Stories

It was a dark and stormy night…  I started one of my first stories like that.  Of course I followed it with…I know it sounds like a B movie but it really was.  There was a hurricane blowing in and the electricity was out...

I love a good story, always have.  By the time I was in junior high, I was checking books out of the high school library.  I have a book with me almost everywhere I go.  I'm a little old fashioned, I still like the feel of a book in my hand.  I like browsing the aisles.  Reading the blurbs.  Getting to know the book (and author) before I take it to the counter.

Being a writer, I unashamedly admit I often eavesdrop on conversations around me.  (You just never know where that next great plot twist might come from.)  And as I’ve gotten wiser (no laughing), I try my best to stop all forward thought and pay close attention when someone I’m with begins a personal story.  (I have a friend who unexpectedly throws them into a conversation so it’s great practice.)   I can learn so much good stuff if I just listen.  But I know I have missed a lot over the years because of youth, self-centeredness or plain stupidity.    

I had a great uncle that hoboed during the great depression.  He was a big man who played a mean harmonica and danced a lively jig.  A truck farmer until cancer made him too weak to push a hand plow, he was in his 70’s when he died.  I know he told me stories but I don’t remember them.  What a waste.

His wife was the family keeper.  She knew everybody, who they married, where they came from, how many kids they had, who they married…you get the picture.  Did we get any of that down on paper?  No.  Shame of us.

My sister gave Mom a notebook and some pens and asked her to write down stories from her youth.  She started and quit.  Said it was too hard on her to remember all the rough times they had.  Months before she died, she pulled it out and read what she had written.  Her comment:  ‘I wish I had kept writing.  Now, I don’t remember.’   We lost so much.

Yes, it’s hard to focus (and not roll your eyes) when someone starts in on the same story you’ve heard at least a thousand times.  Yes, it hard to pay attention when the story doesn’t seem relevant to today.  But it can be so worth it.  As a person gets older, their memories about their youth often becomes clearer and they just might add things you’ve never heard before.  So listen:  with both ears, with all your heart.  It’s well worth it.