“Novel” memoirs

Guest blog by Rachel Michelberg

In the four months since my memoir Crash: How I Became a Reluctant Caregiver was published, I’ve lapped up its praise like a kitten slurping milk (while also cringing at every critique.) My favorite accolade? “It reads like a novel. I couldn’t put it down.” I smile and thank them, secretly thinking well that’s cool, but how did I do that?  I don’t have an MFA in creative writing or any kind of formal training. I certainly didn’t research or ponder how to craft a fiction-like story.  I’m tickled it turned out that way, since fiction – both historical and contemporary – has always been my favorite genre.

My lifelong love of fiction and the novelists to whom I gravitate: Ann Tyler, Anna Quindlen, Anita Shreve, Christina Baker Kline, and yes – Philippa Gregory (my Elizabethan royalty indulgence) were role models. But I wasn’t writing fiction, and I had no idea how to write down my story, my truth. So, I did what any self-respecting newbie does – I took a class. Our first task? Read great memoirs. And we did. The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls, Farm City by Novella Carpenter, The Language of Baklava by Diana Abu-Jaber, The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien (a collection of linked short stories, each one reading like fiction.) I was enchanted. And inspired.

To clarify, I was familiar with the memoir genre. I’d just finished – and loved – Cheryl Strayed’s Wild (in fact Wild was likely the story that motivated me to write my memoir in the first place.) But I was now reading through a different lens. I was reading as a writer. And it became crystal clear that none of these fiction-like memoirs fell into the trap of what some agents and publishers call (and usually reject) the “me-moir,” too much about themselves and their own personal heroes’ journey, or that it’s too confessional. Instead, they felt – and read – like a novel.

So what are some of the elements that make a memoir fiction-like?

·         A universal theme. Inviting the reader to look outward, to ponder common human issues.  Some of my Crash readers have told me that although they didn’t always agree with my decision to reject the role of becoming a caregiver to my estranged husband, they asked themselves “What would I have done in her situation?” Caregiving, its sacrifices and challenges, is a relevant and universal theme faced by so many, especially women. Wild asks readers to ponder physical challenge as a way of coping with grief. Tara Westover’s Educated is a treatise on resilience and the quest for knowledge.

·         A clear, definable arc with a high point and “cooling off” period at the end. Leah Lax, in her brilliant memoir Uncovered, journeys from her attraction to – and joining – the Hasidic community. The story reaches a high point when (spoiler alert) she ultimately decides to leave and cools off as she settles into the truth of her new life.

·         A clear, believable voice. Notice I didn’t say relatable. I had a hard time relating to Tim O’Brien as a draft-dodger and ultimately as a soldier in Vietnam. But the originality and richness of his voice lured me into his head, his experience. I’m told by readers of Crash that they felt like I was just hanging out with them, inviting them into my emotional roller-coaster as it was happening.

·         Musing. Often a challenge for memoirists, who’ve been schooled to “show don’t tell.” But the retrospective voice can greatly enrich the narrative. In The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls muses on her friend’s negative reaction to the homeless (unbeknownst to her friend including Jeanette’s own parents):

I knew I should have stood up for Mom and Dad. I’d been pretty scrappy as a kid, and our family had always fought for one another, but back then we had no choice. The truth was, I was tired of taking on people who ridiculed us for the way we lived. I just didn’t have it in me to argue Mom and Dad’s case to the world.

The techniques I’ve listed are certainly not the only elements in what makes a memoir read like fiction. Add the effective use of scene, dialogue, lots of sensory and time-period appropriate details (I’m sure I’ve missed a few.)

Help me add to my list of must-read novel-like memoirs. What’s your favorite?

Rachel Micheberg grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area and still enjoys living there with her husband, Richard, and their two dogs, Nala and Beenie. She earned her Bachelor of Music degree in vocal performance from San Jose State University and has performed leading roles in musicals and opera from Carmen to My Fair Lady as well as the part of the Mother Abbess (three times!) in The Sound of Music. When Rachel isn’t working with one of her twenty voice and piano students, she loves gardening, hiking, and making her own bone broth. CRASH: How I Became a Reluctant Caregiver is her first book and winner of the 2021 Next Generation Indie Book Award in Memoir, Personal Struggle/Health Issues. Find her online at rachelmichelbergauthor.com