How Long Should a Memoir Be?

Is this your memoir?

How long should a memoir be?

That’s the million-dollar question. It must be. Someone asks a variation of it at least once a week in a Facebook memoir group I’m in. I hate to see this question; the only thing I hate more are the most common answers:

• As long as it needs to be.

• As many words as it takes.

• Long enough to tell your story.

I honestly believe these answers are not meant to be flippant; I think they’re meant as kind, encouraging advice. But these answers are not only unhelpful, they are misleading.

As a book editor who has chosen to specialize in memoir, I always try to interject guidance into the conversation by giving a specific word-count range that is in line with publishing industry standards. I often include a link to such information. Then, the disagreements start.

Poo industry standards, they might say (or something along those lines). No one should tell you how many words your own story should be. Well, that’s true if you do not intend to publish in any form ever or if you don’t care whether your memoir sells after it is published. If those two circumstances do not apply to you, read on.

What is the Recommended Length of a Memoir?

Like any subject, thanks to Google, you can find any answer to any question that suits your needs. When I asked the question “How long should a memoir be?” in a Google search, it produced more than 89,800,000 results. Are they all the same answer? Of course not. But if you go with the credible results—publishing houses, indie publishers, memoir authors, editor and writer associations, book coaches, and agents—a common answer emerges: approximately 80,000 words. Or as few as 60,000 and as many as 100,000. There are outliers, of course, like 40,000 to 140,000. But 60K to 100K is the acceptable range. I always tell people that about 80,000 words, give or take 10,000, is a good target.

In an utterly unscientific survey conducted by me over the course of about four minutes, I found that, remarkably, several fairly recent bestselling memoirs (all by politicians or celebrities of one kind or another) contained 352 pages. That must be some kind of magic industry number. In any event, at 250 words per page (another industry standard), that comes to 88,000 words. Now if, let’s just say, Will Smith can write an 88,000-word memoir, I think you and I should be able to.

Why Does an Acceptable Length Matter?

As I said earlier, you can write a 250,000-word memoir if you feel you need to. Some folks in that Facebook group have written that many and are still writing. You can produce a 10-pound tome if it brings you satisfaction or catharsis. But these are the questions to ask yourself if you intend to publish (self-, hybrid, or traditional):

Who will want to read this long memoir about me? (Spoiler alert: very few people.)

How much will it cost to self-publish? (Spoiler alert: a lot.)

How much will I need to charge for it to recoup my expenses and make a profit? (Spoiler alert: a whole lot.)

Will a hybrid or traditional publisher want it at this length? (Spoiler alert: no.)

But, let’s pretend. . . How much would it cost a hybrid publisher to print it and what will they need to charge for it to recoup their expenses and make a profit for them and me? (Spoiler alert: way, way too much.)

Working with a Publisher

I am a manuscript assessor for a hybrid publisher in Texas. I read nonfiction and creative nonfiction manuscripts and write detailed reports about their pros and cons, including whether the word count is too slight or too extensive for the topic and genre. If either is the case, I then recommend that an editor work with the author to either bulk up the material or cut text to bring the manuscript to within industry standards for the genre. If I were to read a memoir that is 150,000 words in length, I would recommend a substantive edit, in which an editor works with the author to narrow the focus of the memoir and delete material that is not relevant to the specified theme.

It doesn’t matter how perfect or brilliant each word is—that is not a length for a memoir that will be marketable. Period.

Memoir is NOT Autobiography

I can’t stand another discussion about the difference between memoir and autobiography without wanting to regurgitate. Please don’t present me with the Oxford English Dictionary definition of memoir. The dictionary definition is not how memoir is defined by twenty-first century publishers. If you want to write an autobiography—or a family history— feel free, but don’t call it a memoir. A publisher will not consider it a memoir. I quoted Marion Roach Smith in my May 2020 blog post “How to Choose a Memoir Theme":

A memoir is not about you. It’s about something and you are its illustration.

A memoir is a story about something you know after something you’ve been through.

Dear folks, that is the definition of memoir from a publishing point of view. A memoir is a story from a life, not the story of a life.

Don't Ramble: A Theme Will Keep You Focused

And as I’ve discussed in my blog several times, the best way—maybe the only way—to stay focused is to have a clearly defined theme. In my blog post “Writing Memoir: Avoid These Common Mistakes,” I chose this as Memoir Writing Mistake #1: Trying to cover too much. I know from working as a writing coach and as a memoir editor, if you just start writing a memoir without a theme, it’s like going on a cross-country trip without an itinerary or GPS.

What is a theme? It’s a one- or two-sentence answer to the question, “What is your memoir about?” Yes, one or two sentences. That’s it. To understand this better, read “How to Choose a Memoir Theme.”

In addition, you should know who you’re writing for and what you hope they will learn from reading your memoir. Again, if you can’t pinpoint your audience and the reason you are writing a memoir, you will meander and overwrite, which will make for an unsatisfying, pointless read.

Final Thoughts

Memoir is not the same as autobiography.

A memoir theme is a one- or two-sentence answer to the question, “What’s it about?”

Decide who your memoir audience is. Keep them in mind while you write.

What’s the takeaway? What will your readers have learned when they’ve finished your book?

Happy writing!

Writing Memoir: Avoid These Common Mistakes

Oh dear! Such a mess.

You’d like to write a memoir. You’ve been thinking about it for a year or more. You’ve been journaling for years or just writing down family stories as you remember them. You’ve been through trauma or pain and come out on the other side. And now you desire to turn these memories and experiences into a memoir.

Great! Let's do this! But when the memoir writing process begins, it often comes as a surprise that this creative nonfiction genre is more akin to fiction than nonfiction. Think about it. There’s a main character—you. And supporting characters—friends, family, co-workers, doctors, ministers. There’s a plot—something you’ve learned after something you’ve been through. And suddenly, turning your personal journey into an engaging book seems a little trickier.

Four mistakes that often throw first-time memoir writers for a loop:

1. Trying to cover too much

2. Struggling with tense

3. Faking your voice

4. Striking the wrong tone

1. Trying to cover too much

Without question, this is the most common mistake first-time memoir writers make. Notice I did not say “writing too much.” This problem is not too many words or too many pages. I said “trying to cover too much.” The remedy is not to “write less.” What is?

To combat this mistake, I first want to remind you that a memoir is not an autobiography. An autobiography is intended to cover the whole of the author’s life from birth up to the time of the writing, with the primary purpose to tell you everything about the author.

A memoir serves a different purpose. Odd as it might sound, a memoir isn’t about the author. A memoir is about something and the author is its illustration—an episode or series of related episodes in the author’s life that results in personal growth, self-revelation, knowledge, or wisdom.

How does a memoir writer end up writing too much? Face it, some writers are just plain verbose. Why say in two words what you could say in twenty? But, truthfully, that’s not the most common reason, this is: not having a clear, focused theme for their memoir.

What is the theme of a memoir? To put it as simply as possible, it is the answer to the question, “What is it about?” I know what you’re thinking—that sounds like the plot or storyline. No, that’s why this is tricky. Here’s an example of a storyline:

Growing up in a home with an overworked, single mom and as the sister of four, rambunctious, older brothers, who all led lives of crime and did time in prison.

That’s the story. So, what’s the theme?

How watching each of my four brothers make bad choices with their lives emboldened me to become a social worker and help others avoid that path.

Can you see the distinction? If you don’t have a clearly defined theme, which serves as signposts on your memoir journey, you can find yourself wandering aimlessly throughout the entirety of your life. With a clearly defined theme—the lesson you learned from the experiences of your life—your writing stays on track and will impart your life lessons to your readers.

2. Struggling With Tense

An issue that new memoir writers often ask about is tense. The three basic tenses are past, present, and future—I wrote, I write, I will write—and I’ll leave it at that so this doesn’t become a grammar lesson.

Remember, a memoir is not an autobiography. The most boring memoirs are those that are 100% chronological. Moving elegantly backward and forward through time is the hallmark of an interesting memoir, but it’s also where newbie memoir writers get tripped up. Here is a rule: there must always be a now. Your now tells your readers where and when you are in your life, the place and time of your life from which you are writing the memoir. No matter how you time travel, you must always return to your now.

When you write about what has already happened in your life, use the past tense. Writing about the past in the past tense makes obvious sense and is the way people would naturally talk when sharing a memory. And you can share a memory within a memory. You can share a related story from 1973 as a memory within a story from 1994.

Use the present tense to comment on the past. Come back to your now to reflect, analyze, ponder, and discuss the feelings you have now about these memories. This, too, is how people would talk in every-day conversation.

One more word of advice: Don’t interject present-tense comments into the recollection of an event; it breaks the flow of the storytelling. Finish your reminiscence then return to the now and reflect.

3. Faking Your Voice

Voice and tone are intrinsically connected in memoir. They are different but they must work in unison for your writing to resonate with your readers. Let’s discuss voice first.

Voice is like your fingerprint. Each of us has a voice when we speak aloud. It is our style of speaking—our own unique vocabulary, our own way of ordering our words, and our unique inflections (the rhythm of our speech).

Where most first-time memoirists fail is in their choice of voice. This is due, in large part, to the idea that our writing must sound somehow more academic or flowery or complex than our every-day speech. Nothing could be further from the truth with most forms of writing but especially with memoir. Authenticity, truthfulness, and honesty should reign supreme in the telling of a life’s story. Use your own unique voice. Be present as yourself in your memoir!

The voice of your memoir must correspond with the tone.

4. Striking the Wrong Tone

The tone of a piece of writing is the mood the writing creates—lighthearted, somber, triumphant, grateful, aggrieved, and so on. The tone is the pervasive feeling your audience will have while reading your memoir. Your story might be one of painful, dark, or frightening experiences. But that does not mean your tone must be dark nor your voice heavy.

Tone can change within a memoir; fearful and uncertain in memories, brave and resolute in the now.

As you think about your voice, consider your audience. If you have been through adversity, pain, or trauma—and who hasn’t—is darkness the tone you wish to present throughout? If you have matured, become wiser, gained self-knowledge and self-confidence through your experiences, adopt a tone of triumph and empowerment when you return to the now. Present yourself, the author of this memoir, to your audience from the point of view of the person who have become, not the person you were.

Be Genuine, Be Kind

Readers know when they’re being deceived. Don’t adopt a tone of self-congratulation or self-aggrandizement. Don’t rant and rave, and never, ever, seek revenge through a memoir. Step forth as mature, empathetic, and wiser. These are the elements of an enjoyable memoir.

Sensitivity Readers: An Editing Specialty Comes of Age

We are a nation rich in diversity.

In June 2019, I posted an article to this blog called "Sensitivity Readers Are Not Censors." At that time, controversy was swirling around the role and appropriateness of the so-called sensitivity reader (SR). I had a hard time finding clear, positive discussions of what an SR was and what one does. Even the prestigious New York Times ran that article titled “In an Era of Online Outrage, Do Sensitivity Readers Result in Better Books, or Censorship?” by Alex Alter that was as unflattering as you could get about SRs.

This go-round, I will tell you what SRs actually do and why now, a mere year and a half later, the need for writers and publishers to employ SRs is the norm and not the exception.

SRs Aren’t Going Away

The Chicago Manual of Style weighed in on these issues in Section 5.254: Bias and the editor’s responsibility. It says in part:

A careful editor points out to authors any biased terms or approaches in the work (knowing, of course, that the bias may have been unintentional), suggests alternatives, and ensures that any biased language that is retained is retained by choice.

Conscious Language

Conscious language is a term coined by Conscious Style Guide founder Karen Yin. According to Yin, conscious language is the art of using words effectively in a specific context. Who is your audience? What tone and level of formality do you want? What are you trying to achieve? Some words are more apt than others. The most important part of conscious language is the conscious part—our intention.

Conscious Style Guide described itself as:

…the first website devoted to conscious language. Our mission is to help writers and editors think critically about using language—including words, portrayals, framing, and representation—to empower instead of limit. In one place, you can access style guides covering terminology for various communities and find links to key articles debating usage. We study words so that they can become tools instead of unwitting weapons.

Yin’s website is replete with resources from scores of other websites (divided into sensitivity categories), a newsletter, blog, and, of course, the obligatory store.

What Sensitivity Readers Offer

Crystal Shelley is a full-time editor, proofreader and sensitivity reader who works as Rabbit with a Red Pen. In addition, Crystal is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW).

According to Crystal, authors, editors, and publishers employ sensitivity readers to accomplish four goals:

• Strengthen the story

• Identify potential harmful elements of the writing

• Assess the effectiveness of the language

• Evaluate biases

While the role of a sensitivity reader is most often associated with editing fiction, an SR’s specialty is applicable to all forms of writing, including blogs, memoirs, and long-form essays. Sensitivity readers strengthen writing by helping the writer with these elements:

• Character description

• Dialogue and character behaviors

• Cultural elements and settings

The role of an SR is to flag problems with language, but, most importantly, they will offer alternative language and depictions.

How can a sensitivity reader strengthen writing? An SR reads with the goal of rooting out language that is:

• Disrespectful

• Excluding

• Stigmatizing

• Presumptive

Writing that is devoid of harmful, derogatory, and disrespectful language builds trust; readers can see the author cared enough to do their homework.

Diversity Baseline Survey

Lee & Low Books released the first Diversity Baseline Survey 1.0 in 2015. Before the DBS, people suspected publishing had a diversity problem, but without hard numbers, the extent of that problem was anyone’s guess. The goal was to survey publishing houses and review journals to capture information about their employees, their publishing workforce, regarding these categories:

• Race

• Gender

• Sexual orientation

• Disability (chronic, physical, and mental illness)

The results of DBS 1.0 were shocking. The publishers' survey respondents were identified as:

• 79 percent White

• 78 percent women

• 88 percent straight

• 92 percent non-disabled

As readers had begun to demand to see themselves depicted in books, the publishing industry itself did not reflect the diversity of our country's populace.

The numbers provided by DBS 1.0 brought into sharp focus the need of publishers to place more books into the marketplace that represent our country's rich diversity, but initially, this effort was apparent only in the children's book market. Cultural events and political and social movements in the five years since the DBS 1.0 cannot be ignored by the industry.

Diversity in Publishing Matters

According to a Lee and Low blog article from January 2020, the book industry has the power to shape culture in big and small ways. The people behind the books serve as gatekeepers, who can make a huge difference in determining which stories are amplified and which are shut out. If the people who work in publishing are not a diverse group, how can diverse voices truly be represented in its books?

Are You Out of Step?

If you do not grasp the importance of diversity in writing, and the need to accurately and kindly represent people of different races, genders, orientation, and disabilities, you are out of step with the US publishing industry. One could argue you are out of step with humanity. If a discussion of sensitivity to “the other” in your writing doesn’t speak to your heart, I am reminded of a quote from Dr. Anthony Fauci:

I don’t know how to explain to you that you should care for other people.