Whether you like it or not, your family shaped you. The people in your life, the ones you loved and maybe the ones you struggled with, they made you who you are. So, writing about them isn't just about telling their stories; it's about understanding yourself.

Let me start with a question that might make you feel uncomfortable. Think about  someone from your past: a parent, a sibling, a grandparent, an aunt, a friend, a partner.  Choose someone who mattered, someone who changed you.

What made them memorable?

It's rarely the obvious things or the big moments. Sometimes it's just a gesture–the way your grandmother's hands looked when she was braiding your hair; how your father laughed at his own jokes; or the friend who always knew when you needed them without you asking.

These small details are gold in memoir writing. They're what make a person real on the page.

Here's what I want you to think about. When you remember this person, what do you value most about them? I don’t mean what you think you should value. What actually matters to you. Maybe they were generous; maybe they were stubborn and taught you how to stand your ground; or maybe they hurt you, and that wound taught you something about yourself.

People are complicated. Your family members are probably more complicated. And that complexity makes for compelling writing.

As you think about the person you've chosen, ask yourself this: How did they influence my life? What did I learn from them, whether they meant to teach me or not? Did they show you how to love? Did they model something you wanted to become? Or did they show you something you absolutely didn't want to become? Both matter.

Some of you might be nervous about writing about family. I get it. I was. In fact, I found it difficult to write openly about my parents until they had both passed away. The celebrated memoir writer David Sedaris found writing about his father difficult. A lot of what he has written was written after his father died in 2021. In a Guardian article he wrote in the months following, Sedaris recalls the difficult relationship with his father. He writes, “As long as my father had power, he used it to hurt me. In my youth, I just took it. Then I started to write about it, to actually profit from it. The money was a comfort, but better yet was the roar of live audiences as they laughed at how petty and arrogant he was” (read the full article here).

You might worry about what family or friends might think if they read what you really think of them. You might fear stirring up old conflict or old pain. That's normal. But know this: writing your truth, even the difficult stuff, is part of your story. You don't have to publish it. But you can still write it.

Family relationships involve conflict. Love and conflict often exist in the same space. The parent who pushed you too hard because they believed in you. The sibling you fought with constantly because you cared. The friend who disappointed you. These moments teach us about ourselves. They shape how we see the world and how we show up in relationships.

So here are five writing prompts to help you get started writing. Choose the one that speaks to you. Write for fifteen or twenty minutes. Don't edit. Just let the memory come.

Choose someone from your family or an important relationship. Don't describe them in general terms. Instead, write about one specific detail that brings them to life. How they moved, what they wore, a habit they had, or a phrase they always used. Let that detail be your entry point. Write around it until the person appears on the page.

Write about someone who mattered to you. What did you value most about them? Be specific. Not "they were kind" but rather "they remembered my birthday every year even after I moved away" or "they made me laugh when everything felt heavy." What quality did they have that you wish you had more of in yourself?

Think about how someone shaped you. Write about a time they influenced you, whether you recognized it at the moment or only later. Did they teach you something? Did they show you something? Maybe they changed how you saw yourself or the world? Write one scene that shows this influence at work.

Some of the richest relationships contain both love and conflict. Choose someone and write about a moment when you felt both. Maybe you were angry at someone you loved or maybe you disappointed them. Did the two of you have a disagreement that mattered? Write the scene. Show what happened. Let the reader feel both the love and the tension.

If you could ask this person one question, what would it be? Write out the question. Then write their answer as you imagine it. What would you want to know? What might they tell you?

One more thing before you go. Some of you have asked me, “What if I can’t remember exactly what happened or what was said?”

My reply is something along the lines of, “When you write about relationships, you're not trying to get the facts exactly right. You're not writing a biography or a documentary. You're writing about what these relationships meant to you. How they felt and what they taught you. Some details you'll remember perfectly while others you'll fill in with what feels true about that person and that time.”

That's the work of memoir. It's honest. It's your story. And most of all, it's your truth.

Take your time with this exercise. Write about more than one person if you want to. This is the beginning. You're gathering material. You're listening to the people who made you who you are. And when we read what you’ve written, we’re learning about the influence they had on making you who you are. That's what writing a memoir is all about.