Asher Sisneros

There are hundreds of writing styles. Everyone looks for their spin on a story. Many writers wrestle with this dilemma: “How can I make it mine?” That’s caused an abundance of styles, which is marvelous. However, in the autobiography world, there’s often a division. Some autobiographers, such as Mark Twain, will only focus on writing engaging stories. In Twain’s case, that was at the expense of the stories’ overarching point. There was no point. There was no message. There was not even any conclusion. By contrast, others might focus on the autobiography’s overarching message at the expense of an engaging story. For example, Thoreau wrote about a specific period—his time at Walden Pond—and had multiple messages (though no definite conclusion). However, he didn’t write in an engaging, entertaining manner. The question I seek to answer is simple: Do autobiographies that focus on a message have to be engaging? That is what I will dissect in this essay.  

The reason writing is beautiful is because quality writing transcends time. Not because it isn’t subject to time constraints. It most certainly is. A poem cannot time travel three hundred years in the future. That’s nonsense. However, good writing isn’t captive to its time. The author may die. He may be dead for hundreds of years, but it is possible that his writing lives on. Shakespeare, for example, is dead. He’s been dead for hundreds of years, but we still remember him. He has a legacy because of his writing, which is what powerful writing does. It leaves a legacy that future generations will remember. 

That seems advantageous for the writer with a message. Naturally, if someone is writing about an idea, forwarding an ideal or moral, and advancing a cause, that person will accomplish more by being remembered. For that writer, it’s not about their memory. It’s about their message. However, that doesn’t, in and of itself, diminish the responsibility an autobiographer has to make their material palatable. People can only remember that which they know. Words can only be powerful if someone hears them. So, there must be an incentive for people to read the book. While that might seem like common sense, it’s critical to establish. If nobody reads the book, the message will fall flat. A profound message is only as good as the cracker it’s delivered on. 

So, what is the point of all this? Simple: Autobiographies with a message are redundant if nobody reads them! The autobiography will be more popular if it contains stories people are interested in. It’s basic economics 101. You’re looking at the principle of supply and demand. Don’t supply what nobody wants. Supply what people want! Provide what engages them. If the reader is involved, they are more likely to recommend the book. That advances the message. The autobiographies The Life of John Thompson, a Fugitive Slave, and Twelve Years in Slavery do this seamlessly. There is no doubt that both books advance a message: They both call for American slave emancipation. However, they do it strategically. Instead of simply proclaiming slavery was wrong, they showed its gross injustices. The reader didn’t need persuasion. People are smart. Human beings are capable of putting the pieces together. It’s a prime example of the show, don’t tell philosophy, which I wrote about here. However, that’s not the point. Their message was strong because of engaging stories, not despite it. It’s not one or the other. Autobiographies should have both a point/message and engaging stories.

To conclude, what good is a message if it’s not heard? If the sermon falls on deaf ears, it is pointless. That’s why all pieces of literature must be engaging. They say the pen is mightier than the sword. It is true, but only if it pierces the heart. Use your writing to influence the world. Use it to cause a positive impact. Write so people will listen.