“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” Blanche DuBois (Vivien Leigh)  A Streetcar Named Desire, 1951 Telling Stories: Part Two Webster’s Dictionary defines the word story primarily as a noun: an account of an incident or event; a statement regarding the facts pertinent to a situation in question; an anecdote; a narrative; a legend. There are other definitions of the word story, but I will discuss the first one today. A story is an account or retelling of an incident or event. If someone says they witnessed an event such as a wedding, they would relate details in order to make the story interesting to the listener. While…

AUTOBIOGRAPHY An autobiography is a book about a person written by that person. The word comes from the Greek, autos self, bios life, and graphein, to write. Autobiography is written with a timeline, often beginning with the author’s birth, or the birth of the writer’s parents. Facts, research, and interviews, along with letters, certificates of birth, school records or employment, may be used by the author. The writer situates the story with history, place and setting. Autobiography is a more formal style of writing, although the author may use their own voice and other writing devices in order to make the book interesting. Memoir, on other hand, is written usually…

Memoir has a long history. Humans have been traveling from place to place to tell stories since the introduction of language. Writing about the self is a method of understanding the meaning of life and a way to communicate the writer’s experiences, emotions and personal beliefs. The ancient Greeks and Romans wrote about themselves in order to convey their opinions about life, as a record of history as lived in their era, and to transmit political, religious and educational philosophies. People continued writing memoirs through the ages, and it is still a valid and entertaining form of communication. Various categories of memoirs can be found in libraries and bookstores. The…

           I carry my books with me everywhere I go, I leave, I return, I follow where the road takes me. I ignore the signs. I write my own directions. I advance on my journey. I decide to stay awhile. I can’t wait to leave. I run away. I travel to the ocean. I hunt for a place to hide. I climb the mountain for a better view. I speak to no one. I stutter with a stranger until I turn them into a friend. I speed past my enemy so he can’t carry me away. I don’t allow her to accept my rejection. I unpack…

Where did you go today? I traveled far to visit with an old woman who told me a tale of when she lived behind a barbed-wire fence. The fence was rusty and sticky with the sweat of a million unwashed hands. Her friends stood beside her, holding her up because she was starving, freezing, shivering, and so hot her head hung down. The women, all of them, supported her and warned her not to cry or whimper any more. When she arrived home, their faces entered into the distant prison of her mind where she guarded them with love so they would be safe and nobody could ever, ever force…