On writing stories

For my kids. For readers unknown. And myself.

I’ve always written in part to help myself better understand what I am thinking. Putting words on page has a hypnotic effect in my mind and not only am I able to untangle my thoughts, but also the simple act creates a sort of meditative clarity when I am finished with a session, and even more when I finish a large project. I write because I want to, but also because I need to. It is rarely easy, but does come with a flow state. I also enjoy the challenge of doing something that seems nearly impossible before sitting down to do it.

When I wrote the Four Cornered Forest, it was with my young daughter Gretel in mind. The simple goal was I wanted to make her the hero of a story. It began as a screenplay. I wanted to write the story of Hansel and Gretel because it’s a story I always loved, and a story that I thought would make a cinema. In this version of the story everything follows the tradition story of the fairy tale, the father and stepmother abandon the children in the forest for fear of going hungry. I had to come up with specifics to make it seem reasonable in a longer version of the tale. Why were they hungry? What sort of father abandons his children. Then of course the is the witch, who wants to fatten the children to eat them. It is in fact a very dark story. And creating the deeper reasons and specifics of how it plays out leads to some dark corners of the human spirit, but also allows to show the powerfully strong human nature of overcoming extreme hardship and following hope. This was the story I wanted to create with my daughter at the center. After completing the first version of the story, in which Gretel is the hero and center of the story, I decided to tackle yet another version, this one a modern adaption.

This second version of the screenplay took place in Olney, Montana, up Good Creek, a place some good friends of mine live and that I’ve been able to spend some time. It’s an amazingly magical sort of forest up that way. Large cedars, ferns, tall douglas firs, the makings of a Twin Peaks sort of environment. It’s a quiet place. In this updated version a virus breaks out (this was written nearly a decade before Covid) and roads are shut down, and people start hunting one another. An old fling comes to interrupt the marriage of Hansel and Gretel’s parents and their mother is eventually killed before the woman convinces the father to abandon them.

While writing this version I had the idea to do yet another. I liked the early two versions, but a mixed timeline with something of a mystery about the forest, in which the forest takes on a central role in the forest came to mind. A third screenplay was written, taking largely from the first two, and bouncing between the time lines.

And I liked this version, but as I completed it I had one more final idea. I wanted to write it as a novel. The Four Cornered Forest. It is the story of Hansel and Gretel, though I changed Hansels name, for no good reason perhaps other than it just seemed appropriate to tweak it. Gretel is the center of the story. It is written from her perspective. It allows more time to build the characters and dive into the dark psychology that could lead to such a story playing out.

As a father that grew up with all brothers, it has always been fascinating parenting a girl, especially as a first child. There were moments where I was utterly perplexed at the emotions that were playing out before me. Things that truly confused me. Boys and girls are very different creatures. And while I often could see myself in her, there were other times in which I deferred to my wife, saying, I have no clue what is going on here. Writing this book was exciting because I was able to take things I saw in her and dive into them on page.

Soon after I began the novel form of the story I already had in mind the story I wanted to write for my son. I wanted to also make him the hero of a story. It would be an adventure tale with a Santa Clause. I have years of notes about the story. But after finishing the Four Cornered Forest I had another idea I had to pursue first. It was another story based with Gretel at the center. A completely unrelated story from the first, but what would become part of what I think will be a Mountain Trilogy, though I’m not exactly sure about the third book yet. But the second one hit hard, and I decided to write it while she was still around, living at home, and then I’d move on to my sons book.

The second book is the Bison and The Magpie, which I finished this last winter. I got the name from a friend’s instagram account. She abandoned the name and I asked if she minded if I used it for the book, which she endorsed enthusiastically. The name alone was incredible inspiration every time I sat to write.

This book is the tale of a young woman in a ranch family in southwestern Montana. The family is close and strong, but financially unstable. When their shepherd from Peru, who is up on a several year contract to watch sheep in the mountains for the summer dies suddenly, the young woman, Magpie, again based on my daughter, decides to take upon herself living alone in the mountains for the summer. She is only 14. It’s not a complicated book, but goes into the trials and joys of living alone in the mountains over a summer. It was a very fun book to write that pulled from my own experiences in the mountains working trails, fires, and as a fire lookout, but again centers on the incredible person that is my daughter.

So now I’m diving into my son’s book, the homage to him. This book is for Simon. And while I won’t go into the specifics of the book yet, I am only now at the beginning stages of the book, there are things I think about with regards to what I want to convey for him.

The approach for the two books is slightly different. Writing about my daughter was largely an act of observing her, looking at her traits, and really trying to amplify them into a story. This third book is doing the same, but in some ways I have always felt a sort of given understanding with my son, in which I watch him at times as he is exploring something new or experiencing an emotion that I do not have to think at all to understand. I get it. I’ve been there. That was me! I’ve had that same train of thought. So in that regard there is a strange sort of leap made in my writing of the story because it has some of the questions already built into my perspective as the writer. As a result I find myself wanting to include components of what I hope I can pass to him in knowledge as a parent. But I also just want it to be a story of fun and adventure.

As a family we do not shy from talking about things we think need to be talked about. We are very open in this way. We try to not make things a big deal. But rather, we are a close family and as a result big discussions can be just that, discussions. No one on the spot, no urgent issues. We pursue low drama and have been that way since day one. But from time to time discussions to sway into terrain I know the kids would perhaps rather move on from. But that are important. I view it as my role as a parent to not avoid these things, but be frank. We only get so many years to impart what we have learned in life and to help give them the tools and guides to then moving on independent of us, and while they of course can and will come back for small guidances, I know from my own life that sometime in the early 20’s I wanted to do things on my own. So time is limited. So sometimes we bring up that it is for example very important to do hard things that challenge us. It is important to follow through with commitments. It is certainly important to always be honest first with ourselves, and second with those around us.

As I dive into this book it’s a different sort of writing than I’ve done before. The voice is slightly different. In many ways I wonder where the words come from. I’ve heard other artists claim that the role of the artist isn’t to create, but to interpret and take in… from some magical, invisible force in the sky. To take the voice out of the air, and put it down into a form. And it’s true, I don’t necessarily think the best words that come from me are actually coming from me, but are a part of some bigger picture in the universe. I’ve always had a vivid imagination when it comes to the fact that all molecular structures are in some ways connected, regardless of how distant they are from one another, and there are strange and spiritual possibilities with this potential. In many ways this story is exploring what it means to be connected to a world of mystery, that we do not every fully understand but that we are absolutely connected to.

So these last few weeks I’ve started diving in. There is a lot of seclusion involved in writing a book. In part because of the need to focus, in part because of the need to try to comprehend it. To truly delve into ideas and how to connect them. And how to build a structure. And then fill in the walls and rooms of the structure, with everything from the furniture to the personalities and stories within it.

As I’ve stated before, juggling a family, work, and trying to write a book are anything but easy. But I actually find that even while it may slow the process for me, it would be almost impossible without these “distractions” as they often offer a picture of the world from which to pull much of what goes into the story. The struggles I find and have found myself in over the years are the very struggles that come through in the story.

So it is under way. My brain is often humorously and enormously distracted. And I couldn’t be more excited than to finally all these years later, and years of note taking, get to dive into this story in which a character based on the one and only Simon takes to page as he sets out on a journey into the northern lands of ice and aurora that ultimately will save Christmas. And in this journey he has with him a dog who can speak. This dog of course is part of my own history and as valuable a companion on an exploration journey as anyone could be. I’ll be excited to finish this one and share it with you. And of course by the time I’m done, the character will be its own just as the Gretel in Four Cornered Forest is based on my daughter but very distinct from her, so it will be in this story no doubt. That is another of the wonders of writing. These characters become their own person, and their history, at least in my mind, is wildly unique to them. It’s such a strange endeavor as a writer… I shake my head, and think I may need to go jump in the creek for clarity.

As I think about the lessons my parents taught me, often indirectly but often very directly, I’m struck by what I want to share with my own kids. Time is one of the best things we can give our kids, but there are certainly values, even morals we want to convey as well. I know when I was a teenager my parents would say things that I took to heart, but that seem to have passed through my head, leaving an impression, but not with specificity. Young people aren’t to blame for this. It is how it works. It is why as a parent it is just as important to live the story you tell. Actions louder than words sort of thing. In the end the big picture, the big story, has all the lessons and values built in, even if we don’t see each one specifically.

But also, now that I am older and my own dad is slowly fading in age, not necessarily able to recall past conversations, I find myself curious about the specifics of how they went about passing this information along to me. Even as I pass things along to my own kids I realize I am often learning that very lesson myself. And that is why it feels so important. And if I can help them have the tools to make challenges easier to face… Life is always with difficulties and challenges, but how can I offer the tools and maps… So putting things into a story, into words, feels like I am not only hopeful that these things will eventually be laid out for my kids to see and reflect on, and help bring memories of our younger years as a family together, but also, selfishly, putting these things into words helps me solidify the ideas and concepts for my own self, my own future, my own improvement in living on earth.

This is one of the reasons I write. It is at times no doubt a selfish endeavor, but it is also a core part of who I am. Decades into writing, now well over half of my life dedicated to it, I can’t imagine not taking the time to do it.