Writing a Memoir, Writing a Biography | Write Your Memoir

When it comes to close encounters of the animal kind, you don’t have to be Captain “Sully” Sullenberger to have had one. Our friend Frank was accosted by a swan which didn’t leave him alone until he punched it in the beak. I’ve had two deer encounters, both of which were close calls. In the first, if I had been a foot ahead of where I was walking, the buck would have landed on me and might have killed me. In the second, a deer came out of nowhere one warm November night and struck my car, smashing my driver’s-side mirror, door, and window. At first, all I saw was a dark shape. I thought I had killed someone. If it had landed on my windshield, I might have lost control of the car.  Close calls that turned out well. But what if?

What close encounters of the animal kind have you had? Were they funny? Scary? Why not write a memoir about it?

Let me know how it goes.

The other day, I walked home from my elementary school. Virtually. Using Google Street View.

I went to Google Maps and entered the school address.

I clicked on the Red Balloon on the map, the symbol for the look-up address. A box appeared including a link to Street View. (Street View isn’t always available.) I clicked on Street View and a street-view photo of the school appeared. I felt like I was standing looking at the school. In the photo, a compass appears in the upper left-hand corner which allows you to see a 360-degree view. You can turn around and get your bearings by clicking on the compass–to orient yourself and figure out which way to go. Street names appear in white in the middle of the street, along with arrows indicating the direction you are facing on the street. When I clicked on the arrows, it was as though I was walking down the street.

Then I started walking home.

I went to the side of the school to the street I walked home virtually. From there, I clicked the arrows all the way home.

You don’t have to rely on your memory with so much information available. That makes memoir writing much easier.

Here are ways to use Google Street View when you are writing a memoir:

1. To refresh your memory about your neighborhood used to look like.  

2. To see what the neighborhood looks like now. How much has it changed? How much is it the same?

3. To get the look and feel of walking around (a great memory trigger).

4. To compare your adult memory against your childhood memories. How has your perspective changed?

5. To see the street signs and street names again. What associations do they bring up?

What have you found that you never believed you’d be able to find? Drop me a line.

Yesterday, we visited the Jewish Community Center of MetroWest in Whippany, New Jersey, to see “Family by Family,”  an exhibit of multi-generational family portraits of Jewish families from Newark, New Jersey. I was sorry there was no docent-led tour. Without it, the people in the photos didn’t come to life. We were just looking at family albums of people we don’t know.

I wonder how many family portraits amount to just that: photos of people you don’t know. Without first-hand descriptions, there’s no way to know the people in the photos. What did their laughs sound like? What did their kitchens smell like? How did they do their hair?

My great-grandmother Belle Gott (b 1875 d 1956) wrote the briefest of memoirs about her parents. ”My Folks and I” is only three pages long. But I know my great-great grandparents because Belle describes them in physical terms. Of her father she says,  ”It was always a joy to hear my father’s rich deep voice, to catch the sound of his whistled tune as he returned from work. I believe it is a happy man who comes home whistling.” Of her mother she says: ”Her eyes were that perfect blue to complement her spouse’s dark ones. She was fair, with brown wavy hair, but she lacked the strong teeth, such as father had. She had much dental trouble and finally resigned herself to a toothless old age, and matched it with a halo of silvery wavy, bobbed hair.” Belle says they both sang and hummed as they worked, something I do all the time.  “You get your singing from them,” says my husband.

Want an easy way to write a memoir? Pick a photo of an important person in your life and describe him or her using your five senses (see, hear feel, taste, smell). You’ll bring the person to life in a way the photo never can. Here are some questions to ask:

1. What color hair? What color eyes? Tall? Short? Stocky? Thin?

2. What did these look like: Feet? Hands? Walk? Stance?

3. What did this person sound like: Voice? Intonation? Accent?

4. Characteristic speech? Favorite words or expressions?

5. Views? Attitudes? Contradictions?

Let me know how this memoir tip works for you.

Seeing a mom and pop store on a corner is a memory trigger for me. The other day, I noticed the corner GE appliance store in nearby Caldwell, New Jersey, has windows full of “going out of business” signs. That triggered a memory for me of the corner candy store across from my elementary school in Schenectady, New York.

It was a candy and comic book store which catered to us kids. The first time I bought myself a treat–all by myself–was in that store. It was probably a Milky Way bar. I remember saving up coins from my allowance, taking them to school, crossing the street, and going into the store. Buying the candy was something to look forward to at dismissal time at 2:50.

Several years ago, I was in Schenectady and found my old school by accident. At that time, the store, which looked like a bodega, was still there. But it’s gone now. The display windows are boarded up. It seems to be just a home now.

Things change, but sensory triggers bring back memories. Music is a memory trigger. Tastes and sounds are too. When my husband, Evan Marshall, smells honeysuckle, he thinks of the terrible allergies he had as a kid.

What are your memory triggers? It’s easy to miss them, so keep some paper with you. Write them down. (“Seeing that store reminds me of…”) Even if you’re not sure, write it down. Keep the piece of paper in your pocket.  

“I have so many fun things I’d rather be doing than writing a memoir,” a frustrated memoirist told me. “I want to have done it [the memoir], but I don’t want to spend a lot of time  on it.”

That got me thinking about narrowing the scope of a memoir to small, concrete details. It’s counter-intuitive, but sometimes the most mundane details are the most interesting. Your favorite meal when you were a child. Sayings your mother said often. How you used to spend your day. How you got around when you were a kid.

My grandmother,  Helen Jewett,  wrote in her autobiography that the day she and my grandfather got married, they caught an overnight train from Wichita, Kansas, to Thayer, Missouri. They got a flat tire on the way to Wichita and were so late, they almost missed the train.

A porter saw them, stopped the train, and said, “I was expecting you, but thought you’d decided to get on at the flag stop down the way.” They jumped on the train, all out of breath. The next day, they took the mail truck from Thayer to Thomasville, Missouri. 

What everyday detail to you remember fondly? Why don’t you put it on paper?