Telling Stories to Myself

I am first and foremost - a raconteur. Every since I was little I've been recognized by friends and family - people who in years to come, lost the ability to see me at all - as a story teller. They talked for years about the novel I would write. I grew up thinking that I was meant to be a famous writer. When I was 13 I wanted to be Richard Brautigan, when I was 15 I wanted to be Emily Bronte. I've lost track of the writers I've idolized since then. I used to think, shit if I could just shut up and write this stuff down I'd have my novel. Friends began carrying paper and pencil on my behalf. I got one of those funny little voice recorders. It did not stop me from telling my story to anyone who would listen. I have honed my craft on every single event that has ever occurred in my life - good, bad, benign or terrifying, everything that has ever happened to me I have shaped into a story. I lie awake at night telling myself the story of my day. I tell it and retell it; polish it; edit it; perfect it. When I tell somebody what happened to me today (or any day) the story I am telling has grown through several revisions. All of it will be true, even if parts of it never happened. And as I tell the story, I am watching my audience. I gauge their reaction. I change my pacing, possibly make a wild digression, maybe cut it short, or ad lib in some way. I will do whatever it takes to keep them listening. The next time that I tell this story, and every time after that it will have altered subtly based on the reactions I get.