Welcome to Story Power. In this new column, I’m excited to explore with you the powerful effects that stories have on our lives.
Telling stories is an integral part of what it means to be human. Since the dawn of man, we’ve told stories to pass along survival information, to educate and inform, to discover ourselves, and to entertain. Every day we tell hundreds of stories as we navigate our way through the day.
In the six years since I started Life Without Baby, I’ve told my own story of infertility and shared the stories of others. I’ve learned from other people and come to better understand my own experience. I’ve used that collective knowledge to tell a bigger story about what it’s like to survive unexpected childlessness and to create a new narrative for a life without children.
At the same time, I’ve been telling other stories, made-up stories of fictional people and situations. What I’ve learned is that, even in writing about something I’ve never experienced personally (such as surviving a deadly virus as a teenager—my novel-in-progress) so much of my own story finds its way onto the page as I explore themes that are relevant to my own life.
What I hope to do here in Story Power is help you understand your own experience through the power of story. We’ll explore how story helps us make sense of our lives and how we can use story to inform, educate, and inspire ourselves and others. I’ll share tips and exercises to help you tell your own story, and share other people’s stories (both true and fictional) as inspiration. Along the way, I’ll let you in on some of my own story telling progress and what I’m learning as I move into this new stage of my life.
This Story Power blog feels like the next logical step for me on my journey, as I move beyond my identity as an infertility blogger and back toward my original destination as a novelist. Even if you don’t consider yourself a writer, you can come along with me and capture your own story through journaling, audio recording, structured writing, or any other art form. I’ll be playing around with some of these, too.
This project is something of an experiment, so I’d love to hear what you think, what (if anything) excites you about this, and what you’d like to learn or hear about. Please leave me a comment below, and if you’d like to be notified of new posts, there’s a subscribe option in the sidebar.
I look forward to sharing this new chapter with you.
This is so well-timed for me, since I’ve been thinking so much of my writing lately.
About four years ago I started a new job. It’s a good job, I’m enjoying it, it’s better paid than anything I’ve had before.
But it’s also very hard work, in an upbeat tempo and I’ve been close to hitting that famous wall because of stress and fatigue.
Interests are now just vague memories. I used to read maybe three books a month. Now I read about three books a year.
I’ve gained twelve kilos.
I don’t exercise anymore.
Travel? Being social? Being the daughter, sister, friend I want to be? Having the energy to get the dog I want or to volunteer for all the refugees that arrived to my home town?
No.
I haven’t had my own computer in over two years. I never had time or energy to get a new one when my old one gave up.
Before this job I had my own business and part of my job then was writing.
That’s also something I miss a lot and lately I’ve been thinking so much about wanting to write again, what I need to change in my everyday life to be able to, and how to go about that.
So I chose to take this as a sign : )
Lin,
Your story sounds very familiar. I remember also being in that rut and sort of looking up one day and realizing I just wasn’t living anymore. I’m really glad this post got you thinking about writing again. I found it helped me so much to sort out the mess in my head and to connect with other people. I’m glad the post resonated with you.
~Lisa
I can totally relate to this, Lisa!
I began writing as a therapy to take my mind off the gaping hole in my heart. For a while, it was great. I’ve published a novel and am revising the sequel. Everything seemed fine, and I believed I had a safe outlet. But when I got to the epilogue for Bk 3, that’s when it hit me. My characters are going to have children. I’m so torn because it hurts too much to write it, but my readers expect a trilogy because I’ve already made that commitment. It’s yet another reminder of how wrong my life is, and that I can’t escape from this nightmare no matter how hard I try.
Hubby and I just got the news yesterday that this might be the end of our treatment options. I feel so lost, and I don’t know how I’m going to live through this!