True Stuff 2
Last week I talked about redecorating my bathroom and uncovering some names and dates. The experience got me thinking about my own ‘true’ stories. I’ve lost people in my life–grandparents, a great aunt, a friend of my father’s, who I wish I’d taken the time to talk to. I wish I’d heard some of their stories. I hit a milestone birthday last summer and since then I’ve sort of been thinking about my own mortality. If I died tomorrow, how many stories would I take with me? How many things would I wish I’d told my children?
My kids are both teenagers and I’m definitely in the early stages of pre-empty nest syndrome. It’s hitting me hard. I thought I’d start writing down some of my stories. Why? Because while I’m a fiction writer, I also consider myself to be a storyteller and I’ve been blessed with an insane family who have given me years and years worth of material. And secondly, because my kids aren’t always going to be teenagers. They are on the cusp of adulthood and I’d like to leave some part of myself (my real self) behind. Not just my fiction, but a bit of my life story too. My daughter asked me once when she could read my books. I told her after I died! While that’s true for the fiction (seriously true), the same doesn’t hold for the real stuff. I’d challenge you all to do the same. Write your stories down. Find a way to preserve them for the ones who are coming behind you. Every person on this planet leaves a footprint–make sure yours is deep and well-defined.