Mary Karr • The Art of Memoir

Storytellers have a superpower. They can make people feel good and whole and right. They can inspire and inform. They can make people see the world in a new way. They can make people feel better about themselves.

Storytellers have a superpower. They can make people feel good and whole and right. They can inspire and inform. They can make people see the world in a new way. They can make people feel better about themselves.

One thing that is immediately clear about all three of these classic writers is that their first sentences create voice. Note everything about them—the length, the punctuation, the relative simplicity. Someone is talking to us, and that someone sounds authentic, in command of some sort of authority. There is no wavering, or cautiousness, or lack of

A voice is just a combination of identifiable attributes. These attributes can include, but are not limited to: word choice, cadence and rhythm, structure and format, even the decision to use (or not use) data to back up an opinion.

readers read with their eyes. But in fact they hear what they are reading far more than you realize. Therefore such matters as rhythm and alliteration are vital to every sentence.

But narrative is the oldest and most compelling method of holding someone’s attention; everybody wants to be told a story.

The actual words we say to people are far less important than how we say them. We all intuitively understand that some people are captivating to listen to or be around—while others are unpleasant and make us feel uncomfortable.

I once asked Ethan Canin to tell me the most valuable thing he knew about writing, and without hesitation he said, “Nothing is as important as a likable narrator. Nothing holds a story together better.” I