Confused about the difference between memoir and autobiography? Discover why memoir might be the perfect choice for your personal story.
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This is a frequently asked question. How do I start writing my memoir? Where do I start? Our minds are full of memories and stories. Which one should we start with? Do I need a plan? How do I structure my memories? Should I join a writing group or find a memoir coach?
The question of how and where to start can feel so overwhelming that many simply give up and put off the idea. Yet, here you are in my class, wanting to share and make sense of your precious life. Good. Hang in there. The fact that you’re reading this suggests you’re serious about getting started. I’ve got a few tips that might help you.
Memoir vs. autobiography
First, it’s important to differentiate between an autobiography and a memoir. An autobiography is an account of your entire life from birth up until the current time. A memoir focuses on a specific experience, event, or transition in your life: overcoming an illness, the breakdown of your marriage, a move into a new career, looking back on an important accomplishment or change of some kind during which you experienced a transformation.
The Memoir Formula
My memoir coach Marion Roach Smith offers a sort of algorithm or formula that can help. “My memoir is about A as illustrated by B to be shared in a C.
A = is the universal theme or idea that your story reveals
B = is your specific experience told in story form
C = is where you are going to share the story (i.e. in a book, a private notebook, as a legacy document for the family, as a podcast, a personal essay, etc.)
Example: My memoir is about learning to let go of an old story in order to become who I was meant to be as illustrated by my transition from an academic to becoming a travelling storyteller to be published in a collection of short stories.
Start with a Scene
I recommend that my students begin not by thinking in terms of chapters but in terms of scenes. Pick one turning point, one pressure that you faced, or one question that your life keeps circling around. A memoir needs focus, and it usually starts at the beginning of the story, not at birth.
After my father died, I found myself wanting to write about our relationship, but where should I begin? I wanted the story to be about a son overcoming his anger and resentment of his father as illustrated by the time I spent with him in hospital when he was dying. I envisioned the story becoming the basis for a one-man performance on stage.
After considering a lot of scenes, I settled on a scene from the hospital during the final hours of his life as the place where I would begin. That scene opened with my anger at his inability to communicate with me and ended with a brief connection between us that was conveyed in a gesture of gallows humour.
Taking the First Steps
A good first step:
Write a one-sentence focus for the book. Use Roach-Smith’s algorithm or formula above.
List 10 scenes that shaped that focus.
Pick the 3 scenes with the most emotional charge.
Write one scene in full, with details, dialogue, and action.
Put the rest aside for now.
You do not need the perfect opening first. Many memoir writers gather material first, then decide where the book begins after they know the shape of the story. If you get stuck, write the version of your life story you always tell, then go deeper and ask what changed, what was lost, and what was learned. Remember, that readers want to see your transformation. Memoir is essentially about what happened and how you were changed by what happened and how it’s contributed to who you are today.
Focus on a Moment or Event
For a memoir coach-style start, ask these three questions:
- What event changed me?
- Why does this story matter now?
- Who is this for?
A simple first page exercise helps:
Write about one ordinary day that sits close to your bigger story.
Stay with one scene. Use specific sensory detail. End with a small shift, a question, or a new realization.
Working with Writing Prompts
Starting small is why I use writing prompts. A prompt can help the mind discern what is important within a particular context and time restraint. I usually suggest prompts of 7-minutes. I find relatively short time restrictions keep the inner critic at bay. I urge my students to keep the pen moving or the fingers typing. Trust that what needs to come out, will come.
I’m not suggesting you use prompts to write your entire memoir (although I’m sure it could be done) but my students find them useful to get tucked into their memories and begin sorting out what might be useful later on. The writing is more spontaneous and doesn’t require a lot of scaffolding beyond what the prompt asks for.
Your goal at the start is not structure. Your goal is material. Write enough to find the true spine of the memoir, then shape it afterward. It’s like a sculptor throwing down a mound of wet clay. The sculptor begins to move it about shaping it, getting an idea of what will work and what won’t. He or she begins to take some of the clay away or move it about adding it somewhere else until a shape forms in the mind. Eventually, the whole will emerge.
So, start with a moment and let the moment guide you. Enjoy the journey and let the destination take care of itself.
If you’re interested in getting started on your memoir or personal essay, explore my resources and courses at the Memoir Studio. If not already, become a paid subscriber and receive weekly writing prompts, tips, and techniques to support your writing practice.
For a long time, I’ve described Memoir Studio as a place to teach memoir. After all, I spent years as an English teacher, lecturer, and tutor, teaching students how to write. I saw what I was offering at the Memoir Studio as a kind of curriculum—a set of techniques, frameworks, and skills designed to help people move their stories from memory to the page.
But after conducting a market discovery investigation, I’m not so sure.
Inspired by the work of authentic business coach George Kao, I recently re-examined the feedback I’ve received from students, customers, and participants in my memoir and storytelling courses. According to Kao, market discovery is the process whereby you discover what your customers really want as opposed to you assuming what they want and need. You make calls, conduct polls, and begin conversations online to find out what attracts people to your services. Let them describe their wants and needs. And use their language to market your business.
The feedback I received from a market discovery viewpoint shifted my perspective. They weren’t talking about sentence craft or publishing logistics. They were talking about safety, courage, connection, and transformation. They talked about the importance of feeling witnessed and acknowledged for who they were.
The gap between my expectations and my clients’ feedback is what Kao refers to as the distance between the “mountain top” and the “riverbank.” He describes the “mountain top” as the place “where you stay in your head, with your ideas, frameworks, and content. You reflect, write, record, and refine your own thinking there.” According to Kao, if you stay there locked in your own language and assumptions about what you think people need, “you often get “crickets” because you are not checking how real people describe their problems or what they are ready to pay for.” (Check out George’s podcast)
I realized that I had been speaking from the “mountaintop”—my own academic view of the writing process—while my participants were describing the experience from the “riverbank,” the place “where your people already flow in daily life, with their habits, their words, and their spending patterns” (see Kao on Instagram). As it turns out, my business isn’t just about teaching writing as I had assumed; according to what people are actually telling me, it’s about creating the conditions where writing becomes possible. It’s about an experience.
The “Riverbank” Perspective
When participants shared what they actually valued, the common denominator wasn’t my curriculum; it was the environment or conditions I created and what they experienced that was important. They described profound, personal shifts. Phrases frequently used in the feedback included the following:
- “I found my voice.”
- “I found a way to write what couldn’t be named.”
- “I gained courage.”
- “I felt witnessed”
- “I found deeper insight.”
- “Sharing in a small group was so important.”
- “I enjoyed the journey.”
They arrived with varied, specific questions—where and how to start, how to navigate difficult family stories, how to blend mysticism with memory—but they left with similar experiences of feeling freer, seen, transformed, and honoured.
What Memoir Studio Actually Offers
Based on this feedback, I am shifting how I define the work I do. Memoir Studio is not a school for writing; it is a community for people who want to discover the deeper meaning of their lives through the act of writing.
Together, we are finding that the “work” isn’t just the writing itself. The writing is the visible outcome of something deeper that happens first. And thanks to market discovery, that “something” uses my clients’ expressed values as a foundation.
- Safety: A reflective, respectful space that allows participants to write honestly in small, intimate groups.
- Reflection: Valuing the preparation—the meditations, the deep listening, and the atmosphere—as much as the writing itself.
- Community: The realization that listening to others isn’t just a benefit; it is a fundamental mechanism of the transformation process.
- Gentle Expertise: Providing both the technical knowledge to guide a story and the kindness to hold the person writing it.
A New Way Forward
My participants have made it clear: they aren’t looking for another introductory course on memoir writing. They are looking for continuity, accountability, and continued companionship.
Moving forward, Memoir Studio will organize its offerings not so much around products, but around the stages of the writer’s journey:
- First Steps: Finding a starting point through workshops and simple invitations.
- Deeper Exploration: Exploring memory with greater honesty.
- Staying the Course: Staying connected through ongoing circles and gentle coaching.
- Mapping the Journey: Crafting a complete manuscript with one-to-one support.
- Leaving a Legacy: Sharing stories with family and the world.
The most important discovery I’ve made is that my business isn’t about teaching people how to write a memoir. It’s about providing a place where they feel safe enough to tell difficult truths and find the courage to keep going. That is a much rarer, and much more meaningful promise.
To that end, I will, in the weeks ahead, create a community membership. For an affordable monthly fee, members will have access to the Memoir Studio and its resources. More importantly, they will have access to fellow writers and opportunities to work in small, intimate groups to share their writing and encourage one another. Stay tuned for the details.
I’d appreciate your comments and/or suggestions. As a writer, what is it that you want and need when considering a personal writing course? Leave your comments and suggestions below.
To learn more about how “market discovery” can transform your business, visit George Kao’s website at www.georgekao.com or sign up for his “Clarifying Your Calling: Authentic Market Discovery” course.
Another writing prompt exercise: https://substack.com/@memoirstudio/note/p-191999268?r=20esnn&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=notes-share-action
Values are often handed down quietly. We inherit ways of thinking, believing, and behaving long before we examine them. Sometimes, we keep them; sometimes we outgrow them. Which have you inherited and kept? Which have you let go?
With gratitude,
Michael
