the creative life

One of my regrets: I didn't write down the stories my grandmother told me at the kitchen table. I didn't ask her to write her memoirs.

Whether as a legacy to family or as a book for the masses, memoir is story made from real life. I asked Mary DeMuth, whose book Thin Places: A Memoircomes out in February, to guest blog on writing memoir.

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Heather kindly invited me to write about memoirs. I’m thankful to have the opportunity. I wrote Thin Places (releasing in February) only after I gave myself permission to say it all. More on that later.

First, one clarification about memoir: no memoir can be 100% accurate. Every memoirist must recall, to the best of his/her ability what happened in the past. Only God knows what truly happened! And to protect the people listed in a memoir, I’ve changed names and distinguishing characteristics. That’s allowable in a memoir, and is often expected.

To make a memoir work, it must be:

1. From someone famous.
2. Or a story so strong and surprising, the story carries the book.

I’m of the latter category since I am by no means famous. But my story is raw and redemptive. And a bit out there.

The most important thing for a memoir is that it be memorable and beautifully written. If you don’t have a platform, near perfect writing is a must backed up by an intriguing/surprising story. Think of a memoir as a novel with rising action, climax and denouement. Consider writing it as you would a novel, with characters, dialogue and a plot (even if the plot is your life!).

A great example of a memoir that tells an amazing story is Parting the Waters: A True Story: Finding Beauty in Brokennessby Jeanne Damoff.

But even though the story is beautifully written, Jeanne shopped the story to every publishing house far and wide through her agent. Though it was a great story, she faced a lot of rejection.

Eventually, after much prayer and seeking wisdom, she decided to self-publish the book through WinePress. It’s got a wonderful cover and is selling well.

Another amazing memoir is Startling Beauty: My Journey From Rape to Restorationby wife Heather Gemmen. Wow. It’s one of the most beautifully written, achingly painful memoirs I’ve read.

It’s not easy to write a memoir. I fear that some people are so afraid to do it because the people involved aren’t yet dead. So they work on a fictionalized version. Is that really honest? What is the purpose of telling your true story if you make it fiction? Of course, you can take elements of your struggle and life and place that in fiction, but I’ve found that tacked on messages seldom make a book.

My best advice: obey God. Write what He tells you to write. If you’re too afraid to write a memoir, then don’t do it. Prayerfully consider whether your need to get it all out is, instead, a form of catharsis that no reader really needs to see. And if you add some of your story to the memoir, consider that story is the king. The story must support what you write about.

Author of three parenting books, four novels, and a memoir, Mary E. DeMuth helps foks turn their trials into triumphs. Mary has spoken at several national writers conferences and has had the privilege of teaching in the US, Europe, and Africa for various churches and church planting ministries. She’s appeared on national TV in Canada, and WFAA’s Good Morning Texas. Mary and her husband, Patrick, reside in Rockwall, Texas with their three children. They’ve returned from breaking new spiritual ground in Southern France, where they planted a church. 

On my hunt for all things and people creative, artsy, and whimsical, I met Erin Teske, artist extraordinaire and fellow Cheesecake Factory lover. At some point in our cyber (and one real-life meeting), I discovered that she makes and sells Coffee Cuffs. I love these things! I keep mine in my purse, ready to whip out at any Starbucks. And I've gotten more compliments on it than the Queen of Sheba got in her heyday.

Two years ago I attended a retreat that would have been dismally disappointing had it not been for two things: (1) a close friendship that came out of that retreat and (2) a breakout session on visual prayer.

"I can teach anyone to draw," my new friend, Gina (pronounced "Jenna"), told me. We sat at T.G.I.F.'s one evening during a writer's conference.

"Obviously you haven't seen my attempts at stick figures." I drew one in the condensation on my glass for emphasis.

She took a napkin and her glass and proceeded to explain her process.

I've been trying it out. My sketches may not be masterpieces, but they're identifiable. And they've provided a new way to be creative, to pray, and to work through life.

Those crazy peas. Look at them winding around each other, clinging like they can hold each other up. I shake my head with an amused smile and guide their limbs so they can grab onto the trellis.

The squirrels--not so amusing (although I'm sure after I've covered my beds with cayenne pepper, they'll provide plenty of entertainment). More holes! And my poor seedlings. Another two bite the dust.

The thrift store is the Velveteen Rabbit of clothes. Well-loved shirts, jeans, and skirts find themselves re-racked.

We sat around a table on the patio long after dark, sangrias in hand. The sound of the ocean lapping the rocky beach provided background music.

"Once upon a time, there lived a girl," someone started, perhaps Miguel. Miguel had a habit of starting things.

"Her name was Lola. She was a showgirl." That was Ben, without a doubt.

One by one, we passed along the story, each adding something, maybe a sentence, maybe several paragraphs, until the happily-ever-after.