Querying takes patience. Agents receive hundreds of submissions each week, and rejections are part of the process. Yet every year, memoirs find their way into the world.
Read MoreSummary tells readers what happened. It explains. It condenses. It reports.
For example:
“I was nervous about walking into the courtroom for the first time.”
“I realized my marriage was over.”
“That day changed everything.”
All true. All valid. All emotionally important.
But the reader experiences very little.
Read MoreMemoir is personal. You’re not writing about abstract ideas. You’re writing about your life. Your mistakes. Your growth. Your relationships. Your pain.
That level of vulnerability naturally triggers self-protection.
Read MoreIf you’re overexplaining, you might notice:
Over-polishing: Trying to make every word perfect kills the story’s energy.
Self-censoring: Avoiding key events or emotions out of fear.
Second-guessing everything: Rewriting or deleting scenes because they feel “too much.”
The fear is real—but letting it dictate your writing is optional. You can choose courage instead.
Read MoreAs the woman beside the man and behind the scenes, I learned how to craft my own identity apart from my politician husband, which often felt like a perpetual project of dispelling the myth of what a political spouse should be.
Throughout it all, I came to understand something simple and profound: we are the authors of our own stories. The moments we chalk up to “just life,” or minimize as “something everyone encounters,” become the touchpoints that define us. They live in the dash between our birth and our death—the place where the important stuff happens.
Read MoreBut the reality is that most writers never get to experience the big writing retreat. And this isn’t me delegitimizing retreats - they can be powerful, transformative, and deeply nourishing. There are ways to recreate their benefits without the airfare, the price tag, or the logistical gymnastics.
Read MoreDeciding to tell you story through memoir doesn’t mean that you’re ignoring what’s happening in the world. So much of what we see on the news begs us to pause, grieve, and even take action. That’s important, and however you move through these trying times is a personal choice. But, if you feel called to do so, you should always choose writing.
Read MoreYou are not stealing time from your kids by honoring your story. And you are not failing as a writer because your life is full. You are modeling something powerful: that creative dreams matter alongside responsibility — not after it.
Read MorePeople don’t avoid writing their memoir because they can’t write. They avoid it because they’re afraid of what writing will reveal. This is one of the most common fears in memoir writing. You worry your story is too ordinary. That it won’t resonate.
Read MoreWhat keeps most people stuck isn’t a lack of talent or discipline. It’s the fear of claiming meaning in their own life. Many of us were taught to minimize, to move on quickly, to be grateful and quiet. That voice sounds reasonable, but it’s lying.
When stories go unwritten, they don’t disappear. They show up as restlessness. Self-doubt. The feeling that something important remains unfinished.
Read MoreWhen you have a solid structure in place, you can write scenes without stopping to second-guess, leave placeholders instead of spiraling, and keep forward motion even on messy days
Read MoreBut here’s the truth I learned while writing my memoir, Accidental First Lady: You don’t need a clean slate to begin. You don’t need hours. You don’t need the perfect outline, the perfect desk, or the perfect plan. You just need movement. Even tiny movement. Because small steps now become massive momentum later.
Read MoreReaders don’t want flawless. They want real. They want the version of you who doubted, learned, tried again, and kept going even when it wasn’t pretty.
Read MoreA common mistake authors make is waiting until the book is printed to think about marketing. But effective author marketing starts long before publication day.
Read MoreThe problem isn’t a lack of discipline. It’s your container. If your writing routine can’t bend with your schedule. It’ll break when life demands more of you. Instead of dominating your day, writing needs a sacred and sustainable space.
Read MoreForget chapters, timelines, or whether it “fits.” Just write that one moment like you’re watching it unfold on film. Think of your memoir as a conversation with one person. What do you want him or her to know. Envision your extended arm, offering your hand to the reader, saying, “Come with me. I have something to share with you, and I’m going to show you what it meant to me and why it matters to you.”
Read MoreWhen you show up, even for five minutes, something profound happens: you start to trust yourself. You stop being the person who wants to write and become the person who does write.
That’s where confidence begins, not after you publish, but in the quiet rhythm of keeping your promise to yourself.
Read MoreWhile I wrote those early chapters, I knew I still hadn’t found my starting point, but I kept writing. Momentum increased. I was getting words on the page. My early manuscript was taking shape. I knew the perfect, or at least most appropriate beginning, would reveal itself to me.
Soon, my chapters looked less like the resume I’d started with (think boring lists of events I’d endured) and more like a revelation. I was still teaching those political spouses, my future readers, but my stories were becoming revelations that other readers would also relate to.
Read MoreMemoir isn’t a straight line. It’s a spiral. We move forward, circle back, dive deeper, rise again. Start where the ground shook. Then let the echoes guide your structure.
Read MoreMany writers think they have to get the opening exactly right before they can move forward. But here’s the truth: you’ll likely revise your opening after the rest of your story takes shape. The important thing is to start . Choose one powerful doorway into your story and walk through it.
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