“We put a lot of time, effort and dedication into researching our family history, compiling our tree and filling box files and digital folders with page after page of records. We even get pretty good at relating the tales we’ve uncovered to any willing listener. But when it comes to writing up the story, then it often seems as though we’re not quite ready…”

With these welcoming words Helen Tovey, the editor of Family Tree magazine sets the scene for an article in the July 2015 issue written by Graham Barker of Auntie Mabel. As Graham explains, “In the article I suggest four starting points. The aim is not to write an end-to-end family history, but instead to create a series of vignettes or ‘glimpses’ into your ancestors’ lives.”

Each of the suggested writing activities uses one family history resource – a portrait, census return, heirloom or newspaper snippet – as the stimulus. The idea is to start simply, aiming to craft a few paragraphs of text. The case studies included in the article all revolve around one ancestor – Martin Collis of Leicester; they’re standalone pieces, but it’s not difficult to see how a series of such ‘glimpses’ could snowball into a fuller biography.

Graham’s really rather chuffed to see his article in print – thanks for your support, Helen, Karen and the team at Family Tree.

 “All I can say about biography, autobiography or indeed fiction is: don’t start at the beginning. Write about the period that interests you, then go back – gradually pick up the rest.”

These wise words come from someone who knows a thing or two about life writing: Alan Bennett – playwright, memoir writer and all round good egg.

Getting started with writing your family history can be a daunting prospect. If you set out  to write up all of your research, the chances are you’ll soon be inundated with relatives; each time you go back another generation there’s twice the number of direct ancestors to grapple with, and that’s before you take account of all those siblings. There’s potential for being overwhelmed with information. It can stifle, rather than stimulate your writing.

In tune with Alan Bennett’s advice, we suggest you start by writing about one period or person that particularly interests you. Set aside for the time being the idea of writing a full end-to-end family history. Don’t worry that you’re not starting at the beginning. Instead, just focus on one person and immerse yourself in the stories of their life. You might start by writing about one aspect – for example, a brief ‘glimpse’ based around a family photo or an heirloom. Keep it short and sweet, aim for a few paragraphs or about 200 words a piece. Then you might have a go at writing a slightly longer piece about their working life – an occupational history along the lines of our Trading Stories, Working Lives series.

Setting yourself mini projects such as these imposes boundaries – it restricts and focuses what you need to research and write about, and can result in richer, more creative work. It’s also less daunting – to write, and to read. So, when you next have a few spare hours, give it a go, and see where it takes you.

You know that Eureka moment. You’ve spent the last hour or so carefully spooling through a microfilm, trying to spot your ancestor amidst the dense newsprint. Then your eye alights on a familiar surname, and your story suddenly comes to life.

Sitting in the Leicestershire Records Office a few years ago, I had such a moment. I’d tracked down a brief obituary for a relative, Frederick Major, who had long since faded from family memory. The grainy Leicester Mercury snippet of 23rd June 1924 revealed that:

 “He was a very active man and always endeavoured as far as possible to walk wherever he wanted to go. In particular he objected to riding in tramcars. He also had an excellent memory and could have written an extensive history of the city in the last century.”

A remarkable character, by the sound of it. And what a treasure chest his memories would have been – a personal walk through 19^th century Leicester – if only he’d got round to writing them down.

Contrast that with my experience ten years earlier. This time I’m hunting for Edwin Crew. He and his wife Jane had been involved with the Wycliffe Society for the Blind. As I trawl through the Society archives, I uncover ‘City of the Blind at Leicester’, typed on 12 wafer-thin pages. It’s the voice of Edwin in 1932 or thereabouts, recalling the early days of the Society. Despite his apparent reservations – “An autobiography does not appeal to me. However, let us [move] on with the story” – his anecdotes give us a sense of the man and his mission. He’d bothered to write his story and thankfully it has been preserved. Continue reading Getting started: to write or not to write? →