Family Stories, Memoir, Biography--What's the Difference?

Both readers and writers sometimes get confused about the difference between family stories, memoirs, biographies, and autobiographies. They're all about peoples' lives, aren't they? Yes, but there are also distinct differences in the four. In addition, they are all nonfiction.

Family Stories:  These are pieces of family history. Each individual story tells about a person and/or event. You might be writing about your grandfather who came to America on a ship in 1925. Or about your grandmother who had the biggest vegetable garden in the county. Or maybe your Aunt Nellie whose wedding was ruined by a tornado. Or your great-aunt Olivia who did animal impersonations. Or about Uncle Henry who suffered from depression. These stories will give younger and future family members a picture of their extended family or ancestors. They are usually written for the family to read, not for publication. Although, the person writing the family stories can assemble them into a book. They need not be chronological. Assemble them any way you want to. Occasionally, a family story can be submitted to a magazine or anthology, but that is not the number one aim.

Biography:  It's a look at a person's life from birth to the present or when death occurred. Another person writes the life story after interviews and research. Biographies are usually about a historical figure or a celebrity--a known name. We often read biographies of a person we've admired and would like to know more about his/her life. Authors of biographies want publication

Autobiography:  This kind of book is basically the same as a biography, but it is written by a person about his/her own life. To me, it feels more personal and appears that the reader is able to see the writer's own thoughts and feelings about the events in that person's life from birth to the present. Again, the author hopes for publication.

Memoir:  Memoir can be divided into two categories--long and short. The long, of course, is a full book while the short can be a 1000 word piece. Memoirs are narrower in scope than a biography. Instead of relating the story of a life in chronological order, it focuses on a situation, a problem, or a relationship. It is limited to a phase or time period and is based on feelings and memories. Memoir books appear to be quite popular today. For some reason, readers enjoy being privy to the life of another person, to see what obstacles they faced and how they did so. Short memoir pieces work well for anthologies like Chicken Soup for the Soul or for contests. Those who write memoirs are striving for publication. 

Truth In Memoir

Linda Strader

Our Guest Blogger today has written a memoir about firefighting with the U.S. Forest Service in the mountains near Tucson, AZ. Today, she addresses the topic of truth in memoir. 

WRITING MEMOIR: THE TRUTH, AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH?

Who knew that I’d be writing a multitude of articles about memoirs at this time in my life? Who knew my memoir would actually find a publisher! Ten years ago if someone had predicted I would write a memoir, I would have laughed at them. I was not a writer!

However, for a multitude of reasons, I wrote my memoir, not knowing about memoir writing rules, or guidelines…in fact, not knowing how to write a story—period.

“Isn’t a ‘story’ fiction?” you may ask. It may seem like a no-brainer, but based on my experiences, many memoir writers don’t understand that a memoir is not much different from a novel (fiction). Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t understand that either at first. However, there is one major difference: a memoir is true. Fiction is, well, not-true.

Of course, fiction can be based on a true event, but when does nonfiction become fiction?

This is where much confusion abounds. Are you like me and expect a memoir to be true? Or are you okay with it being partially true, and assume that the author probably added some embellishments? Would knowing that the author embellished critical components of the story upset you? What if you thought the whole time you were reading the book that it was all true and really happened the way the author portrayed the events, only to find out later you’d been duped? That only bits and pieces were true, and the rest had been fabricated to make the story more interesting? Would you be angry? I would be. That’s fiction, not nonfiction.

This has actually happened. When author James Frey couldn’t sell his semi-fictional book, A Million Little Pieces, he republished it as a memoir. Voila! It became a best seller…until he got caught. Millions of readers were furious! Oprah Winfrey grilled him on her show and removed him from her book club, escalating the uproar. The controversy behind his deception lingers today.

Okay, so maybe your intention is not to do what Mr. Frey did, but what about tweaking events in your memoir to make it more interesting? Is that acceptable? To make a memoir read like a novel, dialog sure helps. How do you handle dialog, when obviously you can’t remember everything that was said verbatim? Is it acceptable to ad-lib? These are all good questions.

Naturally, you can’t remember everything, and when you write based on memory, there will be discrepancies. What I’m talking about is fabricating events, or the severity of events, in an attempt to make it a better story. I completely agree with The Great Courses’ instructor of Writing Creative Nonfiction, Dr. Tilar J. Mazzeo, Ph.D., that “making stuff up” in order for the story to be more interesting is wrong. As for dialog, of course, you won’t remember every word. But my guess is you remember how that conversation made you feel, and how you reacted. That is more important than the words themselves.

This is how I see it: if you have a good story and work hard at writing it well and creatively, you don’t need to fabricate anything to make it more interesting. I read this not too long ago: the more personal and honest the memoir, the more universal it becomes. The more universal the memoir is, the more people can relate to it. How simple is that?

Bio:  Originally from Syracuse, New York, Ms. Strader moved to Prescott, Arizona with her family in 1972. In 1976, she became one of the first women on a U.S. Forest Service fire crew in the Santa Rita Mountains south of Tucson.

Summers of Fire: A Memoir of Adventure, Love and Courage is her first book, released on May 1^st, 2018 by Bedazzled Ink Publishing. She is working on a prequel.

In addition to writing, Ms. Strader is a landscape architect, certified arborist, and watercolor artist. She currently lives in the same area where her Forest Service career began.

Blog address: https://summersoffirebook.blogspot.com/

Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/LindaStraderauthor

Twitter: @desertplantlove

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Summers-Fire-Memoir-Adventure-Courage-ebook/dp/B07BKT5PST

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Summers-Fire.../dp/B07BKT5PST

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/summers-of-fire-linda-strader/1127073115?ean=9781945805660

Wars and Rumors of Wars--A Three Part Look At The Past--Part 2

Today, we have Part 2 of Wanda's interesting memoir. She was frail physically but so very sharp mentally and kept writing well into her 90's. Today's post reveals what life was like during the WWII years. Please share with others who might find this memoir piece of interest. 

Part 2:

“And ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars...For nation shall rise against nation, & kingdom against kingdom." (Matthew 24:6,7)

WARS AND RUMORS OF WARS--Part 2--WWII

There have been many books written and stories told about World War II. It is a temptation to write of fascinating stories I have heard, but for this post I will limit my writing to memories of some of my own experiences during the war years. I was teaching school in Jefferson, IA, at the time of the Pearl Harbor attack in 1941 and was engaged to be married to Herbert Bates, a doctoral candidate in Chemical Engineering at Iowa State University in Ames. After his graduation we married in l942 and moved to Cleveland, OH, where he was an instructor in the Navy V 12 program at Case School of Applied Science.

Women were urged to find jobs and I volunteered at a nursery school and was soon employed there. I rode a streetcar at 5:30 AM to a church where the school was held. We opened at 6:00 AM so the mothers could bring their children to us and get to a 7:00 AM job. Many women were working in wartime industries. We cared for children as young as two years old. They seemed like babies, and many of them cried bitterly as their mothers departed, but in almost all cases the tears would stop instantly, once the door closed behind the mother. One little girl was extremely upset and sometimes threw up after she arrived, but her mother’s comment was that she just had to adjust since the mother had to have a job. The children were given breakfasts of cereal, fruit, and milk at around 8:00 o’clock and lunch at noon. In the afternoon they lay down on cots for naps and later had afternoon snacks. We stayed open until 6:00 PM to accommodate the working mothers. Two very kind black ladies, Hallie and Lottie, prepared the food and did cleaning chores and sometimes gave some TLC to troubled little folks. When I first started working at the nursery I would often fall asleep at night with visions of milk coursing along a table, for nearly every day some child would spill his milk. We had to be aware of food allergies. We weren’t always sure whether the allergies were real but we couldn’t argue with a child who shouted, “I’m ‘lergic to green beans.”

New children needed special attention. I remember a little boy who held onto my pinkie finger and walked around with me for awhile each morning until he decided he was interested in the toys and could let go of my finger.

One father, a policeman, would sometimes phone early in the morning and ask us to tell his wife when she arrived to drop off a child that he was home safe from a night patrol. We later left the church and moved to a school building where space was available for the daycare we were providing.

There were many scarcities during the war. We tried to follow the motto “Use it up. Wear it out. Make it do. Do without.” Food was often hard to find. I remember trying to buy meat and finding only liver available but observing a large package which looked like meat being brought out of a back room and handed to a customer. On one occasion at a grocery store I asked if there were any chocolate chips available and was told “No.” Later, as I was checking out my groceries the clerk quietly slipped a package of chocolate chips into my bag and said, “Next time don’t ask so loud.” People were quick to grab things when they were available and, in spite of pleas to the contrary, there was lots of hoarding. I was able to use a washing machine in the basement of a friend and I was surprised to see many boxes of soap on cupboard shelves there. We had ration books for such items as sugar and gasoline. We often stood in lines to get the ration books or to buy various items. We bought war bonds when we could afford them.

Clothing was also hard to find. I made a suit for myself out of a discarded suit of my husband’s which still had enough unworn area that a woman’s suit could be made from it. Men’s suits came with two pairs of pants in those days and the leg pieces made panels for a skirt. Skirts were short but the jackets which were made from the men’s coats were fairly long. Following the war, when the styles changed and skirts became longer, women added pieces of fabric at the waistline to make the skirt longer. This trick could be hidden by the long jacket.

On one occasion a friend was delighted to buy a banana as they were rarely found in the stores. She planned to feed it to her baby. However, she had an unexpected dinner guest so she hastily put some fruits, including the banana, in a basket and used that as a centerpiece on her table. The guest, seeing the banana, cried out as he reached for it, “Oh, a banana. Wonderful! I haven’t had a banana for a long time,” as he promptly peeled it and ate it. A story was told of a man carrying a couple of eggs in his shirt pocket while riding a streetcar and meeting with disaster in the crowded car.

Many people rode the streetcars as gas was very scarce. Since my husband’s car had completely given out, we were among the riders. On some weekend mornings we rode a streetcar at 5:00 AM to a farmers’ market to buy lugs of peaches or pears for home canning. 

After I became pregnant it was necessary for me to give up the job at the nursery school. When it was time for our son to be born, a friend who still had a working car, drove us to the hospital at 3:00 AM.

Trains were very crowded as they were often used for transporting service men, but my husband’s mother was able to find space to come to Cleveland to help out with the care of the new baby.

Of course there was great sadness and worry during the war. We grieved as we heard of casualties and said many prayers for the safety of relatives and friends who were on active duty and for all the troops everywhere. A funeral service for a young service man was held in the church where we had formerly had the nursery. He was buried on the day when he was to have been married. One news story told of the death of a soldier at Omaha Beach and the subsequent premature births and the deaths of twins which his wife had been carrying. The news man added the comment, “There’s a girl to remember in your prayers.” 

People tried to be in good spirits and to endure the inconveniences without complaint “for the duration.” (A common expression during the war years.) Some popular songs of the era were “Don’t Sit under the Apple Tree (with anyone else but me),” “I’ll be Home for Christmas,” and “I’ll Be Seeing You.” A memorable movie was “The Best Years of Our Lives.”

When the conflicts finally ended, great joy and relief were felt on VE day (Victory in Europe) in May and VJ day (Victory in Japan) in August, 1945. Crowds lined the streets in jubilation. I took our 6-month-old baby out in his carriage on VJ day and we joined the crowd, with him adding to the celebration by shaking his rattle. 

(To be continued)

A Memoir Book I'd Recommend

A few weeks ago, an author wrote to me and said he'd like to send me three of his books. Being the reader and interested writer that I am, I accepted with pleasure. T. L. Needham didn't ask me to review any of the books, just said he'd like to send them. Within days, I'd received When I Was A Child, Pesky Poems, and Kitty Claus. The first is a memoir, the second a book of poetry and the third a Christmas story for small children. 

I've read all three now but the one I want to talk about today is the memoir. To begin with, the title of the book intrigued me as did the cover. Was this a memoir of the author's childhood and no farther into his life than that? The cover also showed 4 awards the book had won:

1.  Finalist USA Book News Best Book Awards

2.  Bronze Readers Favorite Award

3.  2013 Global Book Awards--Gold Medal History/Nonfiction

4.  2013 Global Book Awards Honorable Mention Best Book Cover

I was surprised when I started reading that the memoir is not about the author at all. Instead, it centers on his uncle, Louis Pfeifer. The story begins during theAllied invasion of France during WWII. Louis is a paratrooper who lands safely only to soon be captured by German troops. He spends the remainder of the war in a prison camp. The story jumps back and forth from that period to Louis's childhood which is filled with tragedy, sadness and, in spite of it, great bonds of love amongst his siblings. They all grew up in Hays, Kansas and the surrounding area. Louis's mother froze to death in a blizzard when he was only two years old, the youngest child in the Pfeifer family. His sister, Jerry, only a year older, became his protector, The close bond they formed during the tragedy lasted a lifetime. The family went through Depression era troubles, tornados, deaths, incest, a court trial and more. Louis and Jerry spent time in a Catholic orphanage while the older siblings found themselves on their own at very early ages. 

I started the book late one evening and was hooked so quickly that I stayed up too late that night. It's a fascinating story. Terry Needham does a fine job in moving from the WWII prison camp to the flashbacks of Louis's growing-up years. He weaves the two seamlessly and it is easy to see why the book one the Reader's Favorite award. 

I had one minor criticism, which doesn't take the reader out of the story at all. Some of the information is repeated when it's not necessary to do so. The reader would remember what is being told more than once. Believe me, it is a small flaw in a fine book. 

I write short memoir pieces but would like to do a booklength memoir someday. A good way to do that is to read other memoir books to get a good feel for the ways in which they can be done. If you have any interest in writing in this genre, I'd recommend this book. And if you never intend to write a memoir at all, I'd still recommend When I Was A Child as a fine read. It held my interest from start to finish. You can read more about it at Amazon. My thanks to Terry Needham for sharing his family's story with me.