplifies universals, readers recognize their story in yours. 

A good memoir “always connects the reader's heart with a deeper truth,” writes Jeff Goins. “Memoir is about something that is bigger than you. It's about a part of life we can all connect to.”

Human lives overlap. We all hover within universal human emotions, conditions, and happenings. We all experience joys and sorrows, triumphs and failures, courage and cowardice. We all have chosen wisely as well as foolishly. We are proud of certain moments and ashamed of others. 

Readers, like all of us, feel alone in their wobbly efforts, false starts, dead ends, and meandering lives. One reader might think she's the only one longing to find love or acceptance or success. For another reader, personal transformation hurts and it’s easy for a man to assume he's along in worrying through times of change. Another reader might be struggling to overcome fear.

When readers pick up your memoir, whether they realize it or not they want to see where their lives intersect with yours. They want to relate to you. Within your story, readers can discover they aren't alone: They’ll recognize themselves in your story when you write about issues that concern them, when your story is about more than you. They want to learn from you and apply what you learned to their own lives. Your job, then, is to look for ways your story resonates with all of us.

This is an example of what I mean: “During my intense grieving moments, other people’s stories gave me words to describe the ache that was indescribable. They gave me hope that a new day would dawn, and I would not be stuck in the black forever.” (Dana Goodman, author, In the Cleft: Joy Comes in the Mourning)

In that way, memoirists have the privilege of being what Anaïs Nin calls “the guides and mapmakers.”

Within your story, look for universal principles and truths about honor, tenacity, valor, generosity, kindness, commitment, self-discipline, sympathy, integrity—the list could go on and on.

Stories need takeaways, gifts you offer readers, those “A-ha” moments when the lights come on, when they identify and apply your life’s lessons to their own lives.

Your memoir’s universal appeal and takeaways

can spark defining moments in your readers—

inspiring them to take action, opening for them new opportunities—

and leaving them changed for the better.

As a memoirist, you have the privilege of lighting their way.