Wednesday, October 24, 2012


I had a story once.  Bits and pieces of it have found their way into every one of my books.  Twisting and turning it until there was nothing about me that was recognizable to anyone else but me proved to be one of my greatest challenges.  But twisting and turning one story into another is what I love to do.

Even the dental-challenged barista at my favorite coffee shop has a story.  Hers wasn’t what I imagined it to be, the casual grandmother having another side to her sweet persona.  Discovering that she’s a displaced cancer researcher was eye-opening.  She’s displaced due to her ex-employer’s budget cuts and with no interest in returning to her former career, she’s content pushing pastries and espresso until she gets to retirement.  We talked for hours and she had some interesting warnings about the things we might find in our water.

The woman at the airport had a story too.  A single mother, she was known to work as many as three jobs at one time to get her only daughter through college.  Mom’s pride and joy recently earned her juris doctorate degree from a very prestigious university.  Now Mom only works to fund her new love:  sky-diving.  After offering up tips and tricks about free-falling out of an airplane she pledged to bring the entree if we brought the dessert the next time we met.

I live for the stories.  And for every story there is a story-teller anxious to share.  Sometimes it’s just a hint of what has moved their small world.  For others they will readily lay out a well-scripted novel if you’re willing to give them the time.  Some are more engaging than others.  A few have been downright snoozers.  And then comes the challenge of twisting the mundane into a blockbuster.

I’m always searching for stories. What's yours?

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