Telling Stories

I've always been really good at telling stories. I can lie with the best of them. It's strategy, really. Knowing when it's going to work, and when it won't. One time, when I was a teenager my mother was on a 'who did this' expedition. My husband likes to take those, too. I tend to steer clear and this is probably why. It's possible I saw it coming, maybe I didn't. I'm just not sure anymore, but I answered to a few of her questions with a contrite positive... [I'm going to remember those as being true]. On her next inquiry, the stakes were higher. The punishment most likely steeper. I'd definitely commited this offense, but realized in a moment of panic--or calculation--I couldn't answer truthfully. So I lied.

...and she said, "She could trust me because I'd already been truthful about the other offenses."

GEEZ! Doesn't that just bite?! I mean, I didn't renege. Of course not! Perhaps I even felt a little satisfaction that my strategy worked. I mean, I was young, stupid, a teenager. I'm not saying teenagers are a bunch of liars.... but there's a measure of testing that occurs as we figure the world around us out. I'm lucky to have felt the guilt. It shows my parents were doing something right.

Speaking of telling stories, I finished Black Hills. Went to bed last night, then skipped my exercise this morning and kept reading until lunch time. [yes, this means I accomplished nothing] So, I read this and think, "How does she do it?"

I can see the elements, and they make me think of my own book. Just when I think I've got something, I bite my lip and wonder if it's going to work. Well, it's too late for that now. On this manuscript anyway. :D So I'm off to write the synopsis so I can finally send this thing out.

Thanks for stopping in.