Memoir Writing: Finding the Line Between Honesty and Overshare

Of all the genres I edit, memoir is the one I find myself coming back to again and again. Not just as an editor, but as a reader and a human being. There’s something uniquely intimate and generous about memoir. It’s a form that doesn’t just tell a story; it offers the writer’s inner world for consideration. It peels back the layers, not to shock or perform, but to connect. Memoir is about truth - subjective, personal, and deeply felt - and the brave act of shaping that truth into something coherent and resonant.

Maybe I love memoir so much because it aligns with how I think about life. It’s never just about what happened. It’s about what it meant. That, I believe, is what sets memoir apart, and what makes editing it such a delicate and rewarding task.

Memoir is not autobiography (and it’s not therapy, either)

One of the most common misconceptions I see is the idea that memoir is simply ‘a life story.’ But autobiography and memoir are very different things. While an autobiography is comprehensive, a chronological walk through a life, memoir is selective. It zooms in on a particular theme, period, or emotional thread. It’s curated. Intentional.

That’s where editorial guidance becomes essential. When I work on a memoir, one of the first things I look for is scope. Is the narrative too broad? Is the writer trying to fit too much in? Are there whole subplots or secondary characters that could be let go? Editing memoir is often about helping a writer narrow the lens; to find the emotional core of the story and commit to it.

It’s also not therapy. That doesn’t mean memoir can’t be healing, because it often is. But therapy is private. Memoir, by contrast, is crafted with the reader in mind. The best memoirs invite reflection, not just confession. The difference lies in structure, shape, and narrative purpose.

Overshare is not the same as honesty

Memoir writing asks for vulnerability, but not exposure for its own sake. There’s a fine line between honesty and overshare, and it’s one of the most important things to navigate in revision.

Overshare can alienate the reader. It can make them feel like they’re intruding on something too raw, too unresolved. Honesty, on the other hand, offers insight. It creates space - for resonance, recognition, even healing - because it’s considered, thought through and contextualised.

As an editor, my job is to help the writer protect the emotional integrity of their story while ensuring it lands. That means asking questions like:

• What is the purpose of including this detail?

• Has enough time passed for this story to offer perspective?

• Is this moment doing narrative work, or is it just being told because it happened?

Memoir is about offering, not offloading.

Memoir is crafted, not just remembered. Editing brings structure, pacing, and intention to your most personal work.

Memoir needs narrative shape, and that can take time

Even the most powerful personal stories need shape. Memoir isn’t a diary entry (though it might start that way). It’s a crafted experience. The best ones read almost like novels: with an arc, turning points, and emotional pacing. There’s a ‘before,’ a ‘middle,’ and an ‘after.’ And most importantly, there’s movement.

The most common problem I see in memoir manuscripts is stalling in the middle. A narrative that starts strong but meanders in the centre before suddenly wrapping up. This is rarely a writing issue; it’s usually a structure issue. The writer knows what they want to say, but they haven’t yet found the clearest path through.

In my manuscript critique service, I look closely at this. I offer feedback on the flow, coherence, and pacing of the story - identifying where a chapter might be doing too little or too much, and where the structure could be clarified to better serve the memoir’s emotional arc.

You don’t need a rigid framework; memoirs aren’t formulaic. But there is usually a shape already emerging beneath the surface. My role is to help you spot it, strengthen it, and build around it with purpose.

Don’t rush the writing (Or the revising).

Memoir often takes longer than people expect. That’s partly because memory is slippery, and the work of reflection requires space. But it’s also because revising memoir can mean re-seeing yourself, which isn’t always easy.

If you’re stuck in revision, consider taking a break from the manuscript. Go back to the early spark that made you want to tell this story. Ask yourself: what am I really trying to say? Then come back to the page with that clarity. A fresh draft doesn’t mean you failed, it means you’re getting closer.

Sometimes the most powerful edits in memoir come not from fixing the words, but from reconnecting to the why.

Final Thoughts

If you’re writing a memoir, you’re already doing something brave. You’re translating lived experience into a form that can speak to others. That’s no small thing, and it doesn’t mean you have to go it alone.

An editor’s role is to support you through that journey - to help you shape, clarify, and elevate the story only you can tell. If you’re ready for that stage, I’d be honoured to help.

If you’re working on a memoir and wondering whether the structure is holding it back, my manuscript critique service could be the next step. Or, send me a message and let’s work together.