As a memoir writer, you might think that all the material you need is just waiting in your memory. Sure, novelists dig through archives and interview experts. But memoir writers? How much research does a memoir really need? It’s a fair question—with at least some clear-cut answers.
For most of us, memory isn’t a direct record of events. It’s more of a reconstruction. And we subtly rebuild our memories a little differently each time we revisit them. Research can close the gap between what we “remember” and what actually happened. Or at least get us closer to fact.
What Kind of Research Does Your Memoir Need?
Start with the basics: dates and timelines. If your story spans a decade, make sure you have the order of events right. Weirdly, our minds love to compress and reorder situations.
As for setting, get the details of the town, the house, the school as they were then. If you’re describing a building that’s since been torn down or a street that’s been renamed, a quick search or glance at an old map can save you from an anachronism that a sharp-eyed reader will catch.
Of course, you want to make sure you have the facts about other people in your memoir right, too. Interview those you can to see how their memories align or differ from yours. For instance, when did your father leave his job at the factory? How did the move to the city affect your siblings? What was the actual story beneath the gossip that hounded a teacher out of their position?
When Memories Conflict
Sometimes your research will turn up a version of events that doesn’t match your memory. A sibling remembers the fight happening at Thanksgiving; you remember it at Christmas. A discovered note contradicts the story you’ve told yourself for twenty years.
You don’t have to resolve every discrepancy in favor of “accuracy.” Your memoir is your account of events. It’s inherent in the notion of memoir that your story will be filtered through your own perspective.
But, if you can’t verify something, or if your memory does conflict with someone else’s, say so on the page: as I remember it; my brother tells it differently. That kind of honesty builds trust with your reader.
Others’ memories may be no more reliable than our own. But, still, they can provide a valuable source to cross-reference as we aim closer to the truth.
Research Letters, Photos, and Journals for Your Memoir
If you have access to letters, photographs, or journals from the period you’re writing about, that’s great! Artifacts like those provide a rich vein to mine. A journal entry might reveal that you weren’t nearly as certain, or as angry, or as calm as you remember being. A photograph might remind you of someone else who was present at a particularly impactful moment.
In addition to helping you verify facts, objects like these can remind you of details and “color” you may have otherwise forgotten.
Research historical or cultural context—the popular music of the time, the news of the day, even the price of eggs, as well. These details can help you truly anchor a scene in an actual moment, giving your reader a sharper experience of being there.
The Over-Research Trap
On the other hand (because there’s always an other hand): research can become a very good way to avoid writing.
It’s easy to tell yourself you need one more archive search, one more phone call to a relative, one more afternoon with old photo albums before you can dive into your first draft. While some research is important, it can be a stall—a comfortable, productive-feeling way to stay in preparation mode instead of facing the page head-on.
Rule of thumb: Your research should serve the writing, not replace it. If you notice you’re a month into “just checking a few facts” and haven’t opened your manuscript, that’s worth noting. Researching on a need-to-know basis might be the solution. Look up what you need for one scene, then write the scene.
We can’t rewrite time we spend not writing.
You Know … Moderation in All Things
At some point, you have to close the archive and open the manuscript. Research can go on indefinitely—there’s always one more letter to find, one more relative to call. But your story isn’t in the research. It’s inside you, in what you lived, how those events changed you. And, importantly, in what you do with all of that once you sit down to write. Do the digging your story actually needs, then trust yourself to write it.
If you’re have questions about how much research a memoir needs—or any other aspects of the memoir-writing process—I can help. Visit my contact page, and let’s connect. You might also be interested in my books: Plotting Your Novel with the Plot Clock and Jamie Helps Mel Write a Novel.