This Might Be Something

$34.00

You think you have a story.

You’ve told it in fragments.
You’ve watched people lean in.
Someone has absolutely said, “You should write about that.”

You laughed it off. Changed the subject.

But you’ve kept coming back to it.

This Might Be Something is what happens next.

The moment you stop circling it and start putting it on the page.

And the only way to know?

You write it.

You think you have a story.

You’ve told it in fragments.
You’ve watched people lean in.
Someone has absolutely said, “You should write about that.”

You laughed it off. Changed the subject.

But you’ve kept coming back to it.

This Might Be Something is what happens next.

The moment you stop circling it and start putting it on the page.

And the only way to know?

You write it.

Interior images of This Might Be Something memoir writing prompts, shown both printed and on an iPad. Plus, an image of a woman working with the prompts on a laptop while smiling and sitting on a couch.

Your life is not short on material.

This is where you start writing it down.

Most writing prompts assume you’re inventing something. A cursed prince. A seaside town with a suspiciously charming mayor. A dragon who journals exclusively in Moleskine.

Memoir works with a different kind of material.

The house you can still walk through in your head.
The friend group with its own unspoken hierarchy.
The job that felt glamorous from the outside and absolutely unhinged from the inside.

You’re not inventing a world.

You’re rebuilding the one you already lived in—with enough detail that someone else can step into it.

That’s where the fun is.

The specific room. The real dialogue. The version of you who thought this was a good idea.

Fiction writers don’t get a monopoly on vivid scenes or unforgettable characters.

You’ve met yours.

Now you get to write them.