Your Story Is Safe With Me
Writers get to hear unexpected truth. Confessions, dreams, secrets, goals, family drama flood in from all directions, at all times.
It’s a good thing we’re suckers for a good story.
Because we love story so much, Story feels safe with us and the person who holds that story finds themselves spilling out truths that they have never told another living soul.
At RJ Julia Booksellers in Madison, CT, last night, I started talking with another person there for the book event with Allison Pearson who’s written How Hard Can It Be? — a riveting, laugh out loud funny and important novel following up on the heroine of the phenomenally successful I Don’t Know How She Does It.
An aside: Trust me. You want to read this book. It is smart, fun and funny, exploring myriad contemporary themes with intelligence and grace — and you get to spend time in the head of the good-hearted, creative, smart Kate Reddy once again making her way in love, home, family, and the workplace.
I said I’d already read the book and asked her what she’d read lately. The floodgates flew open. I not only heard about books, but also about book clubs, hobbies, friends, and her superb, world-class collection of XXXX. {I hold it as a point of honor not to say what XXXX is. She trusted me and the renowned, talented writer Beatriz Williams who’d joined our conversation and while the two of us exchanged wry glances, we’re honorbound to hold her secret.}
See what I mean? An innocent chat goes deep-dark personal secret within minutes — with no probing, expectation, or summoning. The stuff just comes to us.
People confess their most guarded secrets to a writer I know. My favorite of her many such events was when a person sharing an elevator blurted that her husband was having an affair and she just decided to divorce him. All the writer doing was being polite, facing forward, thinking about shoes, her contract, the ride home. She is not clergy but is offered confessions of adultery, unrequited love, medical diagnoses, financial ruin. Her schedule includes margins of open time to accommodate the near-constant barrage of secrets; a quick trip to the market includes deep conversations with anguished customers and store staff.
Writers love story. And story comes to us in books, conversations, dreams, and blogs, all directions, all forms, all the time.
For the most passionate storytellers, there is nothing they’d rather do than sit back and listen. Our library once hosted an event with National Book Award finalists reading a piece from their nominated books. As one writer read, the others listened with rapt attention, eyes bright and mouths open. All were competing for the same prestigious award, however, instead of bitter rivalry, there was joy, wonder, sheer delight in listening to the story of another person.
The journalists among us report the story as shared. Others of us gather stories close to our hearts, mull them over, bang them up against ideas, see what results.
Since that kind reader shared her uncommon passion, I’ve been banging around ideas about a character with an embarrassing passion that winds up connecting a community, bringing joy and conversation and further sharing of interests. Then there’s the possibility of meeting another person just like them and what happens. And after that, there’s… {IDEAS BANGING LOUD}
That’s the thing with story — and the writers among us live this reality. Story begets story. A common expression celebrated in an old country song: “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine” could be revised to read:
“I’ll tell you my story.
I hope you’ll tell me yours.”
