Finding the Story

Today was quite the day. The morning kicked off with some absolutely tropical humidity, and then the temperature started to rise. I was out there this morning melting away, getting chased by a stray dog, wondering how it could get so hot so fast, but then the clouds came in. Quickly. Then my phone chimed off with one of those shrieking alarms telling me (and everyone else) to head for shelter in light of the tornado warning. I went inside, the winds picked up, and a monstrous storm exploded onto the scene, replete with green skies, twisting winds, and debris everywhere. It was a drive-by storm, with the worst over before it could be appreciated, and before long the rain ended. In its wake, however, were flooded viaducts, scattered branches, downed trees, blinking traffic lights and power outages.

So, as a writer, I am thinking, "Where's the story here?"

When I say, "Where's the story," you might think, "It's right there in the first paragraph. You sketched out the key points in that one space!" That's where the difference lies - the first paragraph contains the information of this afternoon's events, and the setting for whatever story I may write. However, the storm itself is not very story-worthy. It was impressive, yes, but telling people all about the details of the storm is not storytelling, it's reporting. Finding the story is locating that one thread within the events and tracing that valuable path as it tells about a specific aspect of life. 

If I were to tell a story about this morning and the run-up to the storm, it would've involved the tensions surrounding my late-morning/noontime events. I was hot, tired, and saturated with sweat, trying to get my work outside completed. However, nature had other plans. I was repeatedly approached and harrassed by a stray dog acting erratically and drooling around the mouth. My legs grew exhausted as I tried to complete the last mile's-worth of work - all with this dog lurking nearby. I called the local police and got animal control to come out and round up the dog, knowing my clock was ticking and I had very little energy left but work had to be done. With the dog situation in someone else's hands, I went back to my last responsibilities, but saw the clouds on the horizon. Dark, scary clouds. Now I had to make a choice - race against time in my fatigued state and try to wrap things up before the storm hit, or play it safe, get inside, and dive for cover because my work could be finished afterward. 

The focus onthe challenge of time and fatigue versus completing the tasks at hand draws interest; it creates an urge in the reader to figure out how things will go. There's a need for resolution that only the story can satisfy. The storm itself is one of the forces working against the character, along with fatigue, heat, and the ever-present dog, but the story is about the challenge of completing things.

And to offer some closure, I did wrap up my duties, got inside, watched the storm from the relative safety of my own home, then went out to hand off my work.

I do not, however, know what happened to the dog.