Our Core Stories
I recently read an interview with an author I admire in which he was talking about how writers tend to have core stories – themes that show up regularly in their work, though they may not even be conscious of it. It really got me thinking about my own body of work and my own core stories. Did I have core stories? Would I even know what they were? I’ve certainly never set out to weave particular themes into my books and I’d probably doggedly insist that all of my works are quite different, except...
The truth is, when I was writing my fourth book, Side Effects, I did have a frankly shocking revelation that all of my books contained a strong element dealing with the sacred responsibilities and complexities of father-son or mother-daughter relationships. In fact, my first book, Ripple Effects, so blatantly explores this theme that you’d think I’d have worn the topic threadbare – but no, apparently not; upon reflection, it seems to be a recurring plot point in every single book I’ve written!
And being the lucky mother of two girls, I do find that rather revealing, even if, candidly, I’m not sure what it reveals – at the very least, it probably shows that this is a topic of great importance to me, and always near to the surface.
So as an interesting exercise, I decided to put some thought into what other core stories might be lurking within the pages of my smallish body of work. Sure enough, there were a few that jumped out:
• The enduring imprint of childhood experiences;
• Cooking as a symbol of the creation of home;
• An ongoing fascination with creativity, creative people, and the creative process;
• And of course, people do tend to red drink wine, read a lot, and bake with varying degrees of success.
But we all have our core stories, don’t we? Whether they’re things wrestle with, things we love, things we can’t quite understand but want to, somehow. They’re the things that make us uniquely who we are as individuals, and yet there is a commonality to them, as well, that is so lovely and reassuring. That’s the beauty of books, I think, for both readers and writers. Words connect us. There is no human experience that any of us knows alone. Someone has walked that path before. Someone has said in words what it feels like, what it means. Every story is important – yours, mine, ours. And yes, they’re very much worth repeating.
My fifth novel, A Fall of Light, is out Sept. 4.
A Fall of Light
The truth is, when I was writing my fourth book, Side Effects, I did have a frankly shocking revelation that all of my books contained a strong element dealing with the sacred responsibilities and complexities of father-son or mother-daughter relationships. In fact, my first book, Ripple Effects, so blatantly explores this theme that you’d think I’d have worn the topic threadbare – but no, apparently not; upon reflection, it seems to be a recurring plot point in every single book I’ve written!
And being the lucky mother of two girls, I do find that rather revealing, even if, candidly, I’m not sure what it reveals – at the very least, it probably shows that this is a topic of great importance to me, and always near to the surface.
So as an interesting exercise, I decided to put some thought into what other core stories might be lurking within the pages of my smallish body of work. Sure enough, there were a few that jumped out:
• The enduring imprint of childhood experiences;
• Cooking as a symbol of the creation of home;
• An ongoing fascination with creativity, creative people, and the creative process;
• And of course, people do tend to red drink wine, read a lot, and bake with varying degrees of success.
But we all have our core stories, don’t we? Whether they’re things wrestle with, things we love, things we can’t quite understand but want to, somehow. They’re the things that make us uniquely who we are as individuals, and yet there is a commonality to them, as well, that is so lovely and reassuring. That’s the beauty of books, I think, for both readers and writers. Words connect us. There is no human experience that any of us knows alone. Someone has walked that path before. Someone has said in words what it feels like, what it means. Every story is important – yours, mine, ours. And yes, they’re very much worth repeating.
My fifth novel, A Fall of Light, is out Sept. 4.
A Fall of Light
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