One memoirist invites the reader into her a difficult
marriage. Another risks describing her teenage daughter’s mental illness. One
writer shares his son’s turbulent adoption journey. And another dares to detail
a slice of her childhood experience that fed her eating disorder.
Would you?
As memoirists purpose to tell the truth, we make choices
about what to include in our telling and what to exclude. As we do, we find ourselves
pulled between what can feel like two opposing poles: love and truth.
PRACTICE LOVE.
Considering writing a tell-all memoir that will shock
readers and outrage those you love?
Most often, publishing a blog post, article or book that you
suspect will damage your relationships with those you love—or struggle to
love—isn’t worth it. If your published writing will expose a friend to
ridicule, erode your child’s trust in you or harm your relationship with your
in-laws, please reconsider. Be wary of the logic that insists some “greater
good” trumps the intimate relationships that have been entrusted to you.
Also, power and vulnerability matter.
In
Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and
Life, Anne Lamott advises, “You own everything that happened to you.
Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should
have behaved better.” (That’s funny, right?) The same abandon, however, isn’t
appropriate when writing about folks who are more vulnerable, like your young children.
Protect the stories of those who are vulnerable.
Q: Is there ever a time to
write when relationships will be damaged?
Yes.
Malala Yousafzai bravely shared her story in
I Am Malala.
Those who resist the education of girls in Pakistan may be offended by
Yousafzai’s book. Most likely, her telling won’t
build relationship with those who sought to take her life. But hers
is still a story that’s worth telling, despite the risk. Mahatma Gandhi exorts,
“Truth never damages a cause that is just.”
Tip: If you’re considering writing memoir that exposes the
stories of others, invite the counsel of wise colleagues.
SPEAK THE TRUTH.
What about telling “truth” that exposes others? Is there a
way to tell the truth—that your father drank too much or that your sister
struggled with an eating disorder—and still honor the people about whom you
write?
In some cases, with their permission, it is.
There are a host of creative ways to signal what is most
essential to your own story while:
- Honoring another as a beloved and valuable individual
- Excluding titillating details that aren’t necessary to the story
- Avoiding whining or begging for sympathy
- Revealing a person who, like us all, is complex (not
oversimplified)
Q: Is there ever a time to
reserve some of the “truth”?
Yes.
The reader doesn’t need to hear about every ugly detail
about your father’s abuse of your mother. In some cases, you serve the reader,
and you serve the story, by telling less. It’s possible to tell a story that is
“true” in the deepest sense by signaling to the reader only what is most
essential.
Jeanette Walls does this so beautifully in
The Glass Castle.
Though Walls describes a childhood of
alarming neglect, she does it without vilifying her parents. By describing her
experiences without whining or demanding pity, by presenting her parents as
both wonderful and flawed people, she makes room for the reader to experience what
she experienced.
Tip: You serve the book and serve the reader by “showing”
rather than “telling.” Don’t tell
reader that your great grandfather was schizophrenic, show him.
Question: Morally, do you need another’s permission to tell
their story? (Legalities are another level of consideration!)
Is there a story in your life that—in your estimation—isn’t
for others? (Be vague!) Have you read a blog post or article or book that you
felt went too far in revealing what ought to have remained private?
