Character archetypes in true stories we read can unlock hidden codes for our own journey through life, so observing patterns in storytelling structures from memoirs are a great way to learn aspects of the craft of memoir and even more so, certain trademarks of specific memoir categories in the genre.
I recently finished the coming-of-age travel memoir My Paris Dream by Kate Betts, a bestseller upon publication in 2015. There’s some wonderful things to learn from this memoir about how certain character archetypes in your story can be read and conveyed, as well as turning points in the necessary friction in the plot, and how much you really do need to reveal in the first fifty pages, to keep a reader turning the pages of your story.
As I teach inside THE ART OF MEMOIR, the story never really starts until you go ‘all in’ on central premise and leave the ordinary world behind, so the sooner you can move beyond ‘normality’, the better for the reader. Betts does this beautifully in My Paris Dream, and her writing has much to reveal about elements of the Hero’s Journey, storytelling archetypes particularly the Villain and their purpose in a coming-of-age memoir, and the central crux or friction point which is so crucial for a page-turning read, memoir or not!
Are you writing a travel memoir or a coming-of-age memoir…?
If so, then this memoir is a great example of what works in the genre and sub-category. It was published in 2015 so it’s a little too old to be used as a comparative title in your book proposal, but you can still enjoy reading it as an example of what works in the genre and why.
Nothing helps me more when I’m bed-bound than a travel memoir! My Paris Dream took me on a journey from wintertime in Melbourne with ill health, to a delightful journey through Paris and New York in the 1980s.
The central premise of My Paris Dream is just what the title says: Princeton graduate Kate Betts moves from New York to Paris as a 20-something writing graduate in the 1980s to work as Paris correspondent for the eponymous magazine Women’s Wear Daily. Similar to coming-of-age memoir My Salinger Year by Joanna Rakoff, which was set in an eccentric Literary Agency, the plot of this memoir (and the coming-of-age category) often centres on a significant first job in the author’s life which holds global gravitas and much provides many clues to the cultural zeitgeist of the time.
For Rakoff, publishing eccentricities were centred around the mysterious (and significant) literary figure J.D Salinger. In My Paris Dream, significant and globally-recognised figures such as Christian Louboutin and Karl Lagerfield, Anna Wintour, and Kirsten McMenamy make major and minor appearances to signify how central this role was not just to the author, but to the central themes and quests of the fashion and magazine industry at the time.
My Paris Dream is both a travel memoir and a coming-of-age memoir.
Similar titles include coming-of-age fashion magazine memoir The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger (a New York Times bestseller and then a Hollywood film), and My Salinger Year by Joanna Rakoff.
Like many memoirs that fit into the coming-of-age category, My Paris Dream explores the author’s first ‘proper’ job in a ‘big’ city – Paris.
If you’re writing a travel memoir or a coming-of-age memoir… or your memoir explores fashion or magazines or that time in the 1980’s, it could well be a great study for your comparative titles!
And if you’re more of a reader than a writer, My Paris Dream is a lovely book for francophiles, and anyone interested in the halcyon days of working at fashion magazines (pre: internet when everything was scribbled by hand, barked into a telewire or faxed!).
Memoir writing centres include characters who fulfil an archetypal role
The purpose of every character archetype in your story is to lead the narrator forward and reveal more of your character. Betts writes the villain archetype beautifully, and helped me understand the purpose of the villain (or enemy or shadow) is to strengthen the Hero, to force them to grow. Here’s some more insights I gained from studying how Betts wrote the interactions with her ‘Enemy’ or villain archetype:
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The villain archetype
- The villain in memoir always has a purpose in the greater journey of the hero.
- The hero must prove themselves to the villain.
- In their first scene in your memoir, you’ll be pulling out one of the most memorable encounters with this ‘villain’ character, so the reader is in no doubt as to their purpose in your story.
It’s clear, from when Betts starts at WWD that Mr Fairchild is the Villain. But he has a purpose in the context of the story (as all the character archetypes in a story, do!), so as the reader we’re invested in him, just like we’re invested in Betts overcoming the challenging requests and standards. Akin to the Anna Wintour character of The Devil Wears Prada, it’s clear from the first scene that Fairchild exists to lift Betts into a new level.
I looked up and found Mr Fairchild staring down at me, hands thrust deep in his pocked, his head tilted back as if to question this imposter who had suddenly landed in his office….. He had a shock of white hair and menacing blue eyes, and wore an impeccable tweed blazer with a bright-blue silk handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket.
The first scene you have with a ‘villain’ in your memoir needs to be memorable.
The villain in your story ALWAYS has a PURPOSE.
Through watching Betts grow and learn and perform even greater tasks in her role for Fairchild in Paris, you see the purpose of a villain in story: to show the heroine what they’re capable of, to make them grow.
The reflections and meaning the narrator makes of their own life, needs to be subtle and well-woven not overly explained, and i enjoyed the way Betts explored the challenges of the expectations and standards in the height of Paris fashion in the 1980s:
- “In many ways we were a dysfunctional family, all vying for approval from the aloof patriarch. Perhaps that explains my comfort level and confidence at Fairchild…I could handle remote patriarchs…”
THE STORYTELLING ARC OF THE HERO’S JOURNEY AND ARCHETYPES
In the hero’s journey storytelling arc, the villain sets a series of tests to see what the hero is capable of, to test and stretch the main character, to show us (the reader) what they’re ‘really’ made of, but more than that…
The Villain or Shadow or Enemy archetype reveals who the hero is, what they really want, and what they’ll do to get it.
It’s this dichotomy and gap in what the hero character is lacking, that makes the Enemy or Shadow so enticing – as readers we want that gap, we want to believe the hero can make the shift, the leap to fighting ‘on equal ground’ with the Villain.
I teach story structure in my memoir writing course THE ART OF MEMOIR by revealing how the stages of the Hero’s Journey intersect and overlap with character archetypes as well as the bestselling story codes that are important to reveal in the first fifty pages.
THE FIRST FIFTY PAGES OF YOUR MEMOIR
I’ve written before about how the biggest mistake publishers and editors see in memoirs is that the author takes too long to get to the central premise of the memoir, and where you start the story is really crucial. If you’re not clear on ‘where’ the story starts, neither will the reader be.
If you’re working on your book proposal for a memoir and preparing sample chapters for submission, My Paris Dream is a masterclass in making those first fifty pages as good as you possibly can.
This is all that had ensued by the time Betts entered the ‘special world’ of Paris by page fifty – you can see how many of the initial stages of the Hero’s Journey are covered, and we’ve made it into Act Two of the three Act story structure by page 50, as well.
- Betts has graduated from Princeton, given us a glimpse into her family history, explored her parents divorce and that affect on her decision to go to Paris, shared snippets of her first trip to Paris, planted the seed of her desire to move there, then moved through the ‘refusal of the call’ Hero’s Journey stage by revealing her reluctance to relocate when a bomb goes off in Paris…
- She then moves to Paris (crossing the threshold), has a terrible living experience (another refusal of the call stage), works two terrible contract jobs, is tempted to return to New York – and then, BAM, the job at W appears….
- Memoir lessons for the first 50 pages: Keep the reader guessing. Keep the action moving forward. Each time Betts endures another crisis – the bomb, the protests, the awful apartment, the job at the Trib, we’re wondering if she’ll stay in Paris. The central premise of the book – that she’ll create a life in France, the job at WWD – needs to matter as much to us (the reader) as it did to her. By exploring these failed attempts and discouraging experiences, we start to ‘root for’ the heroine and care when she does eventually have a success.
- She only includes back story in how it relates to the central premise of the story. The divorce of her parents is only included in the early pages because it’s relevant to the move to Paris: she wanted to belong, but she was used to feeling unmoored and unanchored to one tribe.
In summary: The first fifty pages of your memoir need to be paced this quickly or readers will simply give up on your story.
Using your personal goals and internal friction will help structure your narrative
One of the storytelling ‘codes’ I teach in The Art of Memoir is about this friction point in our personal goals. It’s an unconscious resistance, and it’s really key to finding the shape of your narrative and where the action needs to rise then fall.
We think Betts’ desire is to belong in France, but it’s not until the crisis point on page 174 near the end of the second act (I don’t want to spoil it for you if you haven’t read it) that her unconscious desire becomes clear:
I wanted something bigger – a bigger job, a more complex life, a career. The simple French way of life I once craved was closing in on me… Le plaisir vanished.
TIMELINES MATTER IN A COMING-OF-AGE MEMOIR
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Plant the reader squarely in the timeframe of your memoir
References to Faxes, landlines, even the beginning of the AIDS epidemic and its effects on the fashion industry plants this memoir firmly in the 1980s. In contemplating coming-of-age memoirs like this, My Salinger Year and The Devil Wears Prada, the culture of the time is almost a character in the story. It’s very important to paint the scene in a way that references certain events so we’re in no doubt as to the cultural constructs the protagonist (you) is up against at the time.
Remember in WILD, how Strayed referenced the OJ Simpson trial a few times throughout the book? It gives readers a reference point for their own lives. By referencing things as they played out on the world stage, you help the reader get there, too.
Summing Up: The gifts of memoir writing
Aside from these structural elements of My Paris Dream, I was struck by the intimacy of reading personal narrative: it’s a gift. An honour. Someone is inviting you into their memories, their history, their experience, and the meaning they’ve constructed from this experience.
I loved the opportunity to live this story through her words and it reminded me of how quickly we can travel through reading another’s experience…
I want to finish by sharing some of my favourite quotes from My Paris Dream:
“The best teachers impart knowledge through sleight of hand, like a magician.”
“I called Dennis back and spat out the frightful number…”
“We were disrupting a certain creative intimacy…”
…on seeing Karl Lagerfield at work.
This year, when I watched a series on apple TV called THE NEW LOOK, loosely based on Christian Dior, I recalled that lovely line.
Have you read any great coming-of-age memoirs lately?
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Wonderful post with much insight. Thank you. I really benefitted from hearing you talk about the importance of the villains in presenting the hero with challenges, and of presenting the villain up front.
So glad! I always think an interesting villain makes for a better story, too…
I have a question: if you have a truly conflicted individual, who wants two things (one could be conscious, another unconscious), how do you decide which is the “want” of the story and which is the obstacle? And if you have conflicting desires, how do you decide Who is the villain and who is the mentor. For example, let’s say you have a boy who both wants to be a saint and wants to be a sinner. There is one character who encourages the boy to be sexually free and another character who encourages the boy to be sexually “pure”; one character who encourages the boy to be a priest and another who encourages the boy to express his youthful passion. The boy wants both. Any insight will be greatly appreciated. I have been struggling with this story dilemma for years—it seems especially pertinent to coming of age stories.