Kia ora from the rain drenched top of the South Island, New Zealand!
My family came through the weather events safely, with only a few leaks here and there, plus I got stuck on the other side of the Tākaka Hill for a night when eight landslides closed it! But I’m aware that many didn’t come through so easily, with one life being tragically lost and many more dealing with massive property damage.
Today I want to speak to you about the deepest ‘why’ behind your choice to write your memoir. You can express this ‘why’ in the first few pages of your book, in your dedication.
Here’s a beautiful one. It’s right at the start of a three book series my team and I are currently editing, illustrating and designing for a client:
I write –
For my children, their children,
and all those who come after.
If only my parents had spoken of their times.
Their history, our lineage – reduced to names on a page.
I will not let silence steal our story.
I love this. I love the direct message to his children and grandchildren. And the signal that it’s his intention to speak honestly, in his book.
What would you write in your dedication? How would you express your deepest ‘why’? I invite you to write it and let it guide your story.
Charlotte x
PS if you’d like to learn how to write your story, or if you’d like help writing, editing it, or turning it into a book you can share with your friends and family, I can help! Check out the info below ⬇️
But first … Your words! Here’s 140 words from Cathy Monnington’s memoir. She’s a loyal reader of this newsletter.
Granny stood 5 ft 1 inches in her stocking feet, was of average build, with dark brown hair parted down the side and styled in a short bob. She dressed in skirt, blouse and cardigan, never trousers. She wore “sensible shoes” with a smallish heel or flat shoes, “ground grippers” as she referred to them. She strode through life with her back straight and her chin up. Her skin was fine, fair and flawless, adorned with a little face powder and a dash of lipstick, soap, water, nivea or ponds cold cream completed her beauty regime. Her fabulous shapely legs which belied her age and were encased year-round in sheer nylon stockings held aloft by suspenders. She spoke with a “no nonsense” North of England tone but frequently reverted to her natural Scottish brogue dotted with the odd Gaelic words.
Charlotte Squire 