At this point in my writing process, I have a couple of scenes, a prelude of being with a lover in middle age (not included here as a kind of flash forward) and my idea is to then flash back to thirty years before, doing a magick ritual to find love and live in the tropics (the lover scene hints at being in the tropics, and so the reader is asking, did the magickal ritual work, and is still working, thirty years later). Then the ‘Meat’ of act one starts, mainly childhood, not so sure of the cut off point for act one.

I have the first part written. I have a chronic disease that has influenced my life, it’s genetic, and I begin with the first symptoms (aged five) and show the context (living with cruel parents in a cruel school system, and this part introduces a goal (going to live with my rich aunt instead of my drunk mother).

I’m struggling a bit with the next scene. I started writing diaries aged 16, and I have then as copied jpegs now. In my thirties I switched to digital, and so I can get notes from this material. But the early reference is only my memories and a few photos.

So I started writing, a kind of mix of brainstorming and stream of consciousness of those memories. There’s an unformatted dump of this at the end of the article. I asked AI to put a bit of structure to it, suggest some writing prompts, and I’m going to pick it up from there. I’ll include the output below with my notes.

Memory and storytelling are messy. When writing a memoir, raw notes often start as a stream of consciousness—fragments of memories, emotions, and disconnected events. The challenge is turning them into structured, compelling scenes. Below is an example of how scattered thoughts can be organised into something more cohesive.

Structured Scenes from Raw Memories

1. The Household and Early Struggles

My sister was spiteful and always tried to make me fail. She would lie about me, undermine me, and tell me I couldn’t do things. At school, I was assumed to be stupid, but at home, I devoured adult books and later taught myself computing.

2. School as a Trap

School was a place of boredom and silent frustration. They deliberately demotivated me, assigning me reading materials far below my ability while I read adult horror novels at home. They sold private lessons to my family, but these were a scam—I was left alone in a room with nothing to do.

3. A Fascination with the Occult

Gothic and supernatural themes captivated me early. By ten, I was reading about the occult and doing card readings. I had a ghostly visitor—an old woman who sat on the stairs and spoke to me. I played with a cassette recorder and, years later, realised I had captured spirit voices.

4. The Town Occult Shop

One day, I stepped into the town’s occult bookshop. I didn’t realise it then, but this moment would define my life. The books inside felt like home. I bought a crystal ball and found I could use it immediately.

5. Safety and Isolation

After my parents’ divorce, I was sent to live with my aunt in her shop. It was a different world—wealthy, orderly, and filled with books and pets. She was strict and controlling, though, throwing away my things without asking, making me feel invisible. Still, it was a sanctuary compared to my mother’s house.

6. The Violence and Turning Point

At nine, my mother beat me unconscious. My uncle, who had been ill with cancer, died moaning in the living room. When my mother lost her driving licence for drunk driving, she moved into the pub she ran, leaving me alone in the suburbs at twelve. I stopped going to school, became agoraphobic, and immersed myself in the occult.

7. A Father’s Last Attempt

One night, while I waited outside a pub where my mother drank, my father approached me. He wasn’t allowed to speak to me, but he told me he loved me. My mother saw from inside and ran out, attacking him. The look in his eyes was pure horror as he fled. I didn’t see him for thirty years.

Writing Prompts for Expanding These Scenes

• Memory vs. Reality: How did you experience the events as a child versus how you understand them now?
• Atmosphere: Describe the occult shop. What did it smell like? What books were on the shelves?
• The Turning Point: What was the moment you knew things had changed? When did childhood end?
• Isolation: What did it feel like to be alone at twelve? What was your daily routine?
• The Last Look: Describe your father’s expression as he fled. What emotions surfaced later?

My sister was a hateful girl. She was always trying to make me fail and tell me I couldn't do things, lying about me and being spiteful. 
I was continually bored at school, and assumed to be or given the message I was stupid, but at home I could (and did) read adult books, and when I got a bit older, taught myself computing. 
I was drawn to the occult, and horror and gothic themes early on and it's been a defining theme in my life. There was a magazine about the occult I liked when I was about 10 and I used to do card readings. 
I was always imaginative and creating imaginary scenarios and little characters I would pretend were around me. 
I could see a ghost when I was a kid, a woman who used to sit on the stairs near my bedroom and talk to me. I used to play and make tape recordings and when I got older I realised there were spirit voices on the cassettes, talking to me. 
I think the first part of my life is up until I left the lower school and around then I walked into the town occult shop, and all the books inside became the interest of my life. 
It was mostly unhappy memories because I hated school so much and the country was so harsh and my mother so violent, but I did end up going to live with my aunt in a shop, where I was safer and happy. 
She had a boat and we had idyllic holidays where I spent all day reading and fishing. 
She bought a dog but was a very domineering woman so it was my dog for about a week, then she completely took over its care. 
I was alone a lot of the time. 
School was very bad. Looking back I feel it was deliberate. They deliberately demotivated me. 
My mother and father split up. My mother tried to turn me against him. 
She was a drunk and would pick me up hours late from school. I sat outside a pub in an empty car park until midnight, when she would drink-drive me home. 
She was stopped and breathalysed (and her partner) and so they lost the licence and moved into the pub and stopped coming to the house, which is why I ended up living alone. 
One day I did see my father, who wasn't allowed to speak to me. He came up to me in the car park to speak to me and tell me he loved me. My mother saw from inside and ran out and attacked him violently. 
The look in his eyes was horrified, pure, pure horror and he ran away and I didn't see him for over thirty years.