Life Lines: How do I ask for my estranged sister’s permission to use her name in my memoir?
Q.
I’ve written the first draft of my memoir. My sister and I have been estranged for years. I know I have the right to tell my story, and yet I don’t feel good about using her real name without her permission. Do you have any ideas for how to approach her about it? —L. B.
A.
What, how, and how much to write about the supporting characters in our lives is a perennial question for the memoir writer. As soon as you decide on an approach that works for one character or situation (you won’t write about that time your cousin shoplifted Lee Press On nails from the drugstore, but you will out her for stealing your boyfriend in tenth grade), another sticky situation presents itself (you would never write about your mom’s nose-picking habit if she were alive, but she isn’t, so . . . ).
While writing about the people we get along with can be uncomfortable, at least there’s a foundation for conversation in healthy relationships. Before I published my memoir Gumbo Tales, I asked some of my friends and loved ones to read the passages that included them to make sure they approved of my presentation of our shared history. I wouldn’t have been happy about significantly altering or removing parts of my memoir if any of them had protested or taken offense, but I would’ve done it to preserve a relationship. Fortunately, the only edits my supporting characters gave me were for factual inaccuracies. I decided not to use names in some stories that involved people to whom I didn’t want to grant access to my unpublished book.
There’s a different calculus in deciding what, how, and how much to write about someone you detest or don’t care about angering or hurting. “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better,” writes Anne Lamott in her book Bird By Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. Lamott is a contemporary goddess of first person narrative storytelling, so if that advice liberates you to write honestly about a difficult person in your life, I say run with it.
You aren’t asking me how to write about your sister in your book, L. B., or about whether to allow her to read it; you’re asking me how to approach your sister about using her real name. But as I can’t imagine an estranged family member granting such permission without at least wanting to read the book first, you need to prepare yourself for such a request should you decide to approach her. Are you willing to allow her to read the parts in your book that involve her? Furthermore, let’s say you do allow your sister to read the parts about her, and let’s say she says no—given what she’s read she does not want you to use her real name. Are you willing to take no for an answer? How about if she tries bargaining: Yes, you may use her real name, but only if you change certain parts she doesn’t like. Are you willing to grant her veto power?
If you aren’t willing to take no for an answer regarding the use of her real name, and if you don’t want to grant her veto power, you might reconsider asking for your estranged sister’s permission. Asking permission and then ignoring her requests may cause more harm to your already shaky relationship than simply publishing your memoir without asking her at all. Depending on your level of estrangement and the reach of your book, she may never even learn about it, and what she doesn’t know won’t hurt your relationship further.
You don’t reveal in your question whether you harbor hopes of having a less estranged relationship with your sister one day, L. B. The answer to that is key to whether and how you should approach her about using her real name. If your hope is to one day have a closer relationship with her—memoirs are sometimes bridges, and maybe yours could lead to reconciliation—then I think you should ask for her permission and remain open to her answer and whatever conditions she places on the use of her name.
Regarding the means of approaching her, you know best whether she’d be most likely to open and respond to an email, snail mail, a message over social media, or a text. However you make contact, I suggest saying something short, to the point, and unapologetic, in the spirit of the following:
Dear Sister,
I know we haven’t been in close communication for some time, but I wanted to let you know I’ve written a memoir that I intend to publish. This book is the story of my life, told from my memory and my perspective, and I’m clear about that in the storytelling. As we have so much shared history, you’re a character in the book. So far, I’ve used your real name. I’m writing to ask for your permission to publish my memoir with your real name. I am, however, willing to use a pseudonym (a made-up name) if that’s your preference.
I plan to send my manuscript to an editor by [date] for a potential publication date of [date]. Once you’ve had a chance to consider my request, please let me know how you would like me to refer to you in the book. If you do prefer a pseudonym, is there a particular name you would like me to use? If not, I will come up with one I like.
I would be happy to answer any questions you might have for me.
Sincerely,
L. B.
You may need to change some of the particulars in that letter/email/text. Consider it a flexible template. If you think your sister would respond more warmly to a phone call or a knock at her door, you could use my letter as a guideline for conversation.
If you decide against contacting your sister because you don’t want to open a can of worms that could affect more in your book than a name, but you still want to be optimally respectful to her, you could decide to remove her real name on your own volition and give her a pseudonym and call it a truce.
Readers: Let L. B. know what you think in the comments!
If you have a question for me about memoir or life story writing, about writing in general, or about publishing, use the contact form HERE or email me: hello@sararoahen.com. Let me know whether you’d like me to use your name, a pseudonym, initials, or a pithy handle.
Yours in putting memories on the page,
Sara