Back to Basics: If you’re discouraged, write “one sentence, one paragraph, and one vignette at a time”

If you’re already writing a memoir, you know the process can be mysterious, intimidating, and discouraging.

 

You have must-write stories for your kids, grandkids, and generations yet unborn.

 

You know those stories—

the ones they need to learn from, to cherish.

Stories that will teach them, nurture them,

give them hope, and strengthen their faith.

Stories that will mold them into good people

with intact hearts and minds.

 

But perhaps you’ve put off writing your memoir because it’s hard to find time, or motivation, or courage, or just the right words.

 

If so, I have good news for you:

 

Your stories could be taking shape

even though you might not realize it.

 

Think about this: A seed of your story,

already planted,

has been swelling and sprouting and growing

while you weren’t taking notice.

 

Stories can be like that.

They can live in hidden corners of your heart

where subconsciously (if not consciously)

you’ve already started assembling your memoir: 

• You’ve been collecting—in your mind, or in writing, or on your computer—ideas,  relevant quotes, or Bible verses.
• You’ve run across old photos or newspaper clippings.
• You heard an old song that stirred up memories.
• You ran into a relative or an old friend.
• You discovered a loved one’s obituary tucked away in a file folder.
• You’ve remembered key events that might have seemed unimportant at the time but that now hold significance.

 

All that has been marinating in the back of your mind and it’s starting to come together.

 

Perhaps you’re more ready

to start writing your memoir than you thought.

The time to write might be any day now.

 

Here’s good advice: Tell yourself you’re only writing a rough draft—which is for your eyes only—and then keep writing.

 

“Write with the door closed,” suggested Stephen King. “Your stuff starts out being just for you. . . ” (On Writing).

 

Your initial attempts

don’t need to be perfect.

Everyone starts with a rough draft.

 

“The first draft is the child’s draft,” writes Anne Lamott, “where you let it all pour out and then let it romp all over the place, knowing that no one is going to see it and you can fix it up later. . . ” (Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life).

 

“Small steps are better than no steps,” says Victoria Costello.

 

“Writing memoir might be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. . . . Feeling overwhelmed comes with the territory.

 

“When you feel that sinking feeling, remember that a memoir is simply a string of personal vignettes. Take small steps and focus on finishing one sentence, one paragraph, and one vignette at a time.”

 

Victoria continues: “Worry about threading the story together later.” (The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Memoir)

 

Yes, eventually you will spiff up your rough draft:

You will reorganize, revise, and rewrite.

Every writer does! It’s not punishment.

It’s polishing and shining and clarifying

for the sake of your readers.

 

But for now, don’t worry about all that.

Just take small steps, “one sentence,

one paragraph, and one vignette at a time.”

(Victoria Costello)

  

Back to Basics: Pinpoint the “So what?” of your memoir

 

“. . . Memoirs are much more than memories put to paper,” writes Amber Lea Starfire. “Without reflection, you do not have a memoir—you have a vignette or series of vignettes that describes events, but does not imbue the events with meaning and relevance. Meaning and relevance come from reflection.” 

 

The beauty of your memoir will shine brightest when you discern the greater significance of your experiences.

 

In other words, you’ll need to pinpoint the “So what?” of key happenings—the crises, victories, surprises, and discoveries.

 

Ponder this:

 

Your memoir is about happenings that impacted you: 

you lost your job

—or after overcoming obstacles, 

you landed the job of your dreams;

your house burned down; 

you made the college varsity team;

your child died; 

you survived cancer.

 

But those are on the surface of what happened.

Your story is higher and deeper and wider than that.

 

Promise yourself to avoid simplistic “and they lived happily ever after” fluff.

 

When writing about pivotal events in your life,

 step aside to write segments of reflection to share with readers.

 

Before you can write those parts, though, you must be willing to make time to examine, to decode, to scrutinize. Be willing to rethink, to question your assumptions and conclusions.

 

Probing and questioning and unraveling will help you discover significance you might have missed earlier.

 

Discovering that can be life-changing for you

as well as for your readers.

 

And so, for the benefit of (1) yourself and (2) your readers, take plenty of time to discover the heart and soul and richness of the events in your story.

 

But keep in mind that

you might not know the real significance

until you’ve written your story

and have taken time to mull it over.

The process can take days, months, or even years.

 

For example, when I wrote my second memoir, Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go: A Foot-Dragger’s Memoir, after penning one specific event, I wrote a couple of my observations and lessons about that incident.

 

After writing other sections of my memoir, I came back to that story and, to my surprise, I noticed something I’d overlooked before—a pattern in my life. I discovered additional insights that shed light on my habit of fearing God was untrustworthy.

 

That discovery was a turning point in my life with God.

 

That’s what I meant at the beginning of today’s post: The beauty and value of memoir shine brightest when the author seriously reflects on the relevance of his or her experiences—and shares that with readers.

 

After you’ve written a vignette, pinpoint its “So what?” Peel off layers until you can answer these questions:

• Why was that event so important to me?
• Why does this memory stand out when I’ve forgotten so many others?
• What was going on beneath the surface?
• What patterns did I discover about myself—patterns I hadn’t noticed before?
• How did the experience lead me to change my life?
• How would my values, goals, perspectives, and relationships, be different if the event had not happened?

 

But wait! It gets even better!

 

Recognizing God’s involvement in your life

transforms you and your faith for the future.

 

And God also uses your stories to bless, heal,

teach, and encourage your readers.

 

Looking back now, what did you learn about God? Write about how He was:

• working behind the scenes,
• managing,
• directing,
• choreographing,
• and arranging the details to carry out His best plans for your life.

 

Do you now have a better understanding of His active presence in your life?

 

How did the experience strengthen your faith for future challenges?

 

To what new place did God lead you?

 

How did He shake you up, change your mind, melt your heart, revise your goals, and make a new person of you?

 

So, get out your rough drafts:

• unravel,
• examine,
• untangle,
• pore over,
• analyze,
• sort out,
• discover.

 

You might be asking, “Once I pinpoint my “So what,” how do I write about it?

 

Victoria Costello and I offer you the following tips:

 

“Many memoir writers in workshops I’ve taught,” writes Victoria, “encounter trouble with the reflective voice. . . . If it’s a stumbling block for you, here are some phrases that can help you into a reflective voice:

 

“There must have been. . . . Only later did I realize. . . . There was no way to know then. . . . The way I see it now. . . . It has taken me 10, 20, 30 years to understand that. . . .” (The Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Memoir)

 

Below I’ve listed additional reflective phrases you can use:

 

I couldn’t have put it into words back then, but now. . . .

It would be years before I understood that. . . .

I didn’t understand it at the time, but. . . .

When I remember those events, I. . . .

If only I’d known back then that. . . .

Ten years later I would ask myself. . . .

 

Search your heart for the deeper lessons

within your stories.

Only then can you pass on those treasures

to your readers.

 

They’re looking for them, you know.

 

Tuesday Tidbit: Use setting to ground your memoir and keep readers reading

“If the reader cannot visualize where and when your story took place … your memoir will suffer,” writes Victoria Costello in The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Memoir.

And I add to that: Your readers will suffer, too.

“A well-rendered setting,” Victoria says, “grounds your memoir in a specific reality that the reader can see in his mind’s eye.

“With vivid descriptions and sense imagery, a writer creates authenticity and immediacy, which make a story more compelling…. Even if it’s a familiar location, readers see it anew through your eyes, filtered by your experiences.”

Victoria continues, “… Your top priority is to put your personality into the perspective you take. Your experience of the place is inherently different from others’. Tell us why. Be original….”

“Don’t be vague in your rendering of place.

Concrete nouns and specific details convey a place

more vividly than abstract nouns.

Compare ‘honeybees hopping across a bed of violet petals’

to ‘a beautiful garden.’”

The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Memoir

So then, strive for honeybees and violet petals!

In her book, Victoria offers more tips on settings. I highly recommend The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Memoir. Your local independent bookstore will be happy to order it for you.

And if you missed recent posts about creating a sense of place, click on these below:

Must-know info about your memoir’s sense of place

Make your memoir come alive through a sense of place

Creating a sense of place is essential for your memoir

So, there you have it, your Tuesday Tidbit.

Be sure to come back Thursday 

when we'll look at a different kind of setting for your memoir.

Tuesday Tidbit: What's your family's role in your memoir?

Check out Victoria Costello's very helpful book, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Writing a Memoir. 

Pinpoint the “So what?” in your memoir

In writing your memoir, pinpoint the “So what?” of key events—the crises, victories, surprises, and discoveries.

Ponder this: Your memoir is about happenings that impacted you: you lost your job—or after overcoming obstacles, you landed the job of your dreams; your house burned down; you made the college varsity team; your child died; you survived cancer.

After you’ve written a rough draft of a vignette, ask yourself: 

• Why was that event so important to me?
• Why does this memory stand out when I’ve forgotten so many others?
• How did the event change me?

In other words, So what?

Memoir involves: 

• pondering,
• exploring,
• unraveling,
• reflecting,
• examining,
• untangling,
• mulling over,
• analyzing,
• musing,
• sorting out.

Peel off layers one by one until you can answer these questions:

How do you see the experience now, in retrospect?

What was going on beneath the surface?

If the event had not happened, how would your values, goals, perspectives, and relationships be different?

And, if your memoir has a spiritual dimension, how was God:

• orchestrating,
• managing,
• directing,
• holding the reins,
• choreographing,
• and arranging the details,
• to carry out His best plans for your life?

Connect the dots: To what new place did God lead you? How did He shake you up, change your mind, melt your heart, revise your goals, and make a new person of you?

“Many memoir writers in workshops I’ve taught,” writes Victoria Costello, “encounter trouble with the reflective voice.… If this is a stumbling block for you, here are some phrases that can help ease you into a reflective voice: 

• There must have been…
• Only later did I realize…
• There was no way to know then…
• The way I see it now…
• It has taken me 10, 20, 30 years to understand that…” (The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Memoir)

Here are additional reflective phrases you can use:

• I couldn't have put it into words back then, but now...
• It would be years before I understood that...
• I didn't understand it at the time, but...
• When I remember those events, I...
• If only I'd known back then that...
• Ten years later I would ask myself...

Search your heart

for the deeper lessons

within your stories.

Only then can you pass on

those treasures

to your readers.

So what?

In writing your memoir, pinpoint the “So what?” of each vignette you write.

Ponder this: Your memoir is about events that impacted you: you lost your job—or landed the job of your dreams; your house burned down; you made the college varsity team; your child died; you survived cancer.

After you’ve written a rough draft of a vignette, ask yourself:

• Why was that event so important to me?
• Why does this memory stand out when I’ve forgotten so many others?
• What is the significance of that experience?

In other words, So what?

That’s what I meant last week when I said memoir involves: 

pondering,

exploring,

unraveling,

reflecting,

examining,

untangling,

mulling over,

analyzing,

musing,

sorting out.

Peel off layers one by one until you can answer these questions:

How do you see the experience now, in retrospect?

What was going on beneath the surface?

How did it change your life?

And, if your memoir has a spiritual dimension, how was God:

orchestrating,

managing,

directing,

holding the reins,

choreographing,

and arranging the details,

to carry out His best plans for your life?

Connect the dots: To what new place did God lead you? How did He shake you up, change your mind, melt your heart, revise your goals, and make a new person of you?

“Many memoir writers in workshops I’ve taught,” writes Victoria Costello, “encounter trouble with the reflective voice.… If this is a stumbling block for you, here are some phrases that can help ease you into a reflective voice:

• There must have been…
• Only later did I realize…
• There was no way to know then…
• The way I see it now…
• It has taken me 10, 20, 30 years to understand that…”

(The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Memoir)

Search your heart

for the deeper lessons

within your stories.

Only then can you pass on

those deeper lessons

to your readers.

Writing your memoir “one sentence, one paragraph, and one vignette at a time”

If you’re writing a memoir, you know the process can be mysterious and intimidating. My advice? Tell yourself you’re only writing a rough draft—for your eyes only—and then keep writing.

“Write with the door closed,” suggests Stephen King. “Your stuff starts out being just for you.…” (On Writing)

“The first draft is the child’s draft,” writes Anne Lamott, “where you let it all pour out and then let it romp all over the place, knowing that no one is going to see it and you can fix it up later.…” (Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life) 

“Small steps are better than no steps,” says Victoria Costello.

“Writing memoir might be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do.… Feeling overwhelmed comes with the territory.… When you feel that sinking feeling, remember that a memoir is simply a string of personal vignettes. Take small steps and focus on finishing one sentence, one paragraph, and one vignette at a time. Worry about threading the story together later. (The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Memoir; emphasis mine) 

Yes, eventually you will fix up your rough draft: you will revise, reorganize, and rewrite. Every writer does. It’s not punishment.  It’s polishing and shining and clarifying for the sake of your readers.

For now, don’t worry about polishing. Just take the small steps, “one sentence, one paragraph, and one vignette at a time.”

Related posts:

Triggering story ideas for your memoir

Memories: How can you retrieve them?

Do you need story ideas?

Using photos to help you remember and write