The Istoriaphile’s Corner

It’s no secret that I love stories: reading, writing, or telling them.  Reading stories is easiest for me to do; all I need are the words and my glasses. Once I find the narrator’s voice, we’re off and all I have to look for is when to take a breath. Telling a story is scary and a whole lot of fun, especially if there’s an appreciative audience. When I’m telling stories, the hardest thing for me to know is when to shut up.  (I’ll admit it, I’m a natural-born ham.)  Writing stories is a different cat altogether; in fact, writing is a cat with claws. As soon as my fingers hit the keys and letters show up on the screen, my inner critic emerges and starts pointing out the obvious flaws. At that point, the tale that was bubbling and aching to get out locks itself behind a gate in my brain. So, what do I do? I’ve learned to take a walk. Taking a walk is something Stephen King mentioned in his wonderful book, On Writing.  (Seriously, I’ve read a stack-load of books on the craft of putting down prose and this one makes me believe I can do…