I’ve been thinking a lot about stories. Everything we watch or read is based on some sort of story. Books are stories. Television shows and movies are stories. Somebody made something up and decided to share it with others. If it’s a good story, it gets shared. Other people enjoy the story. And the story gets bigger, spreads across the world. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter where the story came from or what people do with it. At times the story gets twisted around and becomes a new story, something it never intended to be.
The fact that we continue to create new, original, stories is astounding to me. With so many stories already out there, how can anything be original? What makes a good story, and how do we not let the other stories influence our own?
I can only draw upon my own life and experiences in creating the stories that I write. At times I don’t even know where the inspiration comes from when I write. I’ve written scenes that seemed to drift into my mind out of nowhere. And then other scenes are ones I lived. I remember details and events and blend them together to form something new. A fusion of experience and memory, molded into the story I’ve created.
Perhaps the reason I love to research things, and dig into genealogy, is partly due to my love for a good story. I’m constantly looking for the story that explains where I came from and who my ancestors were. Or to find out something about the place I live. I don’t know what I’m going to get out of a story when I go looking for one, but I know when I find it that I have found something unique.
In the past few years I’ve uncovered lots of stories that have been forgotten by time. And lately I’ve started reading nonfiction books and watching documentaries. I do love a good fictional tale, but the real stories have caught my eye. I especially love watching “The Story of God” with Morgan Freeman. It’s a show where Freeman looks at how different religions deal with specific themes. He digs into the stories of how the religions came to be, how they differ, and ultimately, how they are essentially all very similar. There are specific aspects of almost every religion that overlap. And I find this very curious.
We all have our own stories, the stories we grew up telling, the stories we read to keep us entertained. I don’t think there’s a person alive who doesn’t have some story they like to tell over and over. It is through stories that we remember. We must continue telling stories or future generations will never know about all the great things that came before. Some people are good and are able to write their stories down. But most of the time, the stories are handed down, until one day it is forgotten.
My grandfather was writing his autobiography before he died, and it’s only now that anyone is really reading it. My cousin Josh has uncovered some really fun tales about our great grandfather, who was asked to record animal sounds for a radio show in Amarillo, Texas in 1937. We would have never uncovered this if grandpa hadn’t written it down.
I often wonder what the first story was. Who made the first story, and what was it about? Was it a simple story created in response to a question? Or was it a story created to explain something no one understood. I don’t think we’ll ever really know, but it’s fun to think about it.
The stories of the Gods and fairy tales give us some insight into what these early stories might have been. One day I’ll go into detail about fairy tales. I’ve been fascinated by them all my life. But I still have a lot to learn about their origins and the authors who wrote them. And despite all the things I’ve researched over the years, mythology has not been one of them. I hope to spend some time remedying that soon.
As you go through your days, think about all the stories you hold within you. Think about the stories that inspire you, the stories that you tell. Keep hold of the stories that fuel you to create. Whether it’s a novel, a poem, a song, or a movie. Or perhaps the story you hold dear relates to knitting, or sewing, or creating a garden. I have stories about the irises in my front garden, that match the exact variety that my great grandma won awards for.
As I continue to write in this space, I will be sharing bits and pieces of my story. And perhaps through reading about mine you will discover a bit of your own.
Because, as Doctor Who says, “We’re all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?”