People Are
Stories-in-Progress
As a head’s up, this online version of People Are Stories-in-Progress is more than 44,000 words long. That’s as long as some novels.
There are some typos and errors in these web pages, which I’ve corrected in the eBook. I will eventually correct those errors here in the online version as well, but since there’s other stuff I’m excited to make, I’m not rushing that process. My goal is to complete this online update by September 2023. This banner will disappear when this page has been revised.
(Please note: I didn’t make any major changes in the updated eBook—I only refined the wording slightly, so you’re still getting a very similar experience between the two versions.)
About the Season’s Stories
To explain how to understand or structure stories, I need to tell you stories.
I’ve chosen which ones to tell you with great care.
What Did These Stories in Common?
I own the rights to tell these stories.
Only one of the stories is from my novels, tracking a central subplot around Lena LaMarelle, a main character in the Ever Afters, my series for middle grade readers. I use an example from my own books, because I own the rights to tell that story. If I used examples from other books, I would need to ask permission.
I tell stories from my own life for exactly the same reason: I have the right and permission to tell the stories that shaped me, the same way I convey what shaped my fictional characters.
If people truly are stories-in-progress, then I am too. To demonstrate that fully, I have to share deeply. That may help you start to recognize similar threads in your own life.
Developing that awareness helps you tell better stories—yes, also in the way you talk about your own life, but also in fiction. After all, we’ve all heard, Write what you know. The more you understand your own life, the more you’ll see how much you can share through your characters.
Each of the stories take place over a multi-year period.
I've chosen stories with a multi-year period, because that is:
how life works and
how the subplots in my multi-book series work.
Each contains three smaller complete stories.
This is the Rule of Threes, a helpful story structure trick I learned from fairy tales.
I have grouped each of this season’s stories into three smaller but complete stories; together, they make up a bigger whole. The Rule of Threes is a trick I learned from fairy tales. In the Ever Afters-era, I wrote about it here. You can read that article if you like, but here’s a quick summary: A pair of linked incidents can be dismissed as a coincidence, but three linked incidents demonstrate a pattern, which leads to more potent meaning.
Of the three smaller, linked stories, the first story only contains our beginning circumstances. We often have limited control over this stage—each person inherits conditions simply by being born, after all. Then something happens, and we make meaning from it.
The second story shows more recognition: we see ourselves in relationship to others and we begin to recognize what we do impacts others.
The third story is acting on our self-awareness and engaging our agency to make an impact on our corner of the world, even if that corner of the world is just our own life, plus maybe some of the people who already know us.
You’ve already seen me demonstrate this in the story that opened this Season, the one about going to college:
Story 1: I go to college and feel like a complete weirdo, even among the other writers, because I have a different approach to writing than everyone I see, including my peers and professors.
Story 2: When I’m asked about how I create character and craft subplot, I realized how much I have to say about both these subjects, and since my approach weaves together both, I won’t be able to separate these two. I spend years thinking about how to articulate this.
Story 3, which may not have been obvious since you’re seeing it in action right now: I decide to write it all out and share my approach anyway, believing that it may contain tools for other writers.
This is the Rule of Threes: Once is an incident. Twice is coincidence. The third time can be different if your character is aware and confident enough to choose something different—or if you yourself are.
Magic happens in the space between the second and the third instance of any given pattern. That’s when you begin to understand what you already know and what you can do with that knowledge.
My aim in sharing these stories and the tools that accompany them is to help you to make your own magic.
When we reach the end of the season, I will talk a bit more about the Magic of Threes. Specifically, I will talk a bit about what happens beyond their limits—after all, there are more than three points in any story and in any life.
For now, I just wanted to share this tool so that you can be on the lookout for it in the stories that make up this Season.
Each story covers some subjects that often make people uncomfortable.
For trigger warning purposes, those uncomfortable subjects are:
losing a job
death of a family member and the grief that follows
fairy tale violence to young characters, including battles and losing limbs (if you’ve read the Ever Afters already, you’ll know exactly what I mean)
a serious (though non-fatal) health crisis, one unrelated to COVID
These subjects may be tender for you, because they could hit you in an area that is still healing.
I’m revising these stories in 2022, a couple years after the pandemic began.
By now, the question isn’t: Have you been impacted?
The question is: How much have you been impacted?
What I’ve actually started asking people is: How are you holding up?
That gave the person I was asking the opportunity to tell me what they wanted to tell me. Some said, “Fine,” and the conversation moved on. Some would share exactly what they were going through. In other words, they would show me their tender places, the wounds that were in various stages of healing.
I believe that we’re all still in a similar place.
I chose the stories I’ll share to illustrate these tools when I first started drafting this Season, back in January 2020, before most of us understood how much the pandemic would affect the planet. The stories I’ve chosen are even more triggering now than they were back then, but I believe that they’re the right ones for the same reason I did then.
Pain tells you where tending is necessary. In the Ever Afters, I wrote: “Living will carve you open. You can’t choose what wounds you. You can only choose what seals the scar.” For me, making meaning through creativity is the way I choose to seal the scar, and through the stories I tell and the tools I share, I demonstrate how I’ve actually sealed the scar.
I share the stories and tools in the hope that they help you create your own meaning.
However, it is up to you to have the discernment to decide what you’re available for.
It’s possible that you aren’t currently available to read these stories. Maybe you’re already using all your emotional capacity in a situation which is still unfolding, and in the little free time you have left, you’re only in the mood for light-hearted stories. Maybe you have recently weathered similar experiences, and with those memories so fresh, you are feeling too tender to revisit these now. That’s also completely valid.
You know your needs best. If this Season isn’t for you right now, I support your clarity, and I cheer you on as you take care of your needs.
You can always this Season later on. As I mentioned, I plan to keep this Season up on the site indefinitely, so you can always circle back when you’re ready.
I am only sharing stories I’ve already integrated.
This one is important, because it means that even though the material describes tough events in my past, I do not require you to tend me through it.
I’ve walked through these experiences already with my loved ones. Now, telling these stories feels freeing rather than tender. Even though some of the events I describe unraveled me at the time, I’ve rewoven the loose threads back into greater understanding.
So, when you read, or listen to one of these stories, you only need to read.
You may reserve your emotional tending for yourself and your loved ones.
So Why Did You Choose These Stories?
Though these stories describe difficulty, these stories also show that tough times are navigable.
A full story isn’t the same as a happy ending, or even a happy middle. I've chosen these three stories, because they demonstrate the rhythm that happens when pain gives way to growth. The People-Are-Stories-in-Progress framework has helped me the most when I am going through painful chapters of my life, even one as painful as a pandemic, and I believe that it can help others in the midst of their own painful chapters.
My intention in using these stories now is to show: Even if you’re in the murky middle of your own life, or you’re trying to make sense of recent events, you can gain a perspective that will guide you to a better place—one day and one decision at a time.
Instead of just telling you that these tools helped me, I would like to show you when and where precisely they helped me. So, I’ll use stories of those painful chapters.
With all those in mind, if you’re still on board, let’s take a walk into story structure.
Specifically, let’s look at how I personally look at story structure.