As memoirists, 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 – detached observers of our own creation. In a sense, we are the most crucial readers of our own memoirs. We have created the very book we yearned for, and in doing so, have become attuned to its “otherness,” its existence as a separate entity, we are page captive.
Writing for Ourselves First
While considering our audience is important, prioritizing our own truth is paramount. Some memoirs feel incomplete or unsatisfying because they shy away from exploring deeply personal and vulnerable moments.
As both creators and readers of our own work, we are deeply engaged by the emotions and insights we uncover during the writing process. This journey often involves facing vulnerabilities and confronting difficult truths about ourselves.
Once created, the memoir can take on a life of its own, offering new perspectives and insights even to us who are writing them. We must then ask ourselves: Are we ready to engage with these revelations? Are we prepared to grasp the new truths we have uncovered about ourselves?
Page Captive: Writing Beyond the Expected
We can easily fall into predictable patterns in our writing, recounting hardships, triumphs, or personal revelations in a familiar, expected structure. But in adhering to these safe strategies, are we not also boring ourselves?
If we truly want to write the memoir we ourselves would enjoy reading, can we not allow ourselves to break some rules? Experiment with non-linear structures, interweaving different time periods, or even incorporating poetry into our prose. Instead of dwelling on the sorrows of the past, how about infusing our narratives with wit and humor? Should we highlight the emotional weight of our experiences, or should we simply be honest about the pain? Should we insist on definitive endings when we know that our life itself is constantly evolving?
Highlighting moments that truly matter—the quiet times, those shared glances across a room, the comforting aroma of our mother’s cooking—reveals the unique individuality that lies beneath the surface of our stories, going against generic tropes and grounding us in the reality of lived experience.
Page Captive: Honoring the Unwritten Story
About the memoirs that I’ve read, I believe that all lives matter. But what did those memoirs leave out? What voices did they exclude?
If I will read the memoir that I write, I should perhaps be able to ensure that overlooked perspectives will find a place on my page. Maybe this means writing about my ordinary life with extraordinary care. Crafting alone is meaningless if I can’t find meaning in the craft. Maybe it means writing about my experiences that originally will not even gain a marginal look. Maybe it means writing more about joy, rather than suffering.
There is something vital—not just for myself, but for future readers—in discovering the full spectrum of human potential. By reading our own memoirs, we hear our own voices with extraordinary clarity, inspiring us to respond to do better and aspire for greater things.
Page Captive: A Memoir That Lives Beyond Us
Writing for the present moment means creating something that has the potential to inspire, comfort, or challenge others. But can my memoir truly connect with other beings, or has it become overly technical and self-conscious, losing its authenticity in the pursuit of perfection?
If we remain honest, daring, and unapologetically personal in our writing, we won’t be overly concerned with pleasing everyone. What truly matters is the story we feel compelled to tell, the story we ourselves yearn to read.
No one else can write this book for us. It is the embodiment of our self-discovery, a reflection of who we are and who we have become. As we delve into these pages, we discover a new friend, a deeper grasp of ourselves, and are drawn in by the unfolding narrative of our own lives.