How to Write a Memoir When You Don't Know Where to Start

The Tyranny of the Blank Page

You've decided to write your memoir. You sit down with a notebook or open a fresh document. The cursor blinks. The page stares back at you, vast and empty.

Where do you even begin?

Do you start with your birth? That seems logical, but you don't actually remember being born. Do you start with your earliest memory? But which one? And how do you get from there to... everything else?

The more you think about it, the more impossible it seems. You have sixty, seventy, maybe eighty years of experiences. You have thousands of memories, millions of moments. How do you fit a whole life onto a page?

So you close the notebook. You'll figure it out tomorrow.

Tomorrow turns into next week. Next week becomes next month. The memoir remains unwritten.

If this sounds familiar, you're not alone. The blank page has defeated more would-be memoir writers than any lack of interesting experiences ever has.

But here's the good news: there's a better way to start.

Forget "The Beginning"

The first mistake most people make is trying to start at the beginning.

It seems logical. Stories have beginnings, middles, and ends. Your life started on the day you were born, so shouldn't your memoir start there too?

The problem is that your earliest memories are probably fragmentary. You might remember flashes of your childhood home, a beloved toy, your mother's face. But you don't remember a coherent narrative that you can write down in flowing prose.

More importantly, starting at the beginning puts enormous pressure on your opening. You feel like you need to craft the perfect first sentence, the ideal introduction, the hook that will make readers want to continue.

That pressure is paralyzing.

Here's a liberating truth: you don't have to write your memoir in order.

Published memoirs are edited and arranged after they're written. The author didn't necessarily write chapter one first. They wrote the parts they felt drawn to write, then organized them later.

You can do the same thing. Start anywhere. Start with the memory that's been on your mind lately. Start with the story you always tell at dinner parties. Start with the moment that changed everything.

The beginning can come later.

The Power of a Single Memory

Instead of trying to capture your whole life, try capturing one memory.

Not a period of your life. Not "my childhood" or "my twenties." One specific memory. One moment in time.

Here's why this works:

It's manageable. Writing about one memory doesn't feel like signing up for a multi-year project. It feels like something you could do in an hour.

It's specific. When you focus on a single moment, you naturally include sensory details. You remember what things looked like, sounded like, smelled like. These details bring your writing to life.

It opens doors. One memory leads to another. Write about your grandmother's kitchen, and you'll suddenly remember the cookies she baked. Remember the cookies, and you'll think of the Christmas when she taught you her recipe. That Christmas reminds you of the present you got that year, which reminds you of your childhood best friend, who gave you something similar.

A single memory is a thread. Pull it gently, and a whole tapestry of life begins to unfold.

Start With a Question

If you're still not sure where to begin, try answering a question.

Questions are easier than blank pages because they give you focus. Instead of wondering what to write about, you're responding to a specific prompt. The question does half the work for you.

Here are some questions to get you started:

Childhood

• What is your earliest memory? Describe it in as much detail as you can.

• What did your childhood home look like? Walk me through it room by room.

• Who was your best friend as a child, and how did you meet?

• What was your favorite game or activity as a child?

• Describe a typical Sunday in your childhood home.

Family

• What is your strongest memory of your mother?

• What did your father do for work, and what did you understand about it as a child?

• Did you have siblings? What was your relationship like?

• Who was the most influential relative in your life outside your immediate family?

• What family traditions did you have?

Turning Points

• What was a moment that changed the direction of your life?

• Describe a time when you failed at something. What did you learn?

• When did you first feel like an adult?

• What was the hardest decision you ever had to make?

• What's something you believed for years that you later realized was wrong?

Pick one question. Just one. Set a timer for twenty minutes and write whatever comes to mind. Don't worry about grammar, structure, or whether it's "good enough." Just write.

When the timer goes off, you'll have something on the page. You'll have started.

Themes vs. Chronology: Two Approaches

As you begin to accumulate memories on paper, you'll need to think about organization. There are two main approaches, and neither is wrong.

The Chronological Approach

This is the traditional memoir structure: start at the beginning (or at least early in life) and move forward through time. Birth, childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and so on.

Pros:

• It's intuitive for readers to follow

• It naturally shows how you changed over time

• It mirrors how we think about life as a journey

Cons:

• It can feel obligatory (do you really need to write about every phase?)

• It may front-load less interesting material

• It's harder to maintain momentum through decades

The Thematic Approach

Instead of moving through time, you organize your memoir around themes or topics. One section might be about your career, another about relationships, another about the places you've lived.

Pros:

• You can start with your most compelling material

• It allows you to make connections across different time periods

• It feels less like you're obligated to include everything

Cons:

• It can be confusing if you jump around too much

• Some readers prefer a clear timeline

• It requires more careful organization

A Hybrid Approach

Many successful memoirs use a combination. They might be broadly chronological but pause to explore themes in depth. Or they might be thematic but with each section moving through time internally.

The good news is that you don't have to decide this now. Write your memories first. Organize them later.

The Sprint Method

One effective approach to memoir writing is what we might call the "sprint method."

Instead of trying to write your entire life story at once, you focus on one theme or time period for a defined period—say, a week or a month. During that time, you answer questions and write memories related only to that focus area.

For example, you might spend a week on "Childhood." Each day, you answer one question about your early years. At the end of the week, you have seven pieces of writing that can be woven into a chapter.

The next week, you might focus on "Education." Then "Career." Then "Family."

This approach has several advantages:

It's sustainable. Writing one response per day is much more manageable than trying to write your whole memoir in marathon sessions.

It creates depth. By focusing on one theme at a time, you explore it more thoroughly than if you were jumping around.

It builds momentum. Each completed sprint gives you a sense of accomplishment that motivates you to continue.

It produces organized material. At the end, you have natural chapters or sections based on your sprint themes.

This is exactly the approach that Digital Memoirs uses. You choose a theme, commit to a 7-day or 30-day sprint, and answer one thoughtfully crafted question each day. At the end, you have the raw material for a memoir chapter.

Don't Edit While You Write

One of the biggest obstacles to getting started is the inner critic—that voice in your head that tells you every sentence is terrible, every memory is boring, every word choice is wrong.

The inner critic has its place. Editing and revision are important parts of the writing process. But they come later.

When you're getting your memories onto the page, your only job is to write. Not to write well. Not to write beautifully. Just to write.

Here are some strategies to silence your inner critic:

Write fast. If you're writing quickly, you don't have time to second-guess every sentence.

Set a timer. Commit to writing for a specific amount of time without stopping. Don't allow yourself to delete anything until the timer goes off.

Lower your standards intentionally. Give yourself permission to write badly. Tell yourself you're writing a "rough draft" or "notes" rather than the final memoir.

Remember that no one else has to see it. You can always revise later—or delete sections entirely. The page you write today is for you, not for an audience.

The goal of your first draft is to exist. That's it. Making it good is a problem for future you.

What If You Can't Remember?

A common concern is memory gaps. "I can't write about my childhood," people say. "I don't remember anything."

This is almost never entirely true. You remember more than you think. The memories are there—they just need the right key to unlock them.

Here are some ways to trigger forgotten memories:

Look at old photographs. Even if you don't remember the specific moment captured, photos can trigger associated memories. That picture of your family at the beach might not bring back that exact day, but it might remind you of beach trips in general.

Visit old places. If possible, go back to your childhood home, your old school, the neighborhood where you grew up. Physical spaces are powerful memory triggers.

Talk to family members. Your siblings, parents, cousins, and old friends remember things you've forgotten. Their memories might spark your own.

Use sensory prompts. Smell is particularly tied to memory. Is there a food that reminds you of your grandmother? A song that takes you back to high school? A particular smell that evokes a specific place?

Start with what you do remember. Even if it's just a fragment—a color, a feeling, a single image—write that down. Often, more details will emerge as you write.

It's also okay to write about forgetting. "I don't remember what my mother said, but I remember feeling..." is a perfectly valid way to write about your past. Memory is imperfect, and your memoir doesn't have to pretend otherwise.

The First Step Is the Hardest

Writing a memoir can feel like standing at the base of a mountain, looking up at a peak obscured by clouds. The journey seems impossibly long.

But you don't climb a mountain in a single leap. You climb it one step at a time.

Your memoir is the same way. You don't have to write the whole thing today. You don't have to figure out the structure, the themes, or the perfect opening line. You just have to write one memory.

Then another. Then another.

Before you know it, you'll look back and realize how far you've come.

So here's your assignment: Before you close this article, choose one question from the list above. Set a timer for fifteen minutes. And write.

Don't worry about whether it's good. Don't worry about where it fits in the grand scheme of your memoir. Just write one memory.

That's how every memoir begins—with a single memory, captured on a page.

You've got this.

Ready to start your memoir journey with daily guidance? Digital Memoirs provides thoughtful questions each day and helps transform your answers into polished chapters. No more blank pages—just your story, waiting to be told. Download Digital Memoirs and begin today.