In writing the memoir, we are bound to the essence of our lived lives. We grapple with the urgent sense that this story holds profound meaning, not just for ourselves as writers, but also for ourselves as readers of our own creation. We are the crucial first audience of our memoir. We create the very book we yearn for, and in having written it, we become attuned to its “otherness.” We are held captive on the page by its vulnerabilities.
Writing for Ourselves First
While considering our audience is important, prioritizing our own truth is paramount. A memoir can feel incomplete or unsatisfying if it shies away from exploring deeply personal and vulnerable moments.
As both creator and reader of our own work, we are deeply engaged by the emotions and insights we uncover in writing. This journey often involves facing weaknesses and confronting difficult truths about ourselves.
Once created, the memoir will have a life of its own, offering new perspectives and insights. We must then be ready to engage with these revelations and prepare to grasp the new truths we uncover about ourselves.
Page Captive: Writing Beyond the Expected
In creative writing, we can fall into predictable patterns. We recount hardships, triumphs, or personal milestones in familiar tropes or structures, adhering to safe strategies. But to write the memoir we would enjoy reading, we can break some rules, like experimenting with non-linear structures, interweaving different time periods, or even incorporating poetry into our prose. For example, to puncture symmetry, we can infuse the sorrows of the past with wit and humor. Or to reveal more uniqueness, we can highlight quiet moments instead of loud events. Or we can insist on an elliptical, non-definitive closure, since our life is still evolving.
Page Captive: Honoring the Unwritten Story
In all the memoirs that I’ve read, I’ve asked what they’ve left out, and what voices they excluded. The memoir I’m writing is aware of overlooked perspectives that will not find a place on my page. In writing about my ordinary life, I exercise extraordinary care, crafting with a clear, defined purpose.
So selective memory is inevitable. When I read my memoir, I become even more conscious of my erasures, modifications, camouflage, projection, and posturing. Intentionally, I write only a version of myself. Reading back to this version, however, should still pass the test of authenticity, or give an affirmative answer to the question: is this really me?
Page Captive: A Memoir That Lives Beyond Us
Writing the memoir is creating something that has the potential to inspire, comfort, or challenge others. The memoir can end up truly connecting with other beings, or become overly self-conscious. In the pursuit of perfection, it can lose its authenticity.
To remain honest, daring, and unapologetically personal, my memoir can’t be overly concerned with pleasing a target reader. Instead, it must find its audience on its own. As its first reader, what compels me to write is a yearning for self-discovery. No one else can write this book for me—this embodiment of the still unfolding narrative of my life.
