Welcome to the Storyteller’s Corner

I’d like to tell you a story, about the day I met Zuna.

I have a very close and dear friend whose been in my life since childhood. She was an English professor and is an author who has taught me valuable lessons on this road of life.

One of those lessons: Be true to your authentic self. This has proved a monumental task in a world of being pulled in every direction, but not necessarily the direction you should be going.

I’ve aimed to do just that in my writing, but over a period of time, I felt like I hit a wall. I couldn’t find something truly authentic worth writing about.

One day, I stopped by her house for tea, as friends do, and we got on an amazing topic, writing of course!

She asked me, “ Do your characters come out and talk to you?” I was perplexed. She proceeded to tell me she can imagine her characters moving about the room, having conversations, and interacting with each other.

At first I said I could, but then later, during a contemplative reprieve, I realized I’d never had this happen to me.

All of these years writing, and not one character has resonated with me. Well, a flood of emotions took over.

Bottom line: I had plenty of written material on my computer, even a whole book sitting in a well of despair on the bottom filing cabinet floor, but absolutely no connection to anything.

Here comes the day I’ll remember forever.

Another dear friend who is out-of-state called me about a little more than a year and a half ago. I had the privilege of spending time with her family when I was around 18 and we remained friends ever since. She is an artist and her husband is an author. They are two fantastically creative people with massive hearts.

She wanted to possibly come down to New Mexico for an art show, and stay with us if she decided to make the trek. Of course it was an absolute yes!

Then I had the chance to talk with her husband, and he was updating me on his writing, something he’s been able to make a living off of. But when we got off the phone, I had an immediate gut-wrenching moment. I had nothing to say or offer. I’m saying this because no matter how many years I spent writing, I never actually had a story worth telling. I thought I did, but all of those endless words collecting dust on my USB could tell you otherwise.

I wallowed in despair for days, distraught my dream of becoming a writer, was a waste of time.

This went on for more than I’d like to admit, and towards the end of my blues fest, I was laying in bed, after a relentlessly long day staring off into space, basically just a dot on my ceiling. Then in an instant, my mind’s eye went dark, a black canvas. This was disturbing on several levels, considering I’m always thinking something, all the seconds of my waking and slumbering life.

But out of the pitch-black hole, a creature emerged. She formed slowly, thoughtfully, until she stood before me, whole. No name was given, she just stared at me with expressive, large, kind, sad eyes, and a scarf wrapped around her neck. She blinked at me several times, and I stared back in wonder.

I mulled over her for days afterwards, and a story began to build. Took me all but two weeks to outline the first book, and that was pretty profound, considering my writing dry spell had lasted for years.

We all have a story to tell. It may be tucked down in the recesses, and sometimes you just need to quiet the doubt, or the negative self-talk. It’s time to stop beating yourself up over the misplaced idea you don’t have something purposeful to say. So shut it off, and revel in the silence, because maybe something or someone in your imagination may have been trying to grab your attention, but you’ve been too absorbed to notice.

We are the makers of our story. We are the builders of worlds. So now I leave you with a question, a little crumb for thought.

When will you begin your story?