Skip to main content

Fictitious Truth

My sister has always--in my eyes--been the family story teller. She knows how to slowly weave through a narrative so that by the end the pieces all fit together into a perfect tapestry. I love listening to her build because I know that the funny part is just around the corner.

Through her stories she made me believe she was a changeling for an entire afternoon. I think it was one of the best afternoons I had as a kid. However, it is because of times like these that I wonder: how many of her stories are fact and how many are fiction?

Let me paraphrase one of my favorite stories from my sister for you.

One day I was walking down the hallway [in middle school], and I saw this girl wearing a candy necklace. It looked so good that I couldn't believe the girl hadn't eaten it. As she was passing by I couldn't resist. I extend my head out [mimicking actions] and try to snag a piece of candy off her necklace.

I am sure my response was something like "What?!?" probably with a dropped jaw. Of course knowing I was hooked probably only urged her to continue the story. Which continued with:

Unfortunately, I missed the necklace and bit her neck.

You might think me really gullible, a really gullible kid, but you have to admit. This is an awesome story, and at this point, I normally like to tell it as truth--well at least a fictitious truth.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Horror Stories.

I just recently finished reading Dracula by Bram Stoker, and lets just say it put me in a "horror" mood. When my teacher asked us in our English class to write about things in an elevator. All I could think about was finding a note like this: If you are finding this note, and the elevator has stopped, then you will not make it out alive. Dracula was an extremely good book, which I highly recommend. However, I shouldn't read too many more horror stories--I don't seem to escape them very well.
2 comments
Read more

The Curse of a Book

The last thing I heard was a slap "Don't worry, I'll be back, When you've finished that"    Turning my head not missing a beat The villain had set down--what? There laid the tale to be told.   Papers on papers, like tortuous fiends. smiled at me with dangerous edges, waiting--willing--for me to read.    "Mother" I pleaded, banging on my door "I'll do anything, everything," I begged just come play with me some more.   Silence, a moment, then again, I heard "Don't worry, I'll be back, When you've finished that."    I hit my head against the wall until the ringing in my head sounded as if bell were singing their painful groans.   When that was done, and no one listen, I took the book to pretend that I was a weight lifter.   Then, I was a track star-- Shot put to be specific. Launching it like a missile.   It came crashing down not far away. Sprawled out li
Post a Comment
Read more

Typos

Typos are the bane of my existence. I never seem to be able to escape them. I read over my work 2 or 3 times, and then read it aloud. Over the years , my frustration with these simple and small mistakes have manifested in different ways. Once, I tried to get into an editing class and ended up with a linguistic minor. Other times, I have given up after multiple edits. However, the worst things I have done to deal with this problem are to hide my writing and ignore the problem. The truth is that as English Teaching Major, it is frankly quite embarrassing to make these mistakes because I lose credibility. Of course, when I think of asking for help, I get stuck with the dilemma of who to ask. Why would you ask a fellow English Major to read your work through? Why would you ask someone who is not an English Major? These preconceived notions of mine are useless. If I have problems editing my own work, then I am sure that other people are having the same problems as me. I don't want to
1 comment
Read more