Ten shun!
My first published book was a memoir, ‘The Scent of Dried Roses.’ ( Penguin Modern Classics 1996 )
Since then I have had many writers come to me for help with their memoirs. But more even than would-be novelists, most tend to give up, exhausted by the requirements of the form.
It’s understandable. Memoir is an exacting genre. You are confined not only by your knowledge of the facts ( or lack of them) but by your understanding of the facts - which is necessarily limited.
Many people come to me wanting to write a memoir of their parents or grandparents, who they believe have led fascinating lives. This is more in the nature of biography than memoir, but it can fit into the memoir pigeonhole - if the narrator is actively involved in the story. For instance, in ‘The Scent of Dried Roses’ I was a major character - the protagonist in fact - although the book was ‘about’ my mother and her suicide in 1988.
The first problem a writer has with memoir is gathering enough hard information together. Memory is not enough. I did this by assiduous research, historical and personal ( For insatnce, I interviewed at length every member of my family and friends who knew my mother).
The second is having the courage to be so open about something so private. All the best memoirs are terrifyingly open, my own included. Far more than being a novelist you are walking into the room naked. It isn’t for everyone.
The other problem is the same as the problem for novelists. What is your memoir about? What holds it together, what gives it shape?
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