Stumbling into my memoir

Finally a way through

My back catalogue now totals 166 stories. The first one was written on 8th January 2021 - Brown Paper Packages Tied Up With String - 13 views and no followers - not much to show after that first week. It didn’t put me off. I’d made a commitment to walk the walk, answering those obvious questions of finding a new story every week and the time to write it. Could I do it, was I a writer, albeit one without an audience?

Practising every week creates a routine which builds confidence and improves performance. I might not be the fastest writer, but I’m quicker than I used to be. I also hope the quality of my writing shows signs of improvement.

It’s a wet Wednesday afternoon in Chamonix (I am blessed) and I’ve finally found the time to write this week’s newsletter. Even though I don’t have much time, I’m comfortable that I’ll get it done.

My stats have gradually climbed on Substack, but no thanks to the Susbstack community or my lack of attention. Readership started with close friends and family before expanding beyond those circles, drawn from occasional conversations or people finding me on social platforms like LinkedIn and Facebook.

I know 80 is a small number of readers but it still excites me that people find the time every week (over 60% of the 80) drawn by what I write because there is no other reason to give me the five minutes needed to read it. It’s gratifying and I’m very grateful. Thank you.

The same is true on Medium, another publishing platform where my 61 followers, plus others average over 100 reads per month. In total my newsletter including Substack gets read roughly 500 times.

So why did I decide to mention this today?

Recently, I’ve been spending more time on Substack, mildly curious to understand whether I could grow my audience faster. I found Sarah Fay, an author who writes Substack Writer at Work, which provides a lot of the bucket and spade advice needed to be more successful on the platform. Her current April cohort offer is perfectly genuine, her experience proven to work. So what’s stopping me?

A couple of things. Substack is a publishing platform for writers with seamless subscription functionality built-in. I could quite easily switch on a paywall for some or all of my writing. This might not be in my best interest, but it works for well-known journalists with big readerships who leave their daily newspapers or authors, famous folk such as Stephen Fry who recently joined the platform. Substack takes 10% of the writer’s fees making it worthwhile for both parties if you come with your posse.

Substack is free for all writers to use and there is no pressure on me to charge anything for my small following to read my musings. Payment is only made when the paywall is switched on and readers typically part with £3-5 monthly. Many less famous writers offer a freemium model, with extra content for those paying the small monthly fee. It’s rarely enough for a writer to give up their day job.

The platform first and foremost attracts writers, not readers. Any course improving my exposure to more followers is polarised on collecting more writers. Writers do read but it feels like a lot of time and effort spent on a vanity project to satisfy a silly ego.

This made me think about why I’m writing and where my efforts need to focus. The answer is clear. The single most important activity I can do is write my memoir. This weekly newsletter is my exercise, an enjoyable dress rehearsal behind the bigger picture. Thinking straight brings platform growth into perspective - I haven’t got time. Good job done.

I have a lot of notes for my memoir. I started a while before lockdown but used that opportunity to join a writing group, doing the work was writing every day. Collecting thoughts is one thing, I’ve been doing this in a vague chronological order. It’s one way to write my story, but not the one I’d choose to take.

Courtesy of The BBC and Bob

Memoirs often use the same structures found in fiction. It makes sense because entertaining your reader might require more than an orderly or casual walk through a life. Bob Mortimer, comedian and now author published his memoir And Away several years ago. You might have watched his entertaining fishing programme, Gone Fishing now in its seventh series with his friend and fellow comedian, Paul Whitehouse.

Mortimer’s story starts with him walking up and down stairs a few years ago. He’s out of breath too easily and speculates that something might be up. The next chapter jumps to his early childhood and where life started in Middlesborough before returning again to his potential health problem and seeking help. Famous or not, he’s aware that a straight recount of his childhood even with funny Mortimer polish might not be the best approach.

I’ve been mulling the structure of my own story for some time now. One of my children wanted to know more about my relatives. They didn’t meet my grandparents and barely met my mother and father either. Makes sense.

I’ve been mulling my career and why I was fixed on starting my own business. I began to explore that in a recent post, Now 5 Years Later On. There’s room for all, but the thread that holds it together must make sense and the beginning is unlikely to be the beginning. I have an early version that does and I’m not filled with joy.

My ego is poking in on the conversation again. If I spend all this time and effort writing a story, it must be good. Good enough for a publisher to sit and think before they toss it away in the long grass. And here’s the problem. Hilariously funny as I am, my name is not Bob Mortimer and I don’t have a loving audience fond of my every word, falling over themselves to buy my book.

I recently had an epiphany of sorts. The dots and dashes in my head joined up, making sense and all because I read some funny stories which weren’t all that funny. The connection made was a realisation that the first 18 years of my life weren’t all that funny either.

There’s more to say and I’d like to finish the story. Plus my five minutes is up. Until next week.