You know, I love a good story. Actually, I love bad stories
and mediocre stories. I guess I just love stories. Good stories are great
because they are good stories. Mediocre stories are worthwhile because they are
pretty close to good and with just a little imagination, I could make it into a
good story. The bad stories would generally have the kernel of a good idea and
have taught me that having a good idea doesn’t mean that you will have a good
story.
I am sure this was so when I was a small fry, but my
memories of those early years is spotty at best. I don’t remember mom and dad
reading to me, but I do have some books I saved when I cleared out mom and
dad’s place that are definitely pre school books. I like to think that they
kept them all of those years because they had fond memories of reading to my
brother and me. Of course, they could be from later in their life when they
looked after neighbours kids. No, I’m going with the happy memories of me when
I was a toddler.
I remember that Gram used to tell us stories to pass the
time in the car ride up to the cottage. It was amazing to me that she knew all
of those stories by heart. One of our favourite ones was about these two kids
who were marooned on a desert island with an older sailor. She told of how they
survived and how that older sailor eventually died leaving the two kids alone
and afraid. Looking back, I am sure that she would have made up parts as she
went along, but we loved hearing the story over and over and over again. I knew
that Gram was from an island (Newfoundland )
and in that secret place inside; I was convinced that she was the girl in the
story.
I have loved reading since Mrs. Cunningham’s class in grade
6. She was the one that really opened my mind to the magic of stories I could
find no further away than the local bookmobile that came to Parkway
Plaza every Wednesday.
Now, there are so many venues for me to hear, see and read
good stories it is difficult to choose. Maegan pointed me in the direction of
pod casts when she visited this summer and although I have yet to master the
how’s, whys and when’s, I do keep thinking about them. The libraries are filled
with more books, movies and magazines than I will ever be able to get to in my
life time. I do keep trying though.
I have stories rolling around in my head that have been
there for decades. I am not getting any younger and if I ever want to see those
yarns in black and white, I had best start putting them down on paper. It would
be kind of cool to have someone’s grandmother telling one of my stories on a
long trip to keep the kids entertained. Then, to have one of those kids find
magic in the written word would be the dream of a lifetime.
I also wouldn’t mind someone turning it into soft porn.
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