THE JOY OF STORY
John M. Daniel’s Blog
December 12, 2015
“You must not tell anyone,” my mother said, “what I am about to tell you.”
This
is the week beginning on the second Saturday in December. As happens on the
second Saturday of the month, I am presenting 99-word stories contributed by
readers of this blog during the previous month. In November I challenged
writers to send me stories with the following opening sentence: “I promised my
parents I would never tell this to anyone.”
Charlotte
Painter reminded me that this prompt was similar to the opening sentence from a
book by Maxine Hong Kingston, and I sheepishly admitted that I had just plain
stolen the idea, if not the exact words, from Ms. Kingston. I used this prompt often
as an assignment during my twenty years as a part-time creative writing
teacher, and I always gave Ms. Kingston credit for the ironic beginning of The Woman Warrior. It was a popular
prompt, especially in my life stories classes. It forced or at least persuaded
writers to face their monsters and dare to reveal their family secrets, which
were often quite dark. I think one of the reasons I enjoyed teaching life story
writing is that I’m unabashedly nosy.
The
essay below is written with memoir in mind, but the bravery it takes to face
the dark is a necessary ingredient to fiction as well. Stories need to be
brave. Writers need to face the dark and take on the monsters from time to
time.
The
stories submitted for this week’s blog are not all dark. A couple of them deal
with a common rite of passage in our culture: a child’s becoming aware that
Santa Claus is a phony. Well, that’s an important crisis in a child’s hagiology.
It’s a major step toward adulthood, which has its plusses and minuses.
§§§
By
the way, for a fine example of stories about dark secrets, see the promotion,
toward the end of this post, of Katherine Elberfeld’s story collection,
published this year, titled Make
Yourselves at Home.
And
don’t forget: you're invited to send me your 99-word story for January.
See the instructions, deadline, and prompt at the end of this post.
§§§
Facing Our Monsters
There are dangers and rewards when it comes to mining your past for the stories of your life. As I’ve said (perhaps more than enough), a story requires conflict, so as you look for good stories to tell about your youth or your younger years, you’re likely to come across a few monsters that you have tried for years not to think about.
I walked out of my mother’s house in the middle of an
argument, and I never saw her alive again.…
My wedding went sour when I saw how happily my new husband
and my old friend were dancing together.…
I trained all summer for the Grand Masters Chess Tournament,
only to be knocked out in the first round by a geeky teenager.…
I should have given my son the bicycle of his dreams.…
There
you have themes for potential stories about guilt, anger, disappointment, and
regret. These four monsters (and others just as ugly) lurk underneath all our
beds, waiting to take over our dreams. Should we continue to smother them with
denial? Well, if it works to do that, fine. But maybe it’s time to face those
monsters.
How?
Psychotherapy? Sure, but remember that as a writer—a writer of your life
stories—you have a cheaper, more creative, more enjoyable way to slay the
dragons.
Remember
that all good stories require conflict, so cash in on your sour memories.
Remember too that loss is one of the things that has made you an interesting
persons. Also remember that you’re not alone, and your readers will be on your
side, because they’ve ridden in the same rocky boats.
Another
thing I can promise you: facing your monsters and turning them into
well-written stories will not harm you. Just as in a dream, even the worst
nightmare, you never feel physical pain, when you’re writing a story, even the
saddest story ever told, you will not break down. You may even find a way to
make peace with the enemies under your bed.
Sweet Dreams
If you’re like most people, you have some memories that bring you guilt, anger, disappointment, and regret. But most people also have memories that bring them pride, reconciliation, love, and peace. You may, and should, write stories about these experiences too. You deserve the pleasure.
Wait
a minute. How can you write an effective story with no conflict?
I
didn’t say no conflict. Look a little harder at that memory and you’re likely
to find that self-esteem came after you faced a challenge to your pride;
reconciliation implies overcoming difficult differences; love is what redeems
loneliness; and peace is often hard-won.
Sure,
celebrate your sweet dreams in your stories. Show them as victories over the
human condition. Never forget the human condition. Don’t be afraid of the dark.
§§§
Now, with no
further introduction, here are this month’s 99-word stories:
I KNOW SOMETHING YOU DON’T KNOW
by Cathy
Mayrides
I promised my
parents I would never tell this to anyone. It had to be my secret. Other kids
had to hear it from their own parents, in their own time.
I had badgered
them and cited irrefutable evidence. There were presents in the back of their
closet. And, I reasoned an old man and some reindeer couldn't travel the globe
in one night.
When they told
me, I cried because they were liars. My own parents! My world was violated. I
would never do this to my own kids.
But I was
oddly smug in my newfound knowledge.
•••
A PROMISE KEPT
I promised my
parents I would never tell this to anyone, referring to what I discovered
several days before Christmas.
Like many kids,
I was curious and snooped around to learn what was hidden. As usual, the gifts
were already wrapped. It was a challenge to try to determine what was under the
gaily-colored paper, by simply seeing its shape.
Holy mackerel!
I discovered
something I should not have seen. Mom spotted me and called dad. I figured I
was in big trouble. Instead, he smiled and said, “This will be our family
secret.”
So I will never
tell.
•••
ELF UNDER THE INFLUENCE
by Pat Shevlin
I promised my parents I
would never tell this to anyone.
I went to bed Christmas Eve
’58 worried that Santa wouldn’t come because we had no tree.
Noises in the driveway woke
me. It was my drunken dad. He had waited until the neighbors were at church for
midnight mass, to shop the abandoned “tree” lot across the street.
The wiry five-foot Charlie
Brown balsam tree, price tag attached, was a “steal,” saving dad the $35 that
he had just left at the bar.
This eight-year-old prayed
God would forgive her drunken dad on this Christmas Eve.
•••
I PROMISED I WOULD NEVER TELL
by David Llewellyn
My father’s brother was born on
Christmas day. He joked about how he’d been gypped out of a birthday present
every year. He died on the eve of his fiftieth birthday. I was twelve years old
at the time.
Uncle Flip visited us every
Christmas. He was always between jobs. We all looked forward to his visits.
Especially my mom.
I was the one who found him lying
face-down on the guest bathroom floor on Christmas morning. I was also the
first to read the letter he had left on his pillow.
The letter was addressed to my
mother.
•••
A COSTLY SWAP
by Jerry
Giammatteo
I promised my
parents I would never tell this to anyone. I was the infamous present swapper.
I was seven and
desperately wanted a GI Joe. My parents bought one for my cousin Mick. I was
jealous. Mick’s gift sat under the tree.
One night, I
tiptoed to the tree and switched the label that said “Mick” on one box for one
that said “Jerry” on another.
On Christmas
morning, I got the GI Joe. Imagine Mick’s surprise when he got a sweater four
sizes too big for him?
My parents
discovered my subterfuge. The punishment fit the crime.
§§§
Recently published by Daniel & Daniel, Publishers
Make Yourselves at Home
and other stories
Katherine Elberfeld
978-1-56474-572-9
96 pages, paperback, $12.00
Publication date: May 5, 2015
Order from your local independent bookstore. This book is also sold by Amazon and other online booksellers. To order directly from the Publisher, call 1-800-662-8351.
What
lurks beneath the surface of small-town propriety?
Katherine Elberfeld’s stories of
small-town life in the American South evoke a pleasant and polite community
feeling, and some of them are blessed by strong family ties. But the stories,
some comic, some dark, and some both comic and dark, all reveal secrets and
resentments that fester in the past and haunt the present. Katherine Elberfeld’s
characters range from a little bit odd to downright crazy, as they come to
terms with what life has given them, making choices for the better and
sometimes for the worse.
The
short stories in Katherine Elberfeld’s first collection, Make Yourselves at Home, have an ironic blend of grotesque and
comic, mannered and eccentric, loving and vindictive, which may bring to
readers’ minds the spare, strong talents of other southern women writers, like
Flannery O’Connor, Carson McCullers, and Eudora Welty. Elberfeld’s fiction kindly, vividly
vivisects the gentility of southern small-town society.
Asked to describe her
fiction, Elberfeld answered: “In
the deep South, twisting live oaks and curtains of Spanish moss create a
beautiful but haunting environment teeming with lushness and with menaces in
the dark. Poisonous snakes hide in the undergrowth and alligators lurk in the
black waters. The characters and their lives in these stories mirror that
landscape with all its beauty, complexity, hidden dangers and surprises. But
occasionally, a shaft of light shines on the water, illuminating the threats in
its depth, and the characters can decide whether to wade into the water or
not.”
Katherine
Elberfeld's
careers in journalism, freelance writing, and the Episcopal priesthood inform
and inspire her writing. She is the author of To Speak of Love, In
the Midst of Sunflowers, Jordan to Jerusalem, and the novel The Lady of
the House, and has published short stories and articles in Appalachian
Heritage, New Therapist, Concepts in Human Development, and
Leadership in Action. A native of Georgia, she now lives in Marietta, not
far from her hometown of Gainesville. She invites readers and fellow writers to
visit her website: www.katherineelberfeld.com.
§§§
Call for submissions: Your 99-Word Stories
The deadline for January’s 99-word
story submissions is January First. The stories will appear on my blog post for
January 9, 2016.
note: this 99-word story feature is a game, not a contest.
Obey the rules and I’ll include your story. I may edit the story to make it
stronger, and it’s understood that you will submit to my editing willingly.
That’s an unwritten rule.
Rules
for the 99-word story feature are as follows:
1. Your story must be 99 words long, exactly.
2. One story per writer, per month.
3. The story must be a story. That means it needs plot
(something or somebody has to change), characters, and conflict.
4. The story must be inspired by the prompt I assign.
5. The deadline: the first of the month. Stories will appear on
this blog the second Saturday of the month.
6. I will copy edit the story. The author of the story retains
all rights.
7. Email me your story (in
the body of your email, or as a Word attachment) to: jmd@danielpublishing.com
THIS MONTH’S PROMPT FOR
NEXT MONTH’S 99-WORD STORY: Write a story in 99 words, inspired by the words “This time
I really mean it.” That can be your title, or your first or last sentence, or
just the theme of the story. Reread Rule 3, above; this must be a story, not
just an essay. If I receive your story by January
1, and if you follow the rules,
your story will appear on this blog January 9.
§§§
Thank
you for dropping by. I hope you’ll be back next week, when we’ll have a guest
post by Eileen Obser, an editor, a writing teacher, and the author of the
honest and provocative memoir Only You.
Meanwhile, may you find joy in reading and/or
writing stories!
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