I love to tell stories. It’s a delight for me.
A good love story always keeps the pot boiling.
I learnt to love reading. And then I started scribbling stories, and I liked that even more.
What would there be in a story of happiness? Only what prepares it, only what destroys it can be told.
You get old and you realize there are no answers, just stories.
I don’t have a great eye for detail. I leave blanks in all of my stories. I leave out all detail, which leaves the reader to fill in something better.
Could it be that simple? Tell one story to one generation and repeat it until it was accepted as fact?
Every single ordinary person has an extraordinary story.
Yesterday was a closed book, tomorrow, however, was another story.
I write human stories. I write about people. Not as a product of their environment. But from the stance that everybody is made of the same thing.
It’s not about finding Mr Right, or that sort of conventional ending, but I do want my characters to have hope – and that’s what I do with all my stories.
They say a story loses something with each telling.
There are only three possible endings -aren’t there? – to any story: revenge, tragedy or forgiveness. That’s it. All stories end like that.
There’s something about the authenticity rather than the autobiography that makes my story and my pain move across and become your story and your pain.
Part fact part fiction is what life is. And it is always a cover story. I wrote my way out.
When we let ourselves respond to poetry, to music, to pictures, we are clearing a space where new stories can root, in effect we are clearing a space for new stories about ourselves.
Everyone who tells a story tells it differently, just to remind us that everybody sees it differently.
I choose this story above all others because it’s a story I’m struggling to end.
I didn’t want to tell the story of myself, but someone I called myself. If you read yourself as fiction, it’s rather more liberating than reading yourself as fact.
Tell me a story, Pew. What kind of story, child? A story with a happy ending. There’s no such thing in all the world. As a happy ending? As an ending.