![The template open in Strokes: a banner picture of an old oak tree with a wooden swing in a golden meadow, above the title “Memoir outline: [Working title]”.](/_next/image?url=%2F_next%2Fstatic%2Fmedia%2Fhero-light.54b0f50f.webp&w=3840&q=75)
![The template open in Strokes: a banner picture of an old oak tree with a wooden swing in a golden meadow, above the title “Memoir outline: [Working title]”.](/_next/image?url=%2F_next%2Fstatic%2Fmedia%2Fhero-dark.9b04d085.webp&w=3840&q=75)
When to use it
- Planning a first memoir before drafting, or rescuing a draft that has lost its shape
- Choosing between a chronological, thematic, braided or framed structure
- Keeping track of the real people in the book and what you decided about each
- Turning chapter rows into the chapter summaries of a book proposal
- Linked personal essays or a family history built around one theme
How to use this template
- Write the question first
A memoir outline is a filter before it is a plan. The question at the top decides which years, scenes and people get into the chapter table, so write it before anything else. A topic names a place or a period. A question tells you which of its afternoons matter. If the question will not come, fill in the key scenes first and look at what they have in common.
- Fix the time span, then choose a shape
Open near the moment the question became unavoidable and close when it is answered or changed. Anything earlier is backstory, woven in a paragraph at a time. Then tick one structure.
Chronological order gives momentum to a slice with a strong arc of its own. A thematic book, often built from short vignettes, groups chapters by subject. A braided book alternates two or three strands until they meet. A frame story sets the past inside a present-day story that opens and closes the book. Our guide on how to write a memoir runs one example through all four.
- List the scenes, then build the chapter table
Memoir chapters turn on scenes, so name the turning points before you number anything. Then give each chapter one row. The last column does the most work. If two chapters reveal the same thing, merge them or cut one. A chapter that reveals nothing new is backstory with a chapter title.
The period column shows gaps at a glance. Four chapters in one summer and none in the year that changed everything is a structure problem you can fix before drafting. Later, the same rows become the chapter summaries of a book proposal.
- Keep the people and sources current as you draft
Add each real person when they first appear on the page, with the most private thing the book says about them. Draft freely first. The care decision can wait for revision. Log every memory you mean to check, and record what the evidence says, especially when it disagrees with you.
What a memoir should leave out
Much of an outline's value is in what it keeps off the page. A life holds far more good material than one book can carry, and memoirs that stall are usually trying to carry all of it. Put every candidate scene to one test: does it change what the reader understands about the question, or about you in relation to it? If not, it goes under Left out, with the reason. Writing the reason down stops you from reopening the same cut every month.
| Material | Usually cut | Keep it when |
|---|---|---|
| MaterialChildhood before the story starts | Usually cutA whole opening chapter of it | Keep it whenOne memory explains a choice the reader is watching. Give it a paragraph there. |
| MaterialThree scenes that show the same thing | Usually cutThe two weaker ones | Keep it whenEach one marks a different step in a change |
| MaterialA great story from another decade | Usually cutAll of it, from this book | Keep it whenIt bears directly on the question |
| MaterialEvents you still can't see clearly | Usually cutFor now | Keep it whenYou can write them with reflection, not only reaction |
Two cuts are the hardest. The first is someone else's story. Your brother's divorce or your mother's diagnosis belongs first to them. The memoir can hold what you witnessed and what it did to you, not what they felt in rooms you were never in. The second is the scene you keep to win an old argument. Readers can tell when a scene exists to prove the narrator right, and they stop trusting the narrator. Keep it only if the story needs it, and give the other person the fairness you would want from their book about you.
The question: Can I take care of my mother without becoming her nurse instead of her daughter?
Time span: The past runs from March 2019, the call from the hospital after her fall, to June 2021. Writing from: the day I drive her to her new apartment.
Structure: Frame. That drive opens the book, returns between parts and ends at the first Sunday dinner in her new apartment. The middle runs in order from the hospital call.
- Ch. 2, April 2019. I teach her to use the shower chair and she laughs at me. Reveals: she is still the parent in the room, and I resent it.
- Ch. 5, December 2019. I miss my daughter's school concert to sit in an ER waiting room. Reveals: the caregiving now costs people other than me.
- Ch. 9, February 2021. She asks me to stop checking her pill organizer. Reveals: part of the answer is hers to give, not mine.
Left out: My brother's divorce in 2020. It is his story, and chapter 5 already shows what the caregiving cost the people around me. One line in chapter 6 says he had troubles of his own.
Where to fact-check your memories
Memory reconstructs, so the outline keeps a column for what the record says. Get the year, the weather and the people in the room right, and readers will trust the parts nobody can check. When the record and your memory disagree, the disagreement can go on the page.
| Source | What it settles | Note |
|---|---|---|
| SourceYour photos | What it settlesDates, places, who was there | NoteOriginal files usually store the date taken. Scans and photos saved from messages often don't. |
| SourceEmail, texts, calendars | What it settlesWhat was said, and when | NoteSearch by a person's name and the year |
| SourceJournals and letters | What it settlesWhat you thought at the time | NoteThe best check on hindsight |
| SourceOld newspapers | What it settlesLocal events, weather, prices | NoteChronicling America (Library of Congress) is free but stops at 1963. For later years, ask your library about its newspaper archives. |
| SourceUS census records | What it settlesWho lived in a household | NoteOpened after 72 years. The 1950 census came out in 2022. |
| SourceMilitary personnel records | What it settlesService dates, units, postings | NoteVeterans and next of kin can request them. Others get limited details until 62 years after discharge, then anyone can order the file. |
| SourceFamily and friends | What it settlesTheir version of events | NoteAsk open questions and note where accounts differ |
Frequently asked questions
What is the best structure for a memoir?
The one that puts your question under the most pressure. Chronological order suits a slice with a strong arc of its own. Thematic chapters suit a subject that spans decades. Braiding suits two or three strands that shed light on each other. A frame suits a book with a clear present-day vantage point. Many memoirs combine a frame with a chronological middle.
How detailed should a memoir outline be?
One row per chapter is enough to start: the period, the key scene and what it reveals. Many memoirists only find out what the book is about while drafting, so treat the outline as a working hypothesis and update it after each chapter instead of perfecting it first.
How is a memoir outline different from a novel outline?
A novel outline invents events to serve a plot. A memoir outline selects from events that happened, so it needs things a novel outline does not: a record of what you left out and why, notes on the real people in the book, and a list of sources to check your memory against.
Can I use this outline for a book proposal?
Yes. The question and the time span become the core of the overview, and each row of the chapter table expands into a chapter summary. For a debut memoir, most agents also want the finished manuscript, and requirements vary, so check each agent's submission guidelines before you send anything.
