There is a particular kind of story that doesn't begin with you. It was already old when you first heard it. Passed to you across a kitchen table, or a fire, or the particular silence that falls when someone older decides the moment is right. You didn't choose it. It chose you — the way certain things choose certain people, because they need somewhere to live for a while. And one day, without quite deciding to, you will pass it on. We tend to think of storytelling as a solita
Every memory is already a story — shaped, edited, and told by you. Discover what this means for the craft of storytelling and the narrator you're becoming.
