The service is in four days and you have nothing. Start here, not at the beginning.

The blank page is not a shortage of material. It is a shortage of prompts. You have thirty years of this person in you; what you do not have is a way to get any of it out through a cursor blinking under the words “Dad was”. If it is not four days but tonight, use when the service is tomorrow instead.

Stop writing. Answer these instead.

Open your phone’s notes app. Answer in fragments — no sentences, no order, spelling irrelevant. Six minutes. If a question does nothing, skip it; three good answers beat twelve dutiful ones.

• 01What did his hands look like?the fastest route to a real detail, every time
• 02What did he always say? Write it exactly as he said it, including the swearing.
• 03What was he doing the last time you saw him properly?
• 04What did he do that annoyed everyone and that you would give anything to see again?
• 05What was he like at the kitchen table, or in the car?not at Christmas — Christmas is everyone’s
• 06What did he teach you without meaning to teach you anything?
• 07What was he like before you knew him — what have others told you?
• 08What did he smell like? What was on the radio?
• 09What did he get wrong?
• 10What is the thing you never said to him?
• 11Who else in that room needs to hear their own name said out loud?usually his wife, or the one who did the caring
• 12If you could keep only one minute of him, which minute?

Two stories and one sentence. That is a eulogy.

The shape, once you have material

• open with a scene, not an announcementNot “we are here today to remember” — everyone knows why they are there. Start inside a specific moment: a Tuesday, a car park, a phone call. Ten seconds of a real scene buys you the room’s full attention for the next four minutes.
• then say who he was to you, in one sentenceOne. “He was my father, and for most of my life he was also the person I rang when something broke.”
• two stories, ninety seconds eachPick ones that show two different sides. Each needs a place, an action and a thing he said. Places and quotes are what make a room see a person.
• one sentence of meaning, not a paragraphWhat the stories add up to. Resist the urge to explain them — the room got there before you did.
• name the people who are hurting mostHis wife. The daughter who did the hospital runs. Say their names out loud. This is the part people thank you for at the door.
• end on something he said, or something you would say to himShort. Do not end on “rest in peace” or a poem you found tonight. End on his own words if you have them; his voice is a better last line than any writer’s.

One evening, hour by hour

• 0:00The twelve questions, in fragments. Do not write prose. Six to fifteen minutes.
• 0:15Text three people: “one memory of Dad, whatever comes first”. Their answers will arrive while you work and they will be better than yours, because they are not yours.
• 0:20Read your fragments and mark the three that made you stop. Those are your stories. The rest is background.
• 0:35Write only the two stories. Place, action, thing he said. Do not write the opening yet.
• 1:05Write the last line. Then the first. In that order — the first line is easy once you know where you are going.
• 1:20Fill the joins. One sentence each. Nothing clever.
• 1:35Read it aloud, standing, with a stopwatch. Cut to 3–5 minutes. Cut the biography first.
• 1:50Print it, 14pt, and stop. Go to bed. Read it once more the morning of the service and change nothing.

What not to do at this hour

Do not read fifteen example eulogies for other people’s fathers; they will flatten your voice and cost you an hour. Do not ask a chatbot to write it — it will produce four fluent paragraphs about a man who loved his family, and you will know immediately that it is not him, but by then it will be harder to hear your own version underneath. And do not start with “Webster’s dictionary defines”. Please.

• How do I start writing a eulogy when I have nothing?

  Do not start writing. Start answering questions in fragments — what did his hands look like, what did he always say, what was he doing the last time you saw him properly. Twelve prompts for six minutes produces material; staring at a blank document does not. Then pick the three fragments that made you stop; those are your stories.

• What is the structure of a good eulogy?

  Open inside a specific scene rather than announcing why everyone is there. Say who they were to you in one sentence. Tell two stories of about ninety seconds each, each with a place, an action and something they said. One sentence of meaning. Name the people hurting most. End on their own words.

• How long does it take to write a eulogy?

  About two focused hours if you collect material before you try to write prose. The hour-by-hour plan on this page runs from blank page to printed script in under two hours, including timing it out loud.