Writing Memoir

The stylistic and ethical decisions I made

My latest book, The Search, began life as a landscape essay that through circumstance morphed into a memoir. As that transition became apparent, I had not even thought about a life story, I needed to set out some guidelines that I could hang a framework of text on. I wanted to avoid writing an ABC of life story. I wanted the book to be entertaining and thought provoking and that meant dramatising various aspects, what I called real-life-fiction, what others call narrative nonfiction.

This is not a ‘How To’ post. I thought it would be interesting to let people see what was important in the writing of the book. It centers around the work of my mountain rescue search dog, Scout and me. Looking for the lost, missing, injured and vulnerable. How do I write about the often traumatic experiences of others was my first consideration. Secondly, how do you sensitively dramatise search and rescue work and avoid producing a training manual or traumatising readers. These were ethical and stylistic questions. The ethics of writing about such a subject became the central core around which all else was built. Dramatisation would be used but it would not transgress the ethical root.

The first decision was people, places, and things. Who was I going to mention? Obviously myself and Scout, my partner Alison, it would be nonsense to make those anonymous. Some readers have commented that there are so few people mentioned in the book. This was both a stylistic and ethical decision. I Wanted the focus to be on myself and Scout, my Border collie dog. There were many people involved, too many to put on the page and not clog up the narrative. Plus, some interactions with some people were traumatic, naming people would have shifted the focus of the book. And it was right to preserve the anonymity of the people we had searched for, rescued, or lost their lives, and their families. I felt that was a crucial decision.

In the book there are several turning points. The first major point is after we leave the training group, step into the wilderness for many months, and then find a new mentor and group to train with. This was pivotal in our development and four people were central to the success we had. It marked a very clear dividing line in the story. To underpin that divide and with their approval I made the decision to name them. It is a critical point in the narrative and although there are many trials and tribulations to follow, the focus is increasingly positive.

I also decided not to write about anyone I had not seen for many years or never knew. That included my own family who I had been estranged from for decades and had no way of contacting. I had no knowledge of their current life, what physical and emotional balance they had, other than some publicly available information that did not add to my own story. I decided to write about them unknowingly was not ethical. Similarly, if I wrote about historical events that were well documented I did not mention individuals.

As the story developed, my own story came more to the forefront. How honest should I be? I decided to be as honest as I could be. You have most if not all of me on the page, except when to do so would injure or throw a spotlight on others. You have my alcoholism, you have my mental health problems, the break up of a marriage, the difficult childhood, the difficulty I have interacting with people, the asbestosis that is killing me, my fall into minimum wage work, my suicidal period, the drugs for mental health. And you have my work ethic, my successes, my love for Alison and Scout and our other dogs, my working class background, my corporate success. I hid behind nothing, left nothing out. It makes the narrative simpler. Reasons and actions, the threads that run through the book, become clear. It was a cathartic exercise. If I am dying then I’m not going to hide anymore. I gave the reader all of me.

I also dramatised places we had searched, to protect others, whether they were involved in a search or not. Some places are a collage of many places we worked in and often I use my observations of a place to bring lightness and humour to a story, so long as ethically it is in keeping. This allows the reader to have some downtime, particularly after a traumatic section, it gives them space to breathe and reflect.

The major stylistic decision was not to anthropomorphise the dogs. I tried writing from the dog's point of view but it Disneyfied the whole narrative and the subject matter did not deserve that. But Scout is funny, he has character so I found a way, by writing about the interactions between us to bring Scout to life.

The final ethical decision was that everything had to be my direct experience or documented historically. There was to be no mythology or whispered stories.

I think it worked well. The book has some excellent reviews and I was pleased at the finish.

Take care and good luck.

Paul