There’s always the chance for a story. And anyone who knows me, knows I never miss a chance to share one. Or, better still, share a lesson in telling stories.
Last month, I had the most splendid array of
bruising on three fingers and half the palm of my left hand. What a fantastic
opportunity to have some fun!
‘What happened?’ asked one of my writing students.
‘Wanna hear a story?’ I replied.
She nodded.
‘A boxing match,’ I said. ‘Well … not much of a
match, really. He swung, I ducked. I swung, he didn’t.’ I shrugged. ‘He hit the
dirt.’
Silently, she gave me an open-mouthed stare. She was obviously shocked that I’d punched someone. And my casual response may have even made me seem like a thug.
Right now, I’m hoping you are in the same headspace
as she was.
I don’t like violence. I especially dislike it in
stories for children. Not in any story, really. But it happens in so many. So, this
is the point where I offer a little lesson.
What if I now tell you that the man was attacking a
child? And the child made a dash for freedom before being cornered, whereby I
stepped between the child and the man?
I could see by my student’s face that she’d made a
shift in her response to me hitting the man. I’m now hoping you’ve done the
same.
It’s likely that you’re relieved that I stepped in.
Could even make me seem like a hero. The lesson here is all about the reveal.
It’s about what you tell and when you tell it.
Without knowing the full picture, the response to
what you’ve been told is limited. Once you know more, you may change your
response.
Okay, so let’s get to the truth. What actually happened was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was sitting on a lounge watching television and suddenly my hand became extremely painful.
When I looked at it, three fingers were swelling
before my eyes. I could barely move them. The pain was dreadful. Slowly, the
fingers and half my palm began to show bruising.
Artificial Intelligence on the internet can be helpful.
It seems that I have something called Achenbach syndrome. AKA ‘painful blue
finger’ or ‘paroxysmal finger menatoma’.
This benign vascular condition resolves on its own
within days or weeks and the cause is unknown.
AI recommended seeing a healthcare professional to
confirm the diagnosis but also said not to bother with unnecessary testing.
Interestingly, it never said anything about using
what happened to tell a story or give a lesson in storytelling.
Fortunately, I am always up for that, and I hope
that anyone interested in either writing or reading can embrace what I’ve
illustrated here. I’ll also leave it up to you to decide if the truth is
actually stranger than fiction.
Emma Cameron has been an editor, author and writing
mentor for over twenty years. Her latest novel through Rhiza Press / Wombat
Books is The King's
Conservatorium
Discover more and connect with Emma via her website.
