We all have stories to tell. Some of us write them, others relate them orally. Some folks do both. Our stories help define who we are, connect us with our ancestors (and perhaps with our descendants), and the world at large.
Stories can entertain, enlighten, educate, and inspire. They can soothe, terrify, support, tear down, unite, or divide us. We are transitory, but our stories can endure.
The purpose of this website and blog is to explore the world of sharing stories and perhaps inspire you to share some stories of your own.
For me, it all started with the sudden realization that I’ve led an amazingly interesting life. Upon introspection, three major categories shook out:
The short stories are easy. As I recall memorable—often funny—events, I jot them down. When time allows, I return to the list, choose an idea, and flesh out the story. More often than not, this triggers additional memories to add to the idea list. When I have enough of these stories written, I hope to put the collection into book form. Meanwhile, I’ve put a couple of samples on the Short Stories tab of this website.
Nature nuggets are easy, too. Most of my short stories share personal experiences in the great outdoors. Some of them nudge me to dig a little deeper into some aspect of nature that appears in the tale. What I learn by doing this is invariably fascinating and worthy of passing along. Maybe someday I’ll have enough of these collected for a book, too. For now, though, I’m working on adding a Nature Nuggets tab to this website.
Books? This one isn’t quite so easy, other than publishing collections of shorter tales. But I am making significant progress. I've got two under my belt now, and am working on two more.
S. G. (Sandy) Benson writes from her home in the mountains of western North Carolina, where she lives with her husband, Barry, and two bossy dachshunds.
Why Out on a Limb? A forester by training, she worked in the woods most of her life. Along the way, she published a real estate magazine and wrote many outdoors articles for newspapers and magazines. Recently, she’s begun ‘branching out’—sharing tales at local storyteller gatherings and working on several book ideas. She published her first book in 2021: My Mother’s Keeper: One Family’s Journey Through Dementia and her second book, Dear Folks: Letters Home 1943-1946, World War II in 2024. See the Books tab for details and ordering information.
A sense of dread overwhelms me on the eve of America’s first coronation. I don’t know what lies ahead, but I do know that I am afraid. In a conscious effort to be grateful for the small things that can brighten such moments, I’ll share with you something that happened this morning.
A classmate of mine lost his home in the Los Angeles-area wildfires. My heart goes out to him and his family, as well as the thousands of other folks who suddenly found themselves homeless. It surprised me that the fires burned across regular suburban neighborhoods as well as the chapparal-covered hillsides where luxury homes nestle—and burn on a regular basis.
Recently, I stopped by my insurance agency. A personable young man sat behind the reception desk, chatting with another customer. He greeted me with a smile.
I read thirty-seven books in 2024, six fewer than last year. The list does not include four books I started reading but didn’t finish. Nor does it include the gazillion or so articles, newsletters, and white papers I’ve read about current events. This is the primary reason I neglected to read what interests me most. I’ve spent countless hours wringing hands and grieving about what appears to be the collapse of our world. I’ve already done what I think I can do to counter that, but I finally recognize that it is beyond my power to change things on a macro scale. My new year’s resolution is to focus on the micro scale. Little actions can make a difference. I’m up for that.
My friend, Mary Ricketson, graciously granted me permission to share her Christmas article that appeared in her monthly column, "Woman to Woman," in December 2024, in the Cherokee Scout, Murphy, NC. Thank you, Mary. I echo your sentiments.
Earlier this year I discovered Persimmon Tree, an online magazine of the arts by women over sixty. Its publisher says, “Too often older women’s artistic work is ignored or disregarded, and only those few who are already established receive the attention they deserve. Yet many women are at the height of their creative abilities in their later decades and have a great deal to contribute. Persimmon Tree is committed to bringing this wealth of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and art to a broader audience, for the benefit of all.”