Don’t Just Tell Your Story. Transform It
Memoir is a conversation between your past and present self
Memoir writing can be described as the act of looking again—and more deeply—at the story you’ve been carrying.
When we write memoirs we transform our lives on the page, for both ourselves and our readers.
You’re not just describing what happened, you’re exploring what it meant—and how meaning evolves over time.
Here are some guiding principles that I’ve learned on my writing journey to help you write a memoir that moves with purpose, insight, and emotional resonance.
Focus on your emotional ending, not a chronological one.
The climax of a memoir is a point of transformation or a shift in perspective. Your ending is the answer to a thematic question you’ve been exploring. You might still feel doubt, fear, or longing—you are human after all, but there’s now a clarity, or a truth you’ve come to accept. That’s the arc.
Your life doesn’t need to be tied up in a bow. But your story should offer some shape, some insight, or some sense of emotional completion. What you’re creating is not a definitive record of your life, but a meaningful arc of becoming.
Ask yourself: What shift in perception will this story reveal?
You are the knowing narrator and the vulnerable protagonist.
You’re both the one who lived the story and the one who’s telling it now, with the benefit of hindsight. From this vantage point, you’re looking back not just to relive, but to illuminate.
You’re showing how you came to understand.
We all have the version of our story we’ve told ourselves for years. It might be rooted in fact, but it’s filtered through emotion and survival. Part of memoir writing is noticing where your old narrative no longer fits—and being brave enough to explore what else might be true.
Memoir asks: What do I understand now that I didn’t then? What might I still not understand?
Meaning lives in the layers.
While journaling captures what happened and how you felt in the moment, storytelling steps back and offers shape, context, and evolution.
When writing about an event, say a fight, a betrayal, a longing, ask yourself: Why am I telling this? What is it really about?
The surface is never the whole story.
Make the personal universal.
The power of memoir is not in the uniqueness of your story, but in your ability to reveal what’s human within it. Each of us carries wisdom shaped by the experiences we’ve endured. You’re offering readers a mirror.
Others may have walked a similar path, but only you can speak to what it meant to you and what it taught you.
Ask yourself, what part of my humanity am I offering?
Final thought:
Memoir is not a performance. It’s a conversation—between your past and present self, between you and your reader. You don’t need to be healed to begin. You only need to be curious, courageous, and committed to the deeper truth.
Want some practical guidelines for finding the heart of your story?
Reply, comment or message me with the word “hook” to get free my five-minute video “Find Your Memoir’s Hook”.
Thanks for all the inspiration!
Hook, Please!