Are you willing to share your story? “Convinced that this period in history would be judged one day, I knew that I must bear witness.”

We need stories about integrity, and courage, and perseverance, and about doing the right thing.

We need upright people who will speak truth to power, who will be a voice for those who have no voice, an advocate for the abused, neglected, and the downtrodden.

We need people who take seriously what we call the Golden Rule: Jesus’ words about doing unto others as we would have them do unto us—or as it says in the Living Bible: “Treat others as we would want them to treat us” (Luke 6:31, Matthew 7:12). In other words, “Think of the kindness you wish others would show you; do the same for them” (The Voice).

Imagine what it would be like for you

to be mistreated by those in power,

or for your voice to be silenced or ignored,

imagine what it’s like to be abused, overlooked,

disregarded, oppressed, and beaten down—

wouldn’t you want people to speak up?

We need stories written by people who are thinkers and questioners,

by people willing to look at issues from various angles,

people willing to step forward and take a stand,

willing to expose evil and injustice,

willing to be leaders and role models for so many of us

who are cowards—or at least foot-draggers.

Recently I read Jewish Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel’s memoir, Night.

You’ve no doubt heard about—and perhaps read—some of his books, but he says in the preface that “ . . . all my writings after Night . . . profoundly bear its stamp, and cannot be understood if one has not read this very first of my works.” If you haven’t read his memoir, I encourage you to do so.

Elie Wiesel shows us what it looks like to put into practice this quote from his Nobel Lecture, December 11, 1986, below:

Maybe God is calling you to follow Elie Wiesel’s lead by writing your memoir.

Perhaps you can recognize yourself in what Wiesel wrote in his preface, “Convinced that this period in history would be judged one day, I knew that I must bear witness.”

Yet he also knew his “testimony would not be received. After all, it deals with an event that sprang from the darkest zone of man. . . .

“But would they at least understand?

“Could men and women who consider it normal to assist the weak,

heal the sick, to protect small children,

and to respect the wisdom of their elders

understand what happened there?

“Would they be able to comprehend how . . .

the masters tortured the weak

and massacred the children, the sick, the old?”

“And yet, having lived through this experience, one could not keep silent no matter how difficult, if not impossible, it was to speak.

“And so I persevered. . . .” (from the Preface to the New Translation [of Night])

Persevering is hard work. It can be discouraging work. Sometimes dangerous work. Often emotionally exhausting work.

Pastor Brian, my son-in-law, recently said, “Choosing to live and act with faith is hard. Will we trust God?”

That’s the hard part:

Will you trust God to help you

say what others need to hear?

Ask Him to help you speak not judgmentally,

but with grace and mercy.

Ask Him to help you speak with wisdom instead of foolishness,

with love instead of hate,

with truth instead of distortions,

with a cool head instead of a hot head,

with winsome words instead of fiery words—

words that build up instead of tear down,

that heal instead of injure.

Words that shine light in the darkness.

In what specific ways will you trust God

to help you write what others need to read?

Learn from a Holocaust survivor: Describe your memoir’s characters by going beyond physical details

Reading time: 2 minutes, 12 seconds

Last Thursday we looked at developing your memoir’s key characters by writing about their physical attributes. One way is to include sensory details: Describe what a character sounded like, smelled like, looked, felt, and maybe even tasted like. (If you missed last Thursday’s post, click on Are your memoir’s main characters real enough?)

But there’s more! You need to let readers know enough to get acquainted with a character, enough to grasp what’s most important about him or her, enough to know what’s inside.

So, today we’ll look at developing a multi-dimensional person by going beyond a physical, sensory description:

• What was endearing about her?
• What was annoying about him?
• What was comical, scary, heroic?
• What did she obsess over? And was that a good or bad obsession?
• What did other people say or think about that person?
• What moral character did he display?
• What courage, what integrity did she demonstrate?
• What passion, what commitment did he possess?

Peel back layers:

Readers need to know what was happening

beyond the sensory details.

What was happening

between the lines in your character’s life?

What was going on inside?

What were that person’s thoughts?

What do readers need to know about the character’s history,

beliefs, goals, faith, fears, experiences, successes,

quirks, failures, dreams, or values?

And don’t forget about heartaches.

Here’s an example—gripping, unforgettable—from Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel’s memoir, Night. Note how he includes sensory details, but so much more:

Heavy snow continued to fall over the corpses. 

The door of the shed opened. An old man appeared. His moustache was covered with ice, his lips were blue. It was Rabbi Eliahu who had headed a small congregation in Poland. A very kind man, beloved by everyone in the camp, even by the Kapos and the Blockälteste. Despite the ordeals and deprivations, his face continued to radiate his innocence. He was the only rabbi whom nobody ever failed to address as “Rabbi” in Buna. He looked like one of those prophets of old, always in the midst of his people when they needed to be consoled. And, strangely, his words never provoked anyone. They did bring peace. 

As he entered the shed, his eyes, brighter than ever, seemed to be searching for someone.

“Perhaps someone here has seen my son?”

He had lost his son in the commotion. He had searched for him among the dying, to no avail. Then he had dug through the snow to find his body. In vain.

For three years, they had stayed close to one another. Side by side, they had endured the suffering, the blows; they had waited for their ration of bread and they had prayed. Three years, from camp to camp, from selection to selection. And now—when the end seemed near—fate had separated them.

When he came near me, Rabbi Eliahu whispered, “It happened on the road. We lost sight of one another during the journey. I fell behind a little at the rear of the column. I didn’t have the strength to run anymore. And my son didn’t notice. That’s all I know. Where has he disappeared? Where can I find him? Perhaps you’ve seen him somewhere?”

“No, Rabbi Eliahu, I haven’t seen him.” (from Elie Wiesel’s memoir, Night) (Read our recent post about Elie Wiesel by clicking on There must never be a time when we fail to protest.)

I don’t know about you, but that description sent the Rabbi straight to my heart. I’ll never forget that passage.

Look over your manuscript and examine

the way you’ve developed your main characters.

What can you do to make them multi-dimensional?

Find words to make them into real beings.

“There must never be a time when we fail to protest.”

Reading time: 1 minute, 40 seconds

“We need inspirational stories,” Pastor Brian said a few weeks ago.

I say, “Amen to that!”

We need stories about integrity, and courage, and perseverance, and about doing the right thing rather than surrendering to peer pressure.

We need stories written by thinkers and questioners,

by people willing to look at issues from various angles,

people willing to step forward and take a stand,

willing to expose evil and injustice,

willing to be leaders and role models for so many of us

who are cowards—or at least foot-draggers.

“But,” Pastor Brian continued, “choosing to live and act with faith is hard. Will we trust God?”

That’s the hard part: Will we trust God to help us step up and say what others need to hear?

Recently I read Jewish Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel’s memoir, Night.

You’ve no doubt heard about—and perhaps read—some of his books, but he says in the preface that “ . . . all my writings after Night . . . profoundly bear its stamp, and cannot be understood if one has not read this very first of my works.” If you haven’t read his memoir, I encourage you to do so.

Elie Wiesel shows us what it looks like to put into practice this quote from his Nobel Lecture, December 11, 1986, below:

Maybe God is calling you to follow Elie Wiesel’s lead by writing your memoir.

Perhaps you can recognize yourself in what Wiesel wrote in his memoir's preface, “Convinced that this period in history would be judged one day, I knew that I must bear witness.”

Yet he also knew his “testimony would not be received. After all, it deals with an event that sprang from the darkest zone of man. . . .

“But would they at least understand?

“Could men and women who consider it normal to assist the weak, heal the sick, to protect small children, and to respect the wisdom of their elders understand what happened there? Would they be able to comprehend how . . . the masters tortured the weak and massacred the children, the sick, the old?

“And yet, having lived through this experience, one could not keep silent no matter how difficult, if not impossible, it was to speak.

“And so I persevered. . . .” (from the Preface to the New Translation [of Night])

Persevering is hard work. It can be discouraging work. Sometimes dangerous work. Often emotionally exhausting work.

“Choosing to live and act with faith is hard,” 

Pastor Brian said. “Will we trust God?”

In what ways will you trust God 

to help you say what others need to hear?

In what ways will you trust God 

to help you write what others need to read?