COVID HAS US ALL STREAMING, WATCHING and re-watching our favorite shows. In that rewatching you have a marvelous opportunity to learn huge lessons about writing memoir. How? Because you probably remember the plot of each piece, which frees you up, this time through, to look for lessons in how the writers cue you to what the story is about. After all, the first step in telling a story is knowing what that story needs to say.

In my COVID binge, I have spent a considerable amount of time not only watching, but arguing with people about Fleabag. I’ll leave it to you whether or not you like the show, but specifically the argument I keep having centers on what the show is about.

As a memoir coach and book editor, I speak to writers about this topic all day long, and always suggest that the first step to telling a story is to consider what it might be about. You’ve got the tale in your head, after all. You know the details. What is it about? That’s the key to making it work.

Fleabag gives us a fine place to have this discussion, though before you get all up and angry — which, for some reason, people seem to do on the topic of this show — let me short-circuit this here by saying that the show is no more about a woman behaving badly than Moby Dick is about a big, old, white fish.

If knowing what your tale is about is the first step in telling a story, that consideration is of prime importance. I would argue that knowing what your work is about is the difference between getting it done and never finishing it, the difference between having readers and not, the big kahuna, the whole enchilada, the whale of the thing — and that it’s one you can master.

Simply put, your first step in telling a story is to establish the difference between your universal theme and your plot line. This is an essential distinction for anyone learning how to write memoir. Your essay/op-ed/book is about the first — a universal theme. The second, your plot line, is the story you use to illustrate what big universal thing your story is about.

“Oh no,” you are saying right now. “My story is about me.” Not if you want anyone to read it, it’s not. It’s not about you. You’re there. You’re present. We could not do this without you. But you are not what the story is about. The story is about something universal and – and here you come – you are its illustration.

What is Fleabag about? Grief. Her behavior stems from her grief and not the other way around. Haven’t seen the show? Try it now with that lens on the end of your nose and see if it gets you past what some people object to — her behavior. Try it now and think back to your own grief and what you did. Never slept around? Okay. Never behaved badly? Okay. What did you do? We’ve all been in grief. Hold that in your heart and think about the ways you would show that grief if you wanted to be mind-shreddingly honest about grief and how it directs us until we get out of its grip.

So what’s your story about? And how would you illustrate that idea? Go on, leave a comment below, take a crack at it, and I’ll reply with some feedback.

photo credit: Amazon.com