A

Lesson

In

The

Wonders 

Of 

Storytelling

 

...Alternate Title...

Musing on Musing

 

Laments...

Parables...

Moral Tales...

Fables...

Anecdotes...

Fill In the Blanks...

Epistles...

Epics...

Sagas...

Yarns...

Accounts...

Lore...

 

Suspicious stories. Impeccable stories. Love stories. Stories set in stone. Fevered stories. High-pitched stories. Floor after floor after floor of groundbreaking skyscraper stories. 

Some are short, bitterly sweet, barely a breath in and out, just long enough for a lifetime. Some stories are long and windy, tenderly related by a crackling fire, a generational inheritance. Some stories rise quickly and fall fast, breathless, wind knocked out of, world weary chapters shouldered alone. 

Some stories start slowly and aimlessly wander until at last the bungled beginning evolves into a stirring ascent and a soaring finish. Some stories teem with character, honesty and truth. Some stories are  too big for their breaches of faith and falsehood. 

Some stories are so insistent they itch to be told and demand details, definition and dedication. Some stories wait and must be carried far afield until the words manifest themselves in their own time. Some stories are plain and true. Some stories are loud and boisterous affairs that resonate only from the stage and with a sold-out audience on their feet demanding an encore. Some stories move from ear to ear embellished in time after time over time. Some stories are soft, touchable and serene. Some stories are flawed remembrances, carelessly cataloged.

 

 

Some stories are confessions offered in hope for redemption. 

Some stories are songs that must be sung from a mountaintop,

to echo in the valley. 

Some stories are promises of a yet to be published novel. 

Some stories are epilogs, summations of effort. 

Some stories are worn like badges awarded for bravery.

Some stories are sermons, ponderous and pounding.

Some stories are vagabonds, traipsing and traveling. 

Some stories are practical straightforward efficient.

 

Some stories end with happily ever after.

Some stories end dignified by the sweetness of mercy.

Some stories end abruptly, loose ends dangling sadly. 

Some stories come to their own conclusions. 

 

Whatever your life, your story...you write it. Others may try to write their own adaptations, follow up with footnotes or fill in the blanks that lapses in memory may erase. 

Your stories and mine are quite simply...ours...to tell. A beginning, a middle and an end, choreographed step by step, by our own footprints made through the act of artful living. 

In the days to come, I will tell you my stories. What you will find, I hope, is how your stories, each and every one, fill my pages.

My garden pages. 

Because this is how it all began...

I wrote down my stories...

then you came and told me yours...

As we move through our lives, and lose our beloved historical partners, often we begin to question if what we recall is myth or memory. Tell your stories now, while you still have a few friendly editors to keep your life in full perspective. 

 

 

Oh...and don't forget the illustrations...as simple as 1...2...3...