
Memories are as stacked pages of our life that we can order and at times re-stack. Each moment we recall is like a page in the larger map of our life. Writing a memoir isn’t just about throwing those pages into a book—it’s about curating them, crafting the shifts in time and space to build something that feels authentic. Memoir writing is not just chronicling those memories but shaping them into a compelling narrative.
Stacked Pages in Layered Memory
We do not merely recollect a page stack of memories; we select, arrange, and layer them, with each memory unfolding. We decide which pages come first, and which last.
We might be recalling something small from the first shift in time – our first page. It maybe a room in our childhood home, or the smell of our mother’s cooking. Those are nostalgic moments representing simpler times. They will begin our story, our stack on page one.
Yet stacking memories isn’t about linearity. We are free to jump across time, shifting between the past and the present. The spaces between these memories enable the rhythmic flow of what we were to what we are. We are trying to let readers into those times and spaces as they turn the page of one stacked memory to the next.
Flipping the Pages of Stacked Memories
Time does not flow in a straight line, but warps and whirls. When we’re turning the pages of a well-crafted memoir we hardly sense the jumps across time. The carefully executed shifts guides us instead through the maze of a life with seamless and natural transitions. Writing a memoir, our goal is for our anticipated reader to access a fluid narrative.
When we revisit a significant event from the past—perhaps a painful memory from adolescence—thoughtful writing can bring that distant memory to the present, drawing the reader into the experience as if it were happening now. Past and present blend and overlap, subtly inviting presence and participation.
To create continuity, even with fragmented memories, shifting time is possible in the page stack. A personal revelation in the present triggers a recollection from another time. A current-day memory is described, then a subtle image throws it back to a moment from years ago. It’s not simply contrasting then and now, or declaring a linear evolution; it’s about the seamless and sometimes unrecognizable shift in time that adds depth to the narrative.
Stacked Pages of Places in Memory
Just as time is not linear in a memoir, neither is space. The spaces of our story—the places where our memories live—must be crafted with care. The physical spaces we inhabited at different times become our stacked locations, a geography of our past.
Think of the different rooms in our childhood home: the kitchen where our family gathered, the bedroom where we spent hours lost in books, the backyard where we played with friends. These spaces are more than backdrops for our memories—they are characters in their own right, full of symbolism and significance. As we shift through time in our memoir, we strive to anchor some memories to these physical spaces. They stabilize our story, even as it jumps from moment to moment.
Not all spaces in our memoir need to be physical. Memories live in metaphysical spaces, too—an emotional home, a state of mind. A memory might take us to a time of great joy, but also to a place of sadness or confusion. These shifts between physical and emotional spaces give our stacked pages a deeper resonance, as the space of memory expands beyond the tangible.
Intentional in Stacking of Memory on the Pages of Your Memoir
As we work our way through our life’s pages, we must consider which memories are worth including. Which are crucial to the arc of our narrative, and which need to be left out? We need selection and arrangement to define the emotional page stack of our memoir. Each shift in time and space should add a new insight into our character or a deeper understanding of the forces that shaped us.
We can even contrast two memories—a moment of joy followed by a moment of loss—to highlight the passage of time and the way life is always in flux. At other times, we might return to a single memory again and again, stacking its layers to reveal new perspectives or hidden truths.
The key in page stacking memories is to be deliberate. Just as we do not read book pages haphazardly, we must be careful and intentional with our memories. The spaces between them, how we move from one to the next, matters. The rhythm of our life on the page depends on this careful curation of shifts in time, these stacked moments.
Nostalgia on the Stacked Pages of Memory
As we shift between our stack of memories, we create nostalgia, a longing for a time or place that no longer exists. Our readers might catch this nostalgic feeling, and yearn for the spaces and times we inhabit in our memories. As our stacked pages of memories pull readers into our past and present, they relive and own those moments on the page. As one page turns and another begins, our memories are reworked and reshaped in the narrative that readers bring back to our journey.