Certain songs, smells, places, or objects become emotional landmines. They transport you instantly back to the worst moments. In memoir, these sensory triggers are gold—they're the details that help readers feel what you felt.

Then there are times when music takes you to where you've been, kind of like on a train ride. You just watch the years that came before. Who you were, the people that came and went. How you used to wear a scarf or a hat or high-heeled shoes and now you're all about understated comfort.

When you write about being an "easy target," you risk becoming one again—to critics, to trolls, to people who don't understand. But that vulnerability is also what makes memoir powerful.

There Is No Perfect Beginning You'll rewrite your opening dozens of times. That's normal. The beginning you need to write first isn't always the beginning readers need to read first.

You can be factually accurate and emotionally dishonest. You can also have imperfect memory and be deeply, powerfully honest.