It seems strange because I mean I come from a family of talkers and of storytellers, people who love to narrate. I don’t mean people who just create artificial situations, who just extrapolate, I mean, people who can just take something that just happened, the smallest bit of fabric and create an entire quilt. You’re mesmerized.
So I’ve always loved oral storytelling, the listening of it. You have to hear stories for a very long time to understand tension and release, to understand why minor characters matter, to understand why the crone in the wood is so critical, as critical as the hero. And sometimes she is the hero. We don’t know it.
When you know your folk tales and your fairy tales and your myths and legends, the “398.” section of the local library, a beautiful place to visit that’s to me, a very solid place to start with story. But where does your own voice come from? There is no, that’s like what’s the meaning of life. Everyone wants the answer. I can tell you my answer for me. And that’s that … the more you tell the unbearable truths, the closer you come to finding your voice.