Just Stories

                Last week I went with my mother on a mission trip downtown. It was a lovely experience helping others, and I adored the kids who came by. The ladies that we carpooled with are members of a group that my mother is a member of. Naturally these ladies have never met me, and the question of “What do you do” popped up. So I gave the normal response of my day job, and then I said that I am a writer and that I am currently fixing both my first and second novel as well as planning out the third. My words were rewarded with impressed nods and smiles. Then the next logical question: “What do you write”. Without flinching I explained that my current project was a high or epic fantasy series similar to Tolkien (always good to use a reference most people will understand). I was rewarded with another nod. Then the Kicker:

                “But those are just stories. I only read stuff I can learn something from, like history, biographies. You know, that kind of stuff.”

                I take it as either a sign of maturity or of acceptance of other peoples opinions, that I didn’t slap her. My mother must have seen my initial reaction before I switched to a neutral expression, for she laid her hand on my arm. I let the woman rattle on and inserted the appropriate “yes”, “I see”, and the non-committal noises. But all the while my emotions were scrambled. I couldn’t believe how easily this woman just offended me, how flippant her words were. And not only that, but with one sentence she essentially told me that the five years I spent in college learning about Creative Writing and all of my passion for writing is nothing.

                All week her words have been ringing around in my mind. “They’re just stories. “ I am no longer offended, but rather I have a response that I wish I would have come up with when she had first said her piece. Yes, they are “just” stories. Yes, I like to both read and write them. However, there are a few things about writing and about “stories” you should know.

                When I write I am getting into another persons mindset; their lives, thoughts, hopes, dreams, and desires. I am not escaping from reality, I am diving head first into the human condition. It is messy and convoluted, just as “real life” is.

                As for the history of stories: telling stories whether histories or something that was come up with on the spot. Stories bring people together. They teach about the past, the present and the future. Stories and ability to come up with new ones is something that is unique to modern humans. It separates us from every other animal on the planet. While the rest of the animals were cowering in the dark, we were telling stories around the campfire.

                Stories tell us who we are. And besides, history is usually written by the “winners”, which means they are often skewed. How are the histories and biographies NOT stories? The only difference is that these stories happened. All of the stories, whether they are fiction or fact teach us something about ourselves. They teach us of our faults, our prides, our aspirations as a species.

                We need stories. Both fiction and fact to be who we are. I am no longer upset with her and her ignorant comments, I actually feel sorry for her that she can’t see past her own bias.