How to Find Your Way Through Your Memoir’s First Draft

Writing a memoir is a bit like hiking a mountain you’ve never climbed before. At first, you’re filled with energy and excitement. The air feels fresh, the view is full of possibility. But as the path winds upward, you hit rocky sections. The climb gets steeper. You may even wonder if you’ve lost your way—or whether you ever should’ve started at all.

If you’re just beginning, stuck in the middle, or unsure how to wrap up your story, take heart—every memoirist faces these moments. Here’s how to find your footing again—wherever you are on the trail. 

If You're Just Getting Started

The beginning of a memoir often feels like standing at the base of a mountain, looking up and thinking, How will I ever climb that?

Start small. You don’t need to know the entire route yet—just your first few steps.

• Pick one vivid memory that still tugs at you. Write that scene. Don’t worry if it’s the “right” place to start your book. What matters is getting words on the page.
  
  
• Write freely and imperfectly. At this stage, your only job is to discover your story—not polish it. The first draft isn’t about perfection; it’s about permission.
  
  
• Create a habit, not a masterpiece. Set a timer for 15–20 minutes a few times a week and call it your “memoir time.” Show up. That’s how books get written.

Think of this phase as finding your rhythm. You’re building trust with yourself as a writer. 

If You’re in the Middle (and It Feels Messy)

Every writer hits a point where the excitement fades and the middle feels like a slog. You’ve got some chapters down, maybe even an outline, but now the story feels heavy, confusing, or dull. This is normal. It means you’re deep in the work of discovery.

When you’re in the thick of it, try this:

• Reconnect with your “why.” Why did you start writing this story? Who are you writing it for? Revisit that purpose; it’s your fuel when momentum fades.
  
  
• Zoom out to see the shape. Make a quick list of your chapters or key scenes so far. Can you see a thread—some transformation, question, or theme tying it together? Naming it can help you stay focused.
  
  
• Let yourself write out of order. If one section stalls, skip ahead. Write the scene that excites you or feels emotionally alive right now. You can always rearrange later.

And if the process feels tedious, remind yourself: you’re not just writing a story—you’re understanding your life in a new way. That’s sacred work. 

When You Lose Focus or Momentum

Somewhere along the way, every memoirist hits a wall. You might doubt your story’s importance, question your voice, or feel like you’re going in circles.

Here’s what to do when that happens:

• Take a pause, not a quit. Step away for a few days. Read your earlier pages with compassion. Often, the spark reignites when you remember how far you’ve come.
  
  
• Refill your creative well. Walk, journal, listen to music, talk to a trusted friend about your story. Inspiration often returns when you reconnect to life beyond the page.
  
  
• Refine your focus. Ask, “What transformation am I tracing here?” Your memoir doesn’t have to cover everything—just the part of your life where change happened.

Momentum comes from meaning. The more you understand why this story matters, the easier it is to keep going. 

Knowing When—and How—to End

One of the hardest questions for any memoirist is, How do I know when I’m done?

The truth is, life keeps going—but your memoir doesn’t have to. You’re not writing your entire biography; you’re writing a story about a specific journey or change.

Here’s how to find your ending:

• Look for the point of insight. Where do you begin to see your life differently? Maybe it’s forgiveness, peace, understanding, or acceptance. That’s often where the story wants to end.
  
  
• End with resolution, not perfection. You don’t need a tidy bow. It’s enough to show that you’re in a new place—emotionally or spiritually—because of what you’ve lived through.
  
  
• Remember, the end of a first draft isn’t the end of your memoir. Finishing a draft means you’ve climbed the mountain once. You’ll refine the trail later. For now, celebrate—you made it to the top. 

Writing your memoir isn’t about producing flawless prose—it’s about telling the truth of your experience, one page at a time. Whether you’re starting, slogging, or finishing, keep this in mind:

Every sentence you write is a step closer to clarity, healing, and connection. Keep going. Your story is worth it—and so are you.

Ready to bring your memories to life? Join The Memoir Room, my free Facebook community for memoir writers. Get support, prompts, and encouragement as you shape your story.