Stories, Life Lessons, & Crime

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

I never knew what I wanted to be, which is probably how I ended up being a writer. I grew up on a farm far from most things, and books were my primary source of entertainment. My parents never said no to books, so I always had things to read. I read through the entire selection of Goosebumps books at my elementary school. I read the Ramona series, Nancy Drew, Anne of Green Gables, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Sarah Dessen and Meg Cabot. I read the old, dusty books I found in our basement. For awhile in middle school, I read a new book every night, returning it the next day to the librarian who kindly suggested the next series for me to tackle. I loved the smell of books, the feel of books, the way I felt like I knew the characters by the time I finished. I loved being transported to different places. Maybe I liked the escape. Maybe I liked believing that my life could be different.

Stories are vital. They are how we understand life. And, they’re everywhere. Companies tell consumers stories about their products or services. The way you dress tells a story. The way we argue is a story. The way we love is a story. The way we learn is through story. And sometimes, the way we hurt ourselves and others is a big, complicated, blurry story.