“…they pulled from their stock of stories tales about the old folk…Testimonies to endurance, wit, skill and strength…of luck and outrage….About their own lives they shut up….As though past heroism was enough of a future…”-Toni Morrison
Before I ever heard of Peter Parker, I met a much trickier man. I remember how real he seemed. His cunning and wit, his selfishness and helpfulness, his comeuppances, his curses, and his gifts. He gave as often as he took, reminding me a few real people I knew. He went by a few names, but the one I best recall is Anansi.
Synovial sidenotes and the chambers of a story’s heart.
What fuels a story is similar to what fuels a man. Although stories aren’t dead or alive, they’re the breath of us. They capture a little bit of our soul power. When writing a story, you’ve got to ensure it’s properly infused with this essence.
I’m still kind of figuring that out, honestly. I only even shared the story above because of what I read in The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck. Manson does a great job of beginning with the end in mind with his three subtleties implemented throughout the book. I’m not yet done manifesting my soul power (i.e. dignity), but I’ll let you know when I get there. Until then, I’m going to focus on what I can, like the little leaps and bounds of small wins.