Habitual Habitat of the Amy

I kept reading advice columns for how to bring sales to your etsy shop, and one thing they all said is to get a blog.

I can't say this blog has boosted my etsy sales, but it has given me yet another outlet for talking about myself, and that can't be bad--can it?

The direct link to the Etsy shop is HERE

Thursday, December 30, 2010

On Story Telling

As a kid I liked telling stories, but as an adult I'm often amazed that I can get anything out.  This is due mostly to my parents (as many people's faults are).  When I was a kid and I would babble about my day, my mom would only let me go one for a minute or so before she stopped, looked at me and said, "get to the point" or "what's the point of this story?" or something similar.

I firmly believe that this is a horrible thing to say to a child just learning to be social, and I still don't like to tell stories about my life that don't have a Point.  (I will, sometimes, if I'm comfortable with people, but not often).

My dad, on the other hand, has this obsessive need for stories to be True.  You can't tell a story where you mention that "there were a couple of us" and then later mention that there were, in fact, four of you--because 'a couple' can ONLY refer to two people, and so therefore you were lying.  This goes for emphasis as well.  "There were hundreds!" when really you mean "seventy-four exactly" is a lie--and you cannot lie.  Seriously. My parents have gotten in fights over minor details--and if they don't fight over it, then dad will sulk about it until he gets to correct the story to the listeners and absolve mom of her unintentional errors.

So if one of my stories starts out and begins to meander around, trying to reach the Truth as I remember it--with many corrections as I go along, trying not to lie in the story--well, you can thank my dad for that.  And if, as I near the end of a story, I just abruptly cut off and end, well, that's due to my mom.

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