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About Tell Me A Story
When I was a little girl, the stories I loved best were the ones I heard in Sunday school. The rest of the week I retold those tales, reciting them to my father on the tractor, in the truck, in the barn, and walking across fields. (Bless his heart, he acted like he'd never heard them before.) How, then, did I grow up to be a person who cannot deliver the punch line of a joke? This piece is about me as a storyteller. If I can forgive myself for the false starts and dead ends, I do have tales to tell. So I continue to embroider events, adding layer upon layer of hints and subtext and building tension not with words but with a needle and thread.
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