In some ways, writing a memoir is knocking yourself out with your own fist, if it’s done right. Mary Karr, from The Art of Memoir

Thank you again for clicking on this post and either committing to writing your memoir, or considering it. Hopefully, I’ll give you some things to ponder that will result in either digging in or unsubscribing to this publication so that I don’t annoy the hell out of you with unwanted emails. Please do that if this is not for you. I will still love you, no offense taken. Not everyone wants to write their story.

One question I get from writers as they start down the memoir path is where to begin. A good answer is to stop and think about why you want to write your story. That may sound simplistic, but it will inform the perspective you choose and the shape of your structure.

When I started writing my first memoir, I only knew that my mother had especially wanted the story told. She had left me notes in her longhand, barely legible, and a folder full of news articles about the plane crash that was the precipitating event of our family saga. (More about precipitating events later.) It took me a great deal of work and writing, about a year’s worth, to discover I was writing my own story. It wasn’t just about my parents and my sisters, it was about me – the one person I had neglected to consider in draft after draft. Often the very thing you will avoid writing about is what you need to include. Whenever I read a draft from a writer who skims over a scene, I know there is usually something important underneath to be excavated.

So, why do we write memoirs? What is your reason? Are you ready and in the right space in your life and head to do this now? I’m going to ask you to think about some specific questions, and give you an assignment to help you on your way. I’m looking forward to your questions and comments (from subscribers) to start our conversation.