Can an Average Person Write a Memoir?
One of the questions new writers often ask is simple:
Can an average person write a memoir?
My answer is yes.
In fact, some of the most meaningful memoirs may come from people who never considered themselves famous, important, or extraordinary.
You do not have to be a celebrity, politician, athlete, millionaire, or historical figure to have a story worth telling. You only need memories, experiences, and something you believe is worth passing along.
For many years, I had writing ideas swimming around in my head.
Before I retired, I worked in science and broadcasting, and throughout those years I was blessed with more ideas than I had time to develop. I kept notes. Sometimes I created outlines. Occasionally I managed to move an idea a little farther along.
I certainly wrote.
I completed class papers, employee reviews, screenplays, technical and professional writing, and assignments I was paid to produce.
But personal writing was different.
The memoirs, biographies, family stories, and other ideas I wanted to write always seemed to be waiting for that magical thing called free time.
And there never seemed to be enough of it.
I Kept Scheduling My Stories for “Someday”
Like many working people, I kept pushing my personal writing projects into the future.
I would write them when work slowed down.
I would write them when I had more time.
I would write them after I retired.
The problem with putting everything off until someday is that someday is not guaranteed to arrive the way we imagine it will.
My mother taught me that lesson in a way I have never forgotten.
She had stories of her own. Memories. Experiences. A life worth putting on paper.
But like so many people, when she had the physical ability to write, she did not always have the time, motivation, or opportunity to sit down and do it.
Then she suffered a stroke.
The stroke took away her ability to write.
Suddenly, she had something she had not had enough of before—time.
But now she could no longer physically do the writing herself.
That realization was painful for her. She became depressed and felt as though an opportunity had been lost.
That happened not long before my retirement from Stanford University, and it changed the way I looked at writing.
My Mother Found Her Ghostwriter
Fortunately, her story did not end there.
I stepped in.
I listened to my mother's memories, helped organize them, and completed her memoir for her.
I gave her the writing credit.
It was her life.
Her memories.
Her experiences.
Her book.
I was simply the person who helped move those memories from her mind onto the page.
And the smile that book brought to my mother's face gave me something I would carry into retirement.
Looking back, I sometimes joke that my mother found herself a ghostwriter.
That ghostwriter just happened to be her son.
Helping her finish that memoir became the spark that started another chapter in my own life.
Retirement Gave Me Time, but My Mother Gave Me Urgency
When retirement finally arrived, I began digging through those old notes, ideas, unfinished outlines, and stories I had saved for years.
One by one, I started bringing some of them to life.
Not quickly.
Not perfectly.
But slowly and surely.
That distinction is important.
People sometimes imagine writers sitting down with a brilliant idea and effortlessly producing a finished book.
That has never been my experience.
Writing is a process.
You sit down.
You remember.
You make notes.
You write a paragraph.
Then another.
You discover that one memory leads to another memory you had not thought about in twenty years.
Eventually, pages begin to accumulate.
The important part is starting.
You Do Not Have to Be Famous to Write a Memoir
A memoir is not valuable simply because the person writing it is famous.
It is valuable because the experience means something.
A memoir can be about growing up in a particular neighborhood.
It can be about military service.
It can be about raising children.
It can be about a marriage.
A career.
Caregiving.
Immigration.
Faith.
Loss.
Survival.
Education.
Starting over.
A family tradition.
A relationship with a parent.
Or one period of your life that changed the person you eventually became.
Readers often connect less with a person's fame than with recognizable human emotions.
Love.
Fear.
Ambition.
Regret.
Humor.
Mistakes.
Family loyalty.
Disappointment.
Hope.
Those things belong to ordinary people every day.
And that is exactly why ordinary lives can make extraordinary memoirs.
Memoir Is Not the Same as Autobiography
New writers sometimes believe that writing a memoir means starting with:
“I was born on…”
and then documenting every year until the present.
That is closer to an autobiography.
A memoir can be much more focused.
Instead of telling your entire life story, you might write about one period or one theme.
You might write about:
the neighborhood where you grew up,
your years in the military,
becoming a parent,
caring for someone you love,
surviving a difficult period,
working in an unusual profession,
your spiritual journey,
moving across the country,
going back to school later in life,
or one relationship that changed you.
You do not have to tell everything.
You only have to decide what story you are trying to tell.
That can make memoir writing much less intimidating.
Your Ordinary Life May Not Be Ordinary to Someone Else
Another problem people have is believing their lives are not interesting enough.
You lived it, so naturally it feels ordinary to you.
But someone else did not live it.
The house you grew up in may be gone.
The neighborhood may have changed.
The job you performed may no longer exist.
Family members who knew certain stories may no longer be here.
Traditions may disappear.
Places change.
Technology changes.
Communities change.
Language changes.
And people change.
What feels like an ordinary memory today can become valuable family or historical information tomorrow.
Sometimes we do not realize we are living through history until years later.
Write the Truth as You Remember It
A strong memoir is not about making yourself look perfect.
Readers usually connect more strongly with honesty.
That means acknowledging mistakes.
Confusion.
Bad decisions.
Lessons learned.
Things you misunderstood when you were younger.
Times when you were afraid.
Times when you failed.
And times when you surprised yourself.
A memoir becomes more powerful when the writer is willing to examine not only what happened, but what the experience eventually taught them.
You are not simply recording events.
You are trying to understand them.
That reflection is often where the real story lives.
Start With Memories, Not a Book
One thing that can stop a new memoir writer is thinking immediately about producing an entire book.
Do not begin by worrying about 200 pages.
Start with one memory.
Write about your childhood kitchen.
Your first job.
The first person you fell in love with.
A teacher you never forgot.
The day you left home.
The moment you became a parent.
Something your mother always said.
Something your father taught you.
A terrible mistake.
A wonderful surprise.
Write one memory.
Then write another.
You may eventually discover that those separate memories belong to the same larger story.
That is often how a memoir begins.
Record Your Stories If Writing Is Difficult
My mother's experience also taught me something else.
Writing does not always have to begin with a keyboard or pen.
Today we have options my mother did not have for most of her life.
You can speak your memories into a phone.
Record conversations.
Use speech-to-text software.
Ask a family member to interview you.
Work with an editor.
Work with a ghostwriter.
The important thing is preserving the story.
If physical limitations, eyesight, mobility, or another challenge makes traditional writing difficult, that does not mean your memoir cannot be written.
The storyteller and the person physically typing the words do not always have to be the same person.
My mother taught me that.
Do Not Wait for the Perfect Time
This may be the most important lesson I learned from her experience.
For years, much of my personal writing had a place on my imaginary calendar called:
Sometime in the future.
Retirement eventually gave me the time to return to many of those ideas.
But my mother's stroke showed me why waiting can be dangerous.
Life changes.
Health changes.
Memory changes.
Circumstances change.
Stories disappear when the people carrying them are no longer able to tell them.
So when someone asks me when the best time is to begin thinking about writing a memoir, my answer is simple:
Now.
You do not have to finish it today.
You do not even have to know exactly what the book will become.
Make some notes.
Record your voice.
Write down names.
Describe places.
Save photographs.
Create a timeline.
Write one memory.
Then another.
Give your future self something to work with.
The Average Person Is History Too
We often think history belongs to presidents, generals, entertainers, inventors, and famous people.
But history is also carried by factory workers, teachers, caregivers, mechanics, scientists, broadcasters, nurses, parents, grandparents, veterans, students, immigrants, neighbors, and children growing up in places that may look completely different fifty years later.
The so-called average person is part of history too.
Your story may never become a bestseller.
That does not determine its value.
Maybe your children will read it.
Maybe your grandchildren will.
Maybe someone researching your neighborhood, profession, culture, family, or generation decades from now will discover something in your story that exists nowhere else.
Or maybe a complete stranger will read what you wrote and think:
I thought I was the only one who felt that way.
That alone can make a memoir worth writing.
So, Can an Average Person Write a Memoir?
Absolutely.
You do not need fame.
You do not need an extraordinary life.
You do not need a perfect memory.
And you certainly do not need to wait until retirement.
You need a story, some honesty, and a willingness to begin.
My mother waited until she could no longer physically write her own story, but fortunately she had someone available to help her finish it.
Helping her preserve those memories changed my own relationship with writing.
It reminded me that stories do not remain available forever.
So if there is a memoir swimming around in your mind, do not keep assigning it to someday.
Sit down.
Turn on a recorder.
Open a blank document.
Pick one memory.
And begin.
Because the best time to start preserving your story may not be sometime in the future.
It may be today.
—Giftkone Publishing
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