Stories

Stories are such powerful things. They can get you to root for someone you’d never ever think to root for. Protagonists run the gamut of wizard to serial killer. Stories put you behind the experiences of someone else - and when they are sad, you are sad. When they are angry, you are angry. Our hearts soar for their triumphs and break for their defeats.

Wolves may howl at the moon. But people? People look at the moon and dream up stories as to why it’s there. They make a goddess of it and give her a husband. They give her names and children and a personality and suddenly the moon has a human face. We see ourselves in everything, everything, and we carve ourselves into the world around us with stories.

I can build a bridge from you to me with a story. I can relate a rose to a slug, a prince to a popper, a lion to a lamb - all with words. There are no two things that cannot find commonplace on a blank sheet of paper when the writer sits down to type. Stories are how we link things together, and when I share my experiences, no matter how wildly they may differ from yours, you will recognize that I feel sad or happy or mad and you will see yourself in me.

And that moment, so unique to the human spirit, is everything. Because you and I have linked together in our own little way, haven’t we? Because you looked at some words that I wrote, arranged just so to portray something that I experienced, and yet you read them and thought to yourself… look at that, there I am.