Kate Meadows's Blog

If you’ve ever wondered how to write a memoir, you’re not alone. Memoir writing has grown in popularity as more writers feel compelled to tell personal stories with honesty and purpose. Readers are drawn to real experiences—stories of resilience, transformation, identity, loss, faith, reinvention. They are looking for connection, and a memoir offers exactly that.

But knowing you want to tell your story and knowing how to shape it are two different things.

Whether you’re just beginning to explore memoir writing or you’re deep into a draft, understanding the foundations of the craft will help you move forward with clarity and confidence.

What Is Memoir Writing?

Before diving into how to write a memoir, it’s important to understand what a memoir actually is. Memoir is a form of creative nonfiction that focuses on a specific season, theme, or experience in a person’s life. Unlike autobiography—which attempts to document an entire life chronologically—memoir centers on meaning, and it often covers only a slice of life.

Memoir writing asks not only What happened? but also, Why does it matter?

Strong memoir writers select a focused slice of life and explore it deeply. The goal is not to share every detail but to illuminate a universal truth through personal experience.

Start with a Clear Narrative Focus

One of the first steps in learning how to write a memoir is narrowing your scope. Many first-time memoir writers make the mistake of trying to tell their entire life story. This often leads to a scattered manuscript without a clear throughline.

Instead, identify a central theme:

A season of griefA cross-country moveA career transitionA complicated family relationshipA journey of healing

When your memoir writing revolves around a clear theme, every scene, reflection, and chapter can serve that larger purpose. Focus creates cohesion.

Turn Memories into Scenes

Effective memoir writing relies on scene-building rather than summary. Readers want to feel as though they are inside the moment with you.

As you write your draft, reconstruct experiences using sensory detail:

What did the room look like?What was said?What did you notice first?What emotions were present in your body?

While memory may not provide perfect transcripts, emotional accuracy matters most. Skilled memoir writers recreate scenes in a way that captures the truth of the experience without fabricating events.

Balance Story with Reflection

Understanding how to write a memoir also means recognizing the importance of reflection. A memoir is not simply a collection of journal entries. It is a conversation between your past self and your present self.

Reflection adds depth and insight:

What did you believe at the time?What have you learned since?How did the experience shape who you are today?

Memoir writers use reflection to bridge the gap between lived experience and reader takeaway. This is what transforms personal narrative into meaningful storytelling.

Write with Emotional Honesty

Authenticity is at the heart of memoir writing. Readers connect to vulnerability and sincerity. When you write honestly—without exaggeration or self-protection—your story resonates more deeply.

That said, writing a memoir requires discernment. Consider how others are portrayed and whether identifying details need adjustment. 

Structure Matters

Once you’ve drafted your manuscript, structure becomes essential. There are many ways to organize memoir writing:

Chronological structureBraided timelinesThematic sectionsFramed narrative

Experiment with structure to see what best supports your story. The right framework enhances clarity and strengthens emotional impact.

Revision is where memoir writers refine voice, deepen reflection, and sharpen narrative tension. Expect multiple drafts. No memoir is written cleanly in a single attempt.

Why Memoir Writing Matters

When considering how to write a memoir, it’s helpful to remember why the genre continues to resonate. Memoir creates connection. It allows readers to see their own struggles and hopes reflected in someone else’s story.

Every life contains moments worth examining, not only because they are dramatic or extraordinary—but because they are human.

If you feel the pull toward memoir writing, begin where you are. Start with one scene. One question. One memory that continues to surface. Over time, patterns will emerge. Themes will suggest themselves. You will begin to find your voice.

The process of learning how to write a memoir is not only about craft—it is also about courage. And for many memoir writers, the act of shaping personal history into narrative becomes transformative in itself.

Your story holds meaning. The page is waiting. If you have been thinking about writing a memoir but aren’t sure where to start—or if you are feeling held back by fear-–-consider scheduling a free 20-minute discovery call with Kate Meadows Writing & Editing. We will meet you where you are and help you consider possibilities for moving forward with your memoir.

The post How to Write a Memoir: A Practical Guide for Aspiring Memoir Writers appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.

Writing can be both exciting and overwhelming. No matter what kind of project you’re working on, it’s easy to get caught up in the details and lose sight of the bigger picture. That’s where a writing coach can make all the difference. A writing coach provides guidance, clarity, and accountability, helping you see your work from a fresh perspective, tackle challenges, and move forward with confidence.

1. Clarifying the Big Picture
A writing coach helps you figure out the purpose and vision of your project. Before getting bogged down in sentences, paragraphs, or chapters, it’s important to know what your writing is meant to achieve. Are you sharing personal experiences, telling a compelling story, or working on a professional piece? A writing coach can help you define your goals, understand your audience, and shape the direction of your project, making sure every part contributes to the bigger story. Focusing on this from the start can save months of rewriting later.

2. Structuring Your Work
Once the big picture is clear, a writing coach can help you organize your ideas so they flow logically. This might involve outlining chapters, arranging scenes, or planning sections of an article or essay. Having a clear structure keeps readers engaged and makes it easier to see how each part fits into the whole. Whether it’s memoir writing or a collection of short stories, establishing a solid framework saves time in revision and gives your story a stronger, more cohesive shape.

3. Refining the Details
While structure provides the skeleton, the details bring your writing to life. A writing coach can help you polish sentences, develop your voice, and make dialogue or descriptions more engaging. Feedback on tone, word choice, and pacing ensures every paragraph supports your story’s intent. With a good writing coach, you come to know yourself better as a writer. Paying attention to these smaller elements not only improves clarity but also makes your writing feel professional and compelling.

4. Offering Objective Feedback
It’s easy to become too close to your own work. A fresh perspective highlights what’s working, points out areas that could be stronger, and offers practical ways to improve. A writing coach’s outside perspective helps your writing resonate with readers and stay true to your voice and your intended story. Honest feedback challenges you in helpful ways and encourages growth, even when it pushes you out of your comfort zone.

5. Accountability and Motivation
Writing can be a long, sometimes lonely process. A writing coach helps you stay on track, set realistic goals, and keeps you motivated when progress feels slow. Regular check-ins and guidance turn big, ambitious projects into completed work. Having this kind of support is often what separates writers who start projects from those who actually finish them.

Working with a writing coach can change not just the way you write, but the way you approach every project. By keeping the big picture in mind, structuring your work, refining the details, offering objective feedback, and providing accountability, a writing coach empowers you to tell your stories with clarity, confidence, and impact.

Set up a free 20-minute discovery call or book a one-time project roadmapping session today and learn more about how working with a writing coach at Kate Meadows Writing & Editing can help you. At Kate Meadows Writing & Editing, we give you the guidance, tools, and perspective you need to reach your writing goals and take your work to the next level.

The post 5 Ways a Writing Coach Can Help You appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.

If you don’t open yourself up to critique, you won’t grow as a writer. While that can feel intimidating at first, it is one of the most important truths in the creative process. The purpose of a writing critique is not to point out flaws or diminish your voice. Instead, a writing critique is a tool designed to help you refine your skills, strengthen your story or message, and create work that truly connects with readers.

A writing critique is much more than simply proofreading. It goes well beyond grammar and punctuation to focus on clarity, structure, tone, pacing, and emotional impact of the writing. Whether you’re exploring new ideas, revising a draft, or working with a writing coach, constructive feedback allows you to see your work from a fresh perspective. Writers often get too close to their own words, making it difficult to spot where a story may feel unclear or where the pacing could improve. Critiques shine a light on these areas, helping you make intentional choices that elevate your writing.

As a writing coach in Rapid City, SD, I have seen writers hesitate to share their work because they fear judgment or criticism. This is especially common in memoir writing, where personal stories carry deep emotions and significant meaning. However, critique is not a reflection of your talent or the value of your experiences. It is a professional tool that helps your story land with clarity, resonance, and impact. Approached the right way, feedback empowers you to become a stronger, more confident writer.

Consistently seeking and reflecting on feedback is one of the most effective ways to grow as a writer. Thoughtful critiques help you identify what’s working, reveal areas that could be stronger, and offer perspective you won’t find on your own. Over time, this insight allows you to make more confident choices about structure, voice, and style, while keeping your work true to your vision. Approaching critique with openness, curiosity, and a willingness to learn transforms it from a source of anxiety into a powerful tool that strengthens both your writing and your confidence in the craft.

Critiques are valuable at every stage of the writing process. When you welcome feedback and consider it thoughtfully, your work becomes clearer, more engaging, and more powerful. Growth comes from being open to suggestions, reflecting on them, and applying what serves your story best. By embracing critique, you give yourself the opportunity to improve not just a single piece of writing, but your skills as a writer overall.

Whether you are seeking coaching services, professional editing, or guidance on a legacy project, incorporating critique into your process is essential. Writers who improve are writers who remain open, flexible, and committed to learning. Choosing to embrace critique is choosing progress. Writing is a journey, and each critique is a step that brings your stories closer to their best.

The post All About Writing Critiques appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.

Confession: I have shoeboxes of journals. Some of them have hard covers with poignant quotes and soothing colors. Others are as plain as they come – solid black or brown with no hint of creativity. Regardless of the cover, the insides are all the same: lined pages scrawled with long-buried moments, pulsing questions and wins worth remembering.

Journaling is a form of art, and I believe it is a necessary practice for writers of all ages and abilities. When we write things down, we often see things more clearly or encounter new revelations. Journaling allows us to practice communicating with the written word. It helps us to remember. Journals are ways of preserving personal histories. And through that, glimpses of the world’s history also peek through. Journals therefore become artifacts and some of them also become works of art.

The best thing about journaling? There is no right or wrong way to do it. There are so many ways to approach journaling My own journaling has taken on a variety of forms over the years, from long tomes of messy thoughts to bulleted lists to “3 Things” (where I simply record 3 notable things about my day).

You can journal about your worries, put down destructive thoughts, record your dreams. You can freewrite whatever comes to mind. Stream-of-consciousness journaling is the process of writing down thoughts as they flow; there is no order, no agenda.

As writers, our personal journals become extensions of ourselves. Our words, thoughts, and ideas tumble onto the page, preserved in time. So often I have been thankful for my journals, for bringing me back to moments I had long forgotten and never would have remembered, had I not written them down.

For Sarah Werner, author and host of Write Now podcast, journaling brings clarity. Werner describes journaling as a place to “find myself and discover myself and understand myself … to ask myself really hard questions and search out answers.”

Christina Baldwin, author of Storycatcher: Making Sense of our Lives through the Power and Practice of Story, says, “We need words in order to make things real. If we don’t talk about something, it’s as though it’s not happening. And yet it is happening.”

Seeing the words written out helps us process what is happening, and processing real life helps us make sense of what is happening or what has happened.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of “practice” when it comes to writing. Writing is a skill, and like all skills, it improves with practice. Baldwin suggests this practice is “like doing scales on a piano, only in words; writing allows us to practice the foundations of our own story. We become more and more articulate the more we practice.”

Journaling is a way to regularly practice writing. The more articulate we become, the clearer we know and see ourselves and our stories. The more articulate we become, the stronger our message.

Getting words onto the page can also free our minds from mental clutter and allow the mind to focus on the task of our own works-in-progress. You could consider this type of journaling as a writing “warm-up”. Julia Camron, in The Artist’s Way, refers to this type of writing as “Morning Pages.”

A friend once shared her surprise over how many stories she ends up sharing with people at the bank or out running errands. “I need to make time to organize them as vignettes,” she said.

These stories – simple interactions between people, observations of the world around us, encounters that produce questions – have value. When we write them down, they solidify moments in time.

Doris Edblad-Olson’s book, Available: Any Bush Will Do, is a collection of vignettes from the author’s life. Ekbald-Olson, reiterates “…there is a story behind every life. Life stories that are very different from our own hold a special interest.”

Because journals hold our words and make things real, they carry our stories into the future and preserve our history. Journals, then, become artifacts. Indeed, “writing creates an artifact,” says Baldwin in Storycatchers. Each journal entry you write becomes a moment preserved in time.

Where those moments show up or how they come back to inform later facts and happenings from our lives in anyone’s best guess.

That’s the beauty – that’s the mystery – of journaling. The words will always be there. Memories saved. Interactions remembered. Pieces of history preserved. The words may never again see the light of day, once you’ve turned the page. That’s practice. The words that do resurface – that’s the art and artifact.

Do you keep a journal? We’d love to hear about your practice. And, you can still download our 25 Reflective Holiday Writing Prompts – a little extra motivation to encourage you to find little pockets of time to write during the holiday season.

*Some of the links I share are affiliate links. If you choose to make a purchase through them, I may receive a small commission at no extra cost to you.

 

The post The Art of Journaling: Recording Moments, Preserving History, Creating Artifact appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.

Every year, the holidays sweep in with their familiar mix of wonder and whirlwind. There’s the glow of lights, the gatherings, the traditions we’ve practiced for years. And then there’s the schedule—crowded, noisy, full of good things that leave us feeling stretched thin.

For writers, this season can make creative work feel out of reach. But it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. In fact, this time of year naturally invites us to return to practices that anchor us—slow, steady routines that help us stay grounded amid the bustle. Writing can be one of those quiet anchors.

And here’s the good news: it doesn’t require hours. It only asks that we show up in the cracks and corners of our days.

A Small Ritual in a Full Season

There’s something about winter mornings—the stillness before the day wakes—that lends itself to reflection. A warm cup in your hands. A house not yet humming. A few minutes to breathe.

You don’t need a grand plan. Just open a notebook and let a handful of sentences settle on the page. What’s stirring in you today? What memory surfaced while you hung ornaments or wrapped a gift? What is this season reminding you to pay attention to?

Even five minutes can steady your heart. Those few minutes compound over a month into something meaningful.

Looking for the Little Pockets of Time

If mornings are out of the question, you can work with what the season gives you. The holidays come with natural pauses—short, often overlooked pockets of time.

Try these small openings:

While cookies bake: Set a timer for the last five minutes and jot down what you’re noticing around you.In the car before going into a gathering: Let yourself write a quick note about the people you’re about to see, or the story you want to remember later.At the end of the night: Instead of scrolling social media or catching the last five minutes of the late-night news, write a paragraph about the sweetest or strangest moment of the day.During those rare quiet interludes when the house settles after company leaves—there’s a clarity in that hush that’s worth catching on paper.

None of your writing in these small openings of time has to be perfect. None of it has to belong to a bigger project. Sometimes the most nourishing writing is the kind that simply keeps us connected to ourselves. It may not even feel valuable in the moment. But when you return to it a year or a decade later, you’ll be glad you captured your thoughts.

Keeping Tools Close at Hand

One small tweak can make a big difference this holiday season: always keep a notebook nearby. Slip it into your bag. Leave it on the kitchen counter. Tuck it beside your favorite chair. When ideas don’t have far to travel, they tend to show up more often.

And if you’re chasing kids or traveling or otherwise juggling more than one human should, use the voice memo app on your phone. Speak your thoughts as you stir a pot or take a walk outside in the cold. Capture the spark while it’s warm.

A Season That Still Belongs to You

Yes, the holidays are busy. But they also carry a deep sense of tradition—moments we return to year after year because they remind us of who we are. Let your writing become one of those traditions. It’s not a chore. It’s not another thing to feel behind on. Rather, it’s a gentle practice that keeps you steady and present.

You don’t have to write for long. You just have to write a little. And those little pieces add up, quietly but faithfully, the way the season always has.

*Stay faithful to your writing during this busy season by downloading our 25 Reflective Holiday Writing Prompts. Focus on one prompt a day and see where it goes! BONUS: share the fruits of one of these writing prompts with us at kate@katemeadows.com, and we might feature it in an end-of-the-year blog post.

The post Writing as an Anchor in a Busy Season: How to find time to write during the holidays—and why you should appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.

Every November for the past 20 years, writers flocked to the nonprofit National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) website, eager to take up the organization’s challenge: Write a 50,000-word novel during the month of November. November was dubbed National Novel Writing Month in 2000, as founder Chris Baty wanted to encourage writers to take advantage of the miserable late-fall weather. (He lived in the San Francisco Bay area, where it was often cold and rainy.)

What started as a simple-enough effort local to San Francisco in 1999 with 21 participants, NaNoWriMo ballooned over the years, in both participants and participant location. In 2022, more than 400,000 participants signed up, from all over the world. They logged their daily word counts, cheered each other on, and kept the dream alive that, yes, they could finish that book.

But after a remarkable two-decade run, NaNoWriMo’s story came to a dead halt.

A one-two punch of controversies — one involving inadequate oversight in the organization’s youth programs, another over its stance on artificial intelligence in creative writing — led to internal fractures and public backlash. The nonprofit shuttered its doors in 2024, leaving a gap where a vibrant community once gathered.

For many writers, it felt like losing a familiar November ritual — one that celebrated effort over polish, consistency over perfection. The idea wasn’t to produce a masterpiece, but to get words on the page and worry about revising later.

So now what?

The good news is that the heart of NaNoWriMo — the community, the commitment, the creative spark — still beats strong. Writers everywhere are carrying the tradition forward in new ways.

Did you ever participate in NaNoWriMo? Are you looking at November and feeling lost, wondering what will take the place of this structure and community that united writers across the globe for two decades?

If you’re hungry to write in November and still long to spend this short, cool month in a mad writing sprint, I want to share some NaNoWriMo alternatives with you  – including an invitation to write with me for 30 days and celebrate your progress on the other end.

Alternatives for November Writing Challenges

Reedsy Novel Sprint

Publishing platform Reedsy has launched its own November challenge, encouraging writers to draft 50,000 words in thirty days. This year, they’re offering prizes and even agent introductions for top participants — a mix of fun and motivation to keep those fingers typing.

ProWritingAid’s “Novel November”

ProWritingAid, in partnership with Scrivener, Lulu, Kickstarter, and others, hosts “Novel November.” Writers commit to a month of writing sprints, live workshops, and community events — all designed to help authors finish strong and polish their drafts after.

Janna Maron’s NON-WriMo

NON-WriMo is the alternative to NaNoWriMo for women writing nonfiction. Creator Janna Maron encourages women nonfiction writers to set their own goals and work at their own pace. “We prioritize ease, grace, and manageable goals over stress, pressure, and plowing through to force ourselves to meet a word count goal that, let’s be honest, isn’t a sustainable (or fun) approach to our writing and creative lives,” Janna says.

Local Events
Some communities are keeping the NaNoWriMo spirit alive locally. Libraries, writing centers, and bookshops are hosting their own challenges. For example, the Brigham City Library in Utah continues to host a November novel-writing event with local prizes and meetups.

Go Solo (or Small)
You don’t need a global nonprofit to make November count. You can gather a few friends, set your own daily goals, and hold each other accountable. Invite writer friends to join you on Zoom, or meet once a week in a coffee shop to share your writing progress and write some more. Whether you’re writing 50,000 words or 500, the goal is the same: show up for your story.

How will you show up?

November can be your month of accountability and encouragement. If you’d like a little extra boost, download our free November Writing Tracker. The tracker is a fun way to help you stay motivated and keep showing up. The visual rhythm of checkmarks is motivating, and even a few missed boxes show that you’re trying, not failing.

It’s not about word count; it’s about consistency. About honoring your craft, one day at a time.

Download the November Writing Tracker here.

The end of NaNoWriMo doesn’t mean the end of November writing. It’s simply a new chapter — one where we can return to the roots of what made it meaningful in the first place: community, commitment, and courage.

Let’s keep the tradition alive.

The post NaNoWriMo Is Gone. What’s Next for Writers in November? appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.

In a time of uncertainty—for journalism, for truth, even for funding the arts—stories endure because people keep showing up with curiosity, compassion, and commitment to telling them.

That truth was on full display at the 2025 South Dakota Festival of Books, held September 26–28 in Spearfish. The South Dakota Humanities Council describes the festival as “the state’s premier literary event,” celebrating literature “in South Dakota and beyond by connecting the very best regional and national writers with our state’s readers for conversations, presentations, panel discussions, book signings, and special events.”

More than 5,000 book lovers, authors, and publishing professionals filled the small town (population just shy of 14,000) for a weekend that celebrated the written word against all odds.

Five months before the festival, the South Dakota Humanities Council, which organizes the event, lost 74 percent of its funding due to deep cuts to the National Endowment for the Humanities. Then, in a twist worthy of a novel, the festival’s main book distributor backed out at the last minute—leaving organizers scrambling.

Enter Henry’s Books, Spearfish’s lone independent bookstore. Opened just a year earlier through a massive crowdfunding effort, Henry’s stepped in, secured every title from the 60-plus featured authors and illustrators, and quite literally saved the festival.

It was a reminder that stories survive only because people see to it that they do.

 

Unresolved

At one session, journalists-turned-authors Dan Jorgensen and Mary Annette Pember explored the crossovers between journalism, narrative, and creative writing. Playing on H.L. Mencken’s line that “the journalist lives a life of kings,” Pember said she liked to think that, as a journalist, she lived “the life of queens.”

As she spoke about researching her mother’s experience at an Indian boarding school in Wisconsin—material that went into her latest book, Medicine River—one word came to me: unresolved.

History is unresolved.

Our stories are unresolved.

So much of our reckoning with hard truths remains unresolved.

Listening to Pember and Jorgensen, I couldn’t help but wonder if either of them would go into journalism today. The world they entered decades ago—the one I once knew—has changed beyond recognition. I remembered myself in those early days, heading out in Little Henry, my blue 1990 Ford Ranger, reporter’s notebook in hand. I’d chase the story, scribbling facts and quotes, then return to the newsroom to type and send my piece to the editor. My first salaried job paid $24,000 a year.

Today, reporters type notes into their phones and sometimes file stories from the driver’s seat before even leaving the scene. The tools have changed, but the motivation—the why behind the work—still matters most.

Pember admitted that “structure was always the stumbling block.” And her reason for writing her latest book felt familiar: “Part of my motivation was trying to understand my family,” she said. Even after publication, she said, she keeps a pen and pad nearby, giving herself permission to remember.

Permission. That word lingered.

Another phrase came to me that morning: consistent curiosity. Maybe that’s what keeps a journalist—or any writer—at the desk, even when the story feels too heavy, too tangled, or too unresolved.

 

Stories Truer Than Facts

Later, in a session called Mending a Divided Nation, psychology professor Tania Israel presented hard statistics about how Americans misperceive one another.

“We perceive Democrats and Republicans to be farther apart than they are,” she said. “We’re not nearly as apart as we think we are.”

She shared some sobering numbers:

Republicans guessed that 38% of Democrats identify as LGB (lesbian, gay or bi-sexual); the reality is 6% of Democrats identify as such.Democrats guessed that 44% of Republicans earn more than $250,000; the reality is 2% earn more than $250,000.Each side assumes 40% of the other condones political violence, when in truth, only 1–2% do.

But here was the hopeful part: 71% of Americans believe it’s possible to find common ground on most issues.

And then Israel said something that resonated with me on a deep level: “People find stories to be more true than facts.”

It was another thread in that same tapestry—curiosity, compassion, and story as the bridge between worlds.

One festival attendee said this about the power of story: “Stories are alive after we let them go. You don’t know who’s going to read them, and you don’t know what kind of effect they’ll have.”

 

The Writer’s Reckoning

The next day, I sat in a dim theater at Black Hills State University, attending yet another talk on researching and writing nonfiction. I’d hoped for some new insight into how to approach my own project about my grandfather’s childhood—his journey from Dust-Bowl-ridden Oklahoma to the far reaches of western Wyoming in the late 1930s.

But as the speakers traded anecdotes about their own research with their own books, I realized: Nothing that they were saying was new to me.

And then it hit me. I was hiding behind “learning.” Behind more classes, more talks, more knowledge. What I wasn’t doing was the one thing that mattered most: writing.

It’s funny how easy it is to give two hours to a talk about writing and not even consider spending those same two hours actually writing.

I jotted this in my journal: A big part of why I’m not writing—or researching—is that I don’t feel I have permission.

Of course, the question then becomes, permission from whom?

And of course, I know the answer: permission from myself.

Maybe that’s the struggle for so many of us. We seek permission when the truth is, stories don’t wait for it. They just need us to show up—curious, compassionate, and committed.

 

The Story That Endures

As I packed up my vendor booth at the end of the weekend, I kept thinking about Henry’s Books—how one independent bookstore rose to meet the moment and, in doing so, reminded us all why we gather around stories in the first place.

Because when we show up for stories, they show up for us.

When we nurture curiosity, we mend what feels broken.

And when the world feels uncertain, stories remind us that the human spirit endures.

For me as a writer, editor, and book coach, weekends like this are a powerful reminder of why we do what we do. Every author I help, every story I edit, is part of this larger human effort—to make sense of what’s unresolved, to stay curious, to keep the flame of story burning.

Because in the end, it isn’t just books that save festivals—it’s people showing up for one another, for story, for truth. And that, I think, is where hope lives.

As I drove home from Spearfish, I thought about how every story I help shepherd into the world—whether my own or someone else’s—is part of this same act of endurance. Writers, editors, readers, booksellers—we all hold a thread of it. What Henry’s Books did for the Festival is what writers do every day: keep stories alive.

That’s the work, and the gift—to keep showing up with curiosity, compassion, and commitment, knowing that even in uncertain times, stories will carry us through.

 

*This post contains affiliate links, and we receive a small commission from each book sale.

The post When Stories Save Us: Notes from the 2025 South Dakota Festival of Books appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.

When you imagine a writing retreat, what comes to mind? Maybe it’s the click of keyboards as participants hammer out stories. Maybe it’s hours of quiet focus. Maybe it’s the beauty of a lake or a mountain view outside an enormous picture window.

Or, maybe the term “writing retreat” is new to you.

A writing retreat is a unique opportunity for writers to detach from every-day responsibilities and spend dedicated, uninterrupted time in a designated place, writing. Your sole job at a writing retreat is to write. There are no text messages to answer. There are no meals to plan. There are no kids to pick up from practice. The retreat is a date between you, your story (or story idea) and whatever medium you use to get that story down – a notebook, a laptop, a recording device.

But what does that look like, exactly? How do you organize a retreat, and how do you show up to the work?

The truth is, writing retreats can look a lot of different ways. I’ve structured my own retreats – 3-day solo getaways within 60 miles of my house to get the writing work done. I’ve met a dear writer friend halfway between her town and mine – in a state where neither of us lived – for a weekend of writing and reconnecting. I’ve packed a bag and met a half dozen other writers at a big cabin for two uninterrupted days of writing time and reflection.

What matters when it comes to a writing retreat is the act of stepping away from the daily grind and giving your writing the focused attention it deserves. Here are three types of writing retreats to try:

1. The Solo Retreat

A solo retreat is the classic vision: you, your notebook or laptop, and the freedom of uninterrupted time. Sometimes what you need most is time alone. A solo retreat might be as simple as booking a night at a local hotel, borrowing a friend’s cabin, or even spending a day in a library with your phone turned off.

The gift of the solo retreat is silence. With no distractions, no obligations, and no one else’s schedule to consider, you can sink deeply into your work. A solo retreat also teaches you discipline—learning to sit with your project for long stretches and to trust your own rhythm without external cues.

Many writers find breakthroughs during these solo stretches, when the noise of daily life finally falls away. Many writers return from a solo retreat with not only pages written but also a renewed sense of who they are as a writer. It’s just you and the work—pure and simple.

 

2. The Duo Retreat: Accountability and Companionship

For some writers, solitude feels daunting. That’s where a retreat with a trusted friend or accountability partner can be transformative. You write in parallel—each focused on your own project—but you take breaks together, share meals, and check in on progress. Having another person nearby creates a gentle sense of accountability. When your partner is typing steadily across the table, you’re more likely to stay the course, too.

Duo retreats are especially helpful if you need encouragement but still want focus. They strike a balance between solitude and community, offering companionship without distraction. Many lifelong creative partnerships have grown from this kind of retreat, where encouragement and accountability weave together. When you get stuck, you’ve got a safe sounding board right there. You can bounce ideas off of each other and even read sections of your work out loud for feedback. Writing with a friend is a great way to buck the loneliness of the work and have a little (or a lot of) fun in the process.

 

3. The Community Retreat

Then there’s the magic of a larger retreat—gathering with a group of writers, all committed to moving their projects forward. Community retreats combine quiet writing time with the camaraderie of shared meals, conversations, and (often) inspiring talks. The energy is palpable—everyone is there for the same purpose: to write. You come for the words, but you leave with encouragement, friendship, and a renewed sense that you’re not walking this path alone. Writing may be solitary, but it doesn’t always have to be lonely.

Community retreats are structured to maximize progress while also fostering connection among writers. You’ll usually find a rhythm of inspirational talks, quiet writing blocks, and shared meals. The conversations—around the table, on a walk, over a cup of tea—often spark breakthroughs that no one could have found alone.

Our families and friends might cheer us on, but they don’t always understand what it’s like to wrestle with a sentence for an hour or to be haunted by a character who refuses to speak. At a retreat, though, you find yourself surrounded by people who get it. You don’t have to explain why you’re tired from “just thinking” all morning. No one blinks when you say you’re struggling with chapter three for the twelfth time. Around the table, you hear others voicing the same challenges you thought were yours alone. Suddenly, the weight lifts a little.

 

An Invitation to Write in Community

The greatest gift of a community retreat is belonging. Writing may be a solitary act, but it’s not a lonely one when you know others are walking alongside you. Writers leave community retreats not only with words on the page but with friendships, accountability groups, and a deep sense that they are part of something bigger. If this speaks to you, I’d love to invite you to my upcoming one-day in-person writing retreat at Canyon Lake Resort in Rapid City, SD, on Saturday, November 1.

This one-day retreat includes:

Brief inspirational talks about writingLots of quiet writing timeAn optional Pilates sessionOptional 1-1 coachingLunch, snacks, and drinks (or bring your own if you prefer)

Come for the words, but stay for the conversations and the camaraderie. Writing may be done in solitude, but it flourishes in community.

Register here for the one-day in-person writing retreat on Nov. 1.

Regardless of how you step away and write, I promise you will find the time valuable. When it’s you and your words – with no other responsibilities or obligations pulling at you – you will find there is magic. There are insights waiting, and there are quite likely some surprises in that quiet, creative space.

*Have you ever treated yourself to a writing retreat? If so, what did that retreat look like and how did it help you move a writing project forward? Share in the comments or email me to let me know!

 

The post Your Writing Retreat: 3 Ways to Step Away and Write appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.

Have you ever thought about writing a memoir? If so, you may have faced this daunting question: Where do I even begin?

This very thing happened at a recent Write-In I hosted. One writer shared that he was trying to tell the story of his life—for his grandchildren. “I’m at that time in my life,” he said, “where this story needs to come out.” The daunting question was: How could he get the story of his life onto the page in any sort of meaningful way?

Most of us don’t walk around with our life story neatly outlined in our minds. Instead, we carry memories like scattered puzzle pieces—some vivid, some blurry, and some we haven’t summoned for years. One way to begin writing your memoir is to gather those pieces and lay them on the table. By bringing your material together—your memories (however cracked, blurry or otherwise imperfect), your experiences, pieces of dialogue, names of influential people in your life—you’re able to see the bigger picture.

But how exactly do you go about gathering that material, especially when the material is all over the place—some of it tangible, some of it intangible?

Gathering material for your memoir can look a lot of different ways. Here are a few ideas to get you started:

1) Mine Your Memories

Start with what you remember. Memories often surface in fragments—an image, a smell, a phrase someone once said. Don’t worry if memories come out of order or without much detail. Just get them down.

Some writers like to use tools to help organize these fragments. One suggestion is to create an Excel spreadsheet—list keywords, key phrases, and memories. Use multiple tabs if helpful, so you can sort ideas in different ways and literally see your story start to take shape.

Others prefer a more tactile approach for capturing these fragments, such as index cards. Jot down one memory or keyword per card and add as much detail about it on the card as you want. You can sort them later. Different colors of index cards can help you track moods or themes: yellow cards for sad memories, white cards for happy ones, and so on.

Try this: Set a timer for ten minutes and write everything you remember about your childhood kitchen, or your first job, or the day you left home. Or, if you’re a list-maker, try this idea from writer Caroline L.: dedicate one page of a yellow legal pad to a single category. One page might be, “Pairs of Shoes.” Another could be, “Houses I’ve Lived In.” Each category is a window into your world, triggering stories you might not have thought of otherwise.

Writers like Maggie Nelson in Bluets and Sarah Ruhl in 100 Essays I Don’t Have Time to Write show how fragments and lists can become powerful storytelling tools. Your scraps of memory don’t need to be polished or chronological to carry weight.

2) Turn to the Archives

Pieces of our lives are recorded in surprising ways—letters, photographs, social media posts, yearbooks. (In high school, I earned the votes for “Most Integrity” among my classmates; my son was recently voted most likely in his class to start his own business.) These tangible artifacts often spark stories we’ve forgotten. A single photograph might remind you of the family road trip where the car broke down, or that purple cotton rag sweater you wore on the first day of high school.

Some memoirs even take their structure from archives—built around photos, lists, or objects. Kate Carroll de Gutes’s Objects in Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear, for example, uses personal objects as the doorway into story. And Heidi Julavits’s The Folded Clock takes diary entries out of chronological order, showing how memory often circles and folds back on itself. These unconventional approaches remind us that the form of memoir can echo the way memory actually works: nonlinear, layered, textured.

Try this: Pull out an old photo album or scroll through the earliest photos on your phone. Choose one image and write the story around it. Who was there? What happened before and after the picture was taken?

3) Listen to Others

Sometimes, the people around us remember moments we don’t—or they saw them from another angle. Family members, friends, and even colleagues can help you fill in the gaps. Listen not only for the story, but for how they tell it. Conversations can also reveal how your story intersects with theirs, which deepens your perspective.

Try this: Ask a sibling what they remember about a holiday gathering or a family move. Their version may differ from yours, but both perspectives are valuable. Memoir isn’t about perfect recall; it’s about truth as you experienced it. When we hear multiple versions of the same story, we realize just how slippery the truth can be. The point is not to determine whose version of the story is “right;” instead, it’s to reflect on how each way the story is remembered contributes to the overall richness of the story.

If you want to see how this looks on the page, read Elizabeth McCracken’s An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination. The author weaves in voices, echoes, and reflections from others as part of her own story. The result is layered and deeply human.

Spreadsheets. Index cards. Yellow legal pads. Old photo albums. Conversations and pieces of dialogue. However you go about it, the key to writing your memoir is to start gathering the pieces of your story. Don’t worry about order or polish yet. Just collect, collect, collect. The more material you have, the richer your “big-picture” story will be.

You can start gathering material for your memoir right now. Choose one of the “Try this” prompts above, set a timer for 15 minutes, and write. And, if you want to take it a step further, gather your material and join me for a First Draft Bootcamp starting Sept. 29. You can find all the details here.

Happy gathering!

Note: Books mentioned in this blog post contain affiliate links. Kate Meadows Writing & Editing receives a small kickback for any books purchased through the above links. We are happy to support the craft of creative nonfiction and the work of the above-mentioned authors.

The post 3 Ways to Gather Material for Your Memoir appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.

Every August 13, the world tips its hat (or maybe its left sleeve) to all the Southpaws out there, on National Left-Handers Day. It’s a playful holiday meant to honor the 10% of the population who do most things with their left hand. That’s right—only one in ten people share this trait, which makes lefties a rare bunch.

Throughout history, left-handers have often been misunderstood. The Latin word sinistra (meaning “left”) also gave us the word sinister. In the Middle Ages, the devil was believed to be left-handed. For centuries, children were scolded or retrained to use their right hand instead. My own father, a lefty, was forced to write with his right hand in school. He grew up in an era where common thought was that left-handedness was a sign of something wrong. Yet, despite the challenges, lefties have left a big mark on the world.

Take the arts, for example. Some of the most celebrated writers put pen to paper with their left hand. Lewis Carroll, the imaginative author of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, was a lefty. So was Hans Christian Andersen, whose fairy tales continue to charm children and adults alike. In more recent times, modern authors like Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) and Kurt Vonnegut also wrote from the left side.

But the list doesn’t stop at the written word. Some of the greatest minds in history were left-handed: Albert Einstein—arguably the poster child for brilliance—was also a lefty. Four of the most recent U.S. presidents were lefties: Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton, and Barack Obama. Oprah Winfrey, Tom Cruise, Bill Gates and Prince William are also left-handed.

I (myself a leftie) have touted the mugs and the t-shirts over the years – the ones with pithy sayings like, “Left-handed people are always right,” and “Everyone is born right-handed. Only a few overcome it.” My favorite saying just might be, “Here’s to showing those scissors in elementary school who’s boss.”

Studies about the differences in brain activity between right-handed and left-handed people are all over the place. In 2019, scientists identified DNA differences between lefties and righties. Recently, a large study in the U.K. linked regions of the brain connected to handedness with personality types more prone to mood swings and anxiety. And left-handed people use the right side of their brain more – the hemisphere associated with creativity, music and imagination.

Speaking of creative, Paul McCartney played his guitar left-handed, flipping the instrument upside down in his early days before finding a proper lefty model. Leonardo da Vinci painted, sketched, and scribbled notebooks backwards, forcing readers to hold his journals up to a mirror to decode his genius.

In August, we celebrate the lefties. Being left-handed is a trait I’ve always been proud of – especially because it’s a trait I share with my dad – and both of my kids. In a world where only 10 percent of the population is left-handed, my family unit has always skewed the statistics. I have never been a part of a household where the righties dominated. My mom was the sole righty of the family as I was growing up; now, in my family of four (myself, my husband and two sons) still only one (my husband) is right-handed.

How do you like those genes?!

While historically left-handers may be the minority, they’ve never been short on impact. So, in the spirit of National Left-Handers Day, here’s to the lefties—may your smudged ink, quirky scissors, and backward spiral notebooks never slow you down. We are a unique – and wonderfully creative – force. The world wouldn’t be the same without us!

The post A Salute to the Southpaws: Famous Left-Handers in History appeared first on Kate Meadows Writing & Editing.