I never saw myself as a storyteller. I saw myself as a listener, a reader, a lover of stories, not a teller of them.
Even now, I’m not entirely convinced. I see myself more as a steward than a teller. I hold these stories, precious and beautiful as they are, as near my heart as I can get them. But the funny thing about stories is that they are discontent to be held; they want to fly, loosed upon the world. The longer I hold onto them, the wilder and more frenetic they get. They won’t be captive.
So I have learned to let them go, to fall or fly on their own, and I no longer hold them back from their promise. I am a steward of these stories, and my prayer is simply that I do no harm to them while they are in my care.