tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77256069324460533972024-03-05T00:11:52.011-08:00Life Story TellingHow to Tell Your Life Story in Writing and MultimediaUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-54776512060161219832010-03-19T12:18:00.000-07:002010-03-19T12:19:42.281-07:00Reality TV at the Santa Barbara Writers' Conference 2008, From a 2 Hour Special That Aired on TV<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kLA3Mmu47oM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kLA3Mmu47oM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-49009811057492967562010-03-14T16:06:00.001-07:002010-03-14T17:49:59.890-07:00Garrison Kellor, A Prairie Home Companion, "The News from Lake Wobegon," Storyteller Extraordinaire, Always a Welcome Companion and a Good ListenGarrison Keillor, Prairie Home Companion, The News From Lake Wobegon. A good companion anytime. Enjoy! There are 99 videos at at his channel on youtube, and I subscribe to get email notices when there's a new one.<br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CzF2Jw2jZd8&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CzF2Jw2jZd8&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-56962747915253835422010-03-12T13:17:00.000-08:002010-03-12T20:16:36.073-08:00Back to the 70's, Poetry, "Ethereal Dream," and an Arabian Horse"Ethereal Dream" was one of the poems I wrote in the 70's that was published internationally by the official publication for the U.S. equestrian team, The Chronicle of the Horse. <br /><br /> <br /><strong>"Ethereal Dream"</strong> <br /><br />Storybook horse, fantasy dream<br />Are you ethereal as you seem?<br />Mane, part of the whispering wind,<br />Floating about you, hair unpinned.<br />You couldn't be part of this world,<br />Ghostly beauty and speed unfurled.<br />Tomorrow let's gallop into the mist,<br />Where rosy dawn bears the sun's kiss.<br />Real it will be, but make-believe it will seem,<br />As if we're riding from life to our dream." <br /><br />I wrote this poem about Sahla Ibn Siham, aka "Victor the Wonder Horse" a pumpkin bay polish Arabian colt that I got as a yearling, raised and trained. He did it all, dressage, jumping, working cattle, trails, liberty performances by vocal commands and hand signals for local adult ed groups. Soulmate spirit horse. <br /><br />He was a character and half. Spirit, intelligence, playing games, mischief maker.<br /><br />One morning I arrived at the stable, finding Victor loose, having breakfast on alfalfa over by the tack room. Smiled at me. Yes, he had a smile like you wouldn't believe, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. A wise guy Houdini horse. <br /><br />He had reached over the top of the dutch door on his stall. Undid the latch that was on the outside of it with his teeth. <br /><br />Eventually we had a whole series of latches on top of latches on his stall's dutch door. He delighted in solving these puzzles. <br /><br />I was going to get him a rubic's cube but never got around to it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-25153507904150022512010-03-11T19:47:00.000-08:002010-03-11T23:49:58.417-08:00Flashback to 1971 - Circus Girl - "Lions, Tigers, and Horses,Oh My!"My horse Commodore and I fit right in at PT Barnum and Bailey Circus at the Cow Palace, San Francisco. <br /><br />He, a good looking tall black-bay with a long mane, wearing a new red halter and a leadrope on one side as a rein. Me, 19 years old, riding him bareback. <br /><br />Lions looked out at us from cages, elephants were led by, people were milling around.<br /><br />It was 1971, my Mom and I moved to Santa Barbara, California. We took a horse trailer up to San Francisco to pick up Commodore. A professional had trailered him across country from Wisconsin. <br /><br />I hadn't seen him for a year, having been away at college. Commodore had been turned out in a giant pasture in Wisconsin.<br /><br />The Cow Palace sign announced "PT Barnum and Bailey Circus." <br /><br />We located the truck driver and Commodore. <br /><br />I knew right away Commodore hadn't forgotten me. <br /><br />I slipped the new red halter on him with the leadrope. "Would you give me a leg up please?" I asked the truck driver. <br /><br />In my mind I said to Commodore, "Comma, I have missed you so much." <br /><br />The past year melted away.<br /><br />Commodore was a tall jumping horse, spirited, and I had never ridden him bareback with only a halter and a leadrope on one side. <br /><br />We instantly connected, tuned in to each other. We took off riding around the circus. <br /><br />We stopped at the lion cage. All kinds of circus animals were in cages nearby or being led around. <br /><br />People in the crowd smiled at us, watched, waved, pointed at him. I knew Commodore was trusting me. That was why he wasn't nervous or spooking. <br /><br />The bystanders probably thought I was a circus girl, one of the bareback riders with her trusty trick horse.<br /><br />In my mind I said to him, "Oh Comma thank you! You're so good." <br /><br />Commodore in his red halter, me riding bareback, we watched the PT Barnum and Bailey circus at the Cow Palace. <br /><br />It was not your everyday experience, but Commodore was not your everyday horse.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-5188174487923105192010-03-10T16:51:00.000-08:002010-03-10T17:02:03.988-08:00Native American Storyteller Little Hawk Shares WisdomThe heartfelt genuine quality of this storytelling by Little Hawk makes it so real, so wonderful. Enjoy. <br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Evh-trlGAlw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Evh-trlGAlw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-78379305254299437102010-03-09T14:34:00.000-08:002010-03-10T00:12:30.059-08:001965 - Slice of Life - Scandal and MeOpen the mind's closet for 1965. <br /><br />I'm 13 years old, and this is the era of "Scandal and Me." Scandal was a black half-Arabian, half-thoroughbred mare. Scandal and I often stayed out on the trails in the snowy winters until after dark. I leaned down low over her neck, shining a flashlight on the paths. It was an adventure. <br /><br />It's 1965, and I'm in the 8th grade. <br /><br />A huge horse farm was built a few years ago across the corn field behind our house. For several years I've been working there every day after school and on Saturdays. <br /><br />In the 6th grade I started at $2 a day and now I am making $3 a day. I give the money to my parents to help with Scandal's expenses. <br /><br />School's from 8 to 3:15, and by 3:40 I'm heading over to Fairlane Farms. Several years ago my parents put in a corral in the back. My dreams came true when I got a beautiful black half-Arabian, half-thoroughbred mare, Scandal.<br /><br />It's winter, and after school it's dash out to throw the bridle and saddle on Scandal, ride through the fields to the horse farm. <br /><br />Put Scandal in an empty stall, start brushing and saddling horses, get the students on their horses, accompany them on any horse that needs exercise or training to the riding ring where the stable owner gives lessons. <br /><br />After half hour in the ring, then I take them for a 15-20 minute trail ride. Then we get the next group of students out for another lesson. <br /><br />If it's raining or snowy the lessons are held in the indoors riding ring, well lit.<br /><br />At 6 pm the second lesson ends, we unsaddle and put the horses away, and start filling water buckets with hoses, cleaning, getting the flakes of hay and filling the grain buckets. <br /><br />The stable owner has a large family and by working there I am part of the extended family.<br /><br />Speakers in the barn and indoor ring provide the times' popular music for our riding and chores. We might be trotting around the ring to "I Wanna Hold Your Haaaand." <br /><br />Now we're done. My friends, who now have horses too, often hang around the barn as it's our second home. We can pretend to be horses. <br /><br />We gallop around, whinnying and neighing, jumping hay bales, barrels, and low post and rails. Since the first grade we've been drawing horses, watching horse movies, dreaming horses, imagining what it's like to be a horse. <br /><br />Now it's 6:30 or close to 7, and it's dark outside in the winter. Scandal and I set out across the snowy fields for home, under the stars. <br /><br /> I carry a flashlight in one hand to light her way on the paths, and lean over close to her mane for warmth, escaping the night wind. I know she will take good care of me. We're that close. <br /><br />There's a flood light on at the hay barn and corral at my house. I take off Scandal's saddle and bridle, and brush her to smooth the hair. <br /><br />In the winter she has a loooooonnnng shaggy coat, like a horse from the north pole. <br /><br />I feed her some treats, we talk or communicate in our own way, and I break open a bale of hay. <br /><br />She has a 3 sided shed but is free to roam outside. It's nice to see her have this freedom to roam instead of living in a stall.<br /><br />It's important to me for Scandal to be happy. If I were her, I'd want that freedom. <br /><br />I check the heating coil in the water trough to be sure it's working and she has water not ice. Janey, the retired racehorse our vet gave me, and her colt are there too. <br /><br />My feet feel a little numb from the cold, although I've got them wrapped in celaphane to keep dampness out, am wearing a pair of wool socks and a pair of knee socks, and a pair of rubber riding boots. <br /><br />Of course I have on long underwear tops and bottoms, wool riding britches, and a winter parka. It's a wonder a person can get a foot up in the stirrup to get on with all these clothes. <br /><br />My ears are covered with a knitted ear warmer that goes under the riding helmet. One's hands start to get numb in this cold too but this is all unimportant compared to the rewards of horses. <br /><br />Soon the horses are happily muching. There's a starry sky, a moon reflecting on the snow, and it's sooooo peaceful. I loiter but finally go back to the house. It's time to have supper, take the Irish Setters out for walks, and do homework.<br /><br />Can't wait for tomorrow afternoon, when Scandal and I share another adventure.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-2908843936916343812010-02-24T00:13:00.000-08:002010-02-24T02:01:57.146-08:00Banana Peel Stories - Times When Something Slipped or Went Wrong - But Everyone Landed on Their FeetThese stories are all from the times when we lived on Lake Geneva, Wisconsin and I was in junior high or high school. <br /><br /><strong>1 - First Banana Peel Story - When Something Went Wrong - "Sailing 101 and the Crash Landing"</strong><br /><br />My folks bought an older refurbished class X 16 ft. sailboat for my brother and I to use and signed us up for sailing lessons. I was in about the 7th grade and B.J. was 2 years younger. <br /><br />Right after we started lessons my Dad decided to have B.J. and I take the sailboat out while he drove next to us in the Boston Whaler. He thought we'd had enough lessons to know the gist of it, and we thought the same about him. We were all wrong.<br /><br />The wind came up, it got a little gusty and scarey, and Dad yelled for us to take the sailboat back. I was older and holding onto the tiller then. Holding onto it, not really being a skipper.<br /><br />As the sailboat headed toward the pier, with a rising wind, gathering speed, I waited for my father to yell over to us what to do since I didn't know how to land a sailboat. I could see the people on the pier looked worried as we got close. I didn't know yet about tacking into the wind and letting the sails luff.<br /><br />Dad was yelling but in the wind we didn't understand what he said. So we, I, kept going. We saw the sunbathers on the pier get up and run away. <br /><br />Crash! The bow hit the pier, the front plate and stay broke, the jib, mainsail and wooden mast fell over. <br /><br />B.J. and I, sensing we were supposed to have done this differently, jumped up and ran off the boat all the way up to the house. <br /><br />The next week our sailing class got to the part about landing the boat.<br /><br /><strong>2- Second Banana Peel Story - A Rogue Wave, A Runaway Speedboat, and 2 Lifeguards</strong><br /><br />Lake Geneva had tour boats that created gigantic waves when they went by. <br /><br />I was about 15 years old. One day I was going all out in the Boston Whaler, full throttle, when one of these waves hit just right at an angle. The boat jumped into the air, I lost my grip on the outboard motor handle, and I flew into the air, the water. <br /><br />From the water, in my clothes, I saw the outboard motor handle swing over to the other side so the boat began to circle back toward me, really flying. This could have been life threatening.<br /><br />I heard a voice yell - "Over here!" A Gordy's rental ski boat with 2 cute guys about my age roared in with their 80 horsepower mercs, one guy grabbed my arms and pulled me into the boat, and they roared out before the Boston Whaler could hit. <br /><br />The Boston Whaler went into a pattern of roaring around in figure 8's, with the outboard motor handle swinging back and forth. Each time the handle swung the whole boat jumped into the air and began a different circle. <br /><br />A crowd gathered on the shore. My rescuers and I joined them. Someone said "Guess we have to wait till it runs out of gas" but another said "let's foul the prop with a ski tow rope." And that's what they did. By then several water safety patrol boats were there too. <br /><br />They wanted to know who did this. I tried to blend into the crowd. My father showed up. Oh dear. <br /><br />I was grounded because it was thought I must have been really hot rodding to get thrown out of the boat. Finally my mom convinced my dad that it really was a freak accident. <br /><br />My mom was grateful to the 2 high school guys who rescued me. They turned out to be swim team competitors who were lifeguards from Michigan. They were done with their lifeguard jobs because it was almost the end of the summer.<br /><br />So, my mom invited the 2 lifeguards to stay with us for a week in my brother's room, and B.J. slept on the couch. We all became friends and got along quite well. <br /><br />My steady boyfriend from high school was over there every single minute possible keeping an eye on my lifeguard/rescuers, who were continuing to keep an eye on me. <br /><br />They may have thought I would have another boating accident at any moment. <br /><br />Perhaps they thought since they had saved me that it was their duty to continue to be protective.<br /><br />So when my boyfriend came over the lifeguard - rescue guys were always there too. I have to admit I enjoyed it. <br /><br /><strong>3 - Third Banana Peel Story - The Iceboat Without a Rudder</strong><br /><br />My dad was co-owner of a class A iceboat. His friend, the other owner, was on the board for the Stock Exchange in Chicago. I guess they both liked risk. <br /><br /> Lake Geneva was 12 miles long and up to 3 miles wide, so it could accommodate an 80 foot long iceboat that had a telephone pole as it's center. The crew rode in a basket made of super thick ropes at the back of the telephone pole. The tiller controlled the angle of the blades on the ice, which protruded out on the sides. The class A ice boat looked a little like a big cross.<br /><br />It looked like a quiet day, almost no wind, and my dad couldn't find anyone else to crew on the iceboat that day. The crew's job was to move across the rope basket and use their weight to keep the iceboat from tipping over, somersaulting really, on the ice. I only weighted about 110.<br /><br />The giant telephone pole had a huge mast and sail. We pushed the iceboat to get it going, then hopped in. Everything was ok until the tiller broke. <br /><br />The wind had come up. We were in a rope basket at the back of an 80 ft telephone pole with a sail full of wind on a lake with mostly a rocky shore. It only takes a little wind to go really fast. <br /><br />And..we were going really fast. "We'll have to use our weight to try to steer it into the wind' my dad shouted. He released the mainsail sheet to let the boom swing out and try to let air out of the sail, but we were still moving fast, the runners hissing. We leaned way out on one side but the boat seemed to be heading right for the rocks. The runners weren't responding to the weight change.<br /><br />We went to one side of the crew's basket and half jumped to the other side to throw some real weight into it. The rocks were getting closer and it would be like a car crash, only on ice. <br /><br />Slowly the runners responded and we began to circle away from the shore. The iceboat kept circling and ran into the wind and eventually it slowed and stopped. <br /><br />We looked over at the shore but no one was around. My dad said, "Don't ever tell your mother about this."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-56645786122072861212009-12-15T23:00:00.000-08:002009-12-15T23:21:58.716-08:00Storytelling - "My Father and the Spell of the Blue Light" by Kristi Marie GottMy father was able to invent a story at the drop of a hat. He told the stories to us in such a realistic way that as children we listened seriously, thinking he was telling us the truth. Then after the story was over we could tell by his facial expression that he had made it all up. <br /><br />Some of these stories were obviously not true, but we enjoyed them so much that we wished to suspend our belief systems for awhile. and enter into the stories fully.<br /><br />Once my parents brought home a beautiful antique light made of blue etched glass and hung it from the ceiling. It cast a blue glow over the antique pine dining table. <br /><br />When we all sat in the dark living room, viewing the blue light in the dining room with awe, I noticed my father's green eyes narrow. He raised his eyebrows at the same time, a sign that he was about to say something interesting. <br /><br />Thus began his story of "The Spell of the Blue Light." It was like sitting by the campfire listening to stories, except we were home. I was in the third grade or somewhere near that age. <br /><br />In the semi-dark living room, with the blue light washing over us, my father explained in a soft voice, "I didn't tell you right away, kids, but this blue light casts a spell. When you turn the light on the ghosts of the family who first owned the light, over 100 years ago, come back and sit under the light. If you look closely you can see something now. You can feel that someone is there."<br /><br />We really did look closely, just in case someone or something was there. It did seem that in the blue glow there might be something different in the air, like shadows, under the light around the dining table. We looked at my father, hypnotized.<br /><br />His quiet, sing song voice went on, describing the people and what they were doing. When he said, "and that's the story of the spell of the blue light" we were sorry the tale was already over. <br /><br />I never went through the dining room again without looking at the blue light and <br />seeing if I "felt" anyone was there. <br /><br />Having a father who was a storyteller made everything so much more fun. The real spell was the one cast by my father with his storytelling. It was like a magic spell that made ordinary things seem more interesting.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-1425700514619528862009-11-21T19:59:00.001-08:002009-11-22T21:51:01.699-08:00How to Tell Anecdotes, Ira Glass of "This American Life" Explains Storytelling, Anecdotes, and Building SuspenseTo see the whole Ira Glass series on storytelling just click to watch the episodes on youtube. Visit Ira Glass and his award winning show that's on Chicago Public Radio at <a href="http://thisamericanlife.org">http://ThisAmericanLife.org. Enjoy listening to a master storyteller online. <br /><br /><br /> </a><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/n7KQ4vkiNUk&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/n7KQ4vkiNUk&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-46799904615243098502009-11-19T14:32:00.000-08:002009-11-19T14:33:39.592-08:00Biography Example: Leonardi di Vinci Part 1 of 18<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IQ9ar3X_u1k&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IQ9ar3X_u1k&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-11276175652885983232009-11-10T11:30:00.000-08:002009-11-10T12:34:07.274-08:00Antiques Awaken Early Memories for Life StorytellingA visit to the local antigue mall awakened childhood memories of a house filled with antigues. At the mall I saw a Primitive Early American "dry sink." The sink was a metal pan sitting in a recessed area on the wood counter. The roughly made drawers wobbled when you used them and the cabinet doors fit with gaps. It took me back to the house in the country full of antiques where I grew up.<br /><br />Our antiques were mostly from colonial times, Early American, and were more primitive than the elegant antiques found in the later times. <br /><br />Over the pot scorched pine dining table hung an antique light fixture. Etched blue glass cast a light that was almost like a spell when it was turned on at night. Sitting at the table, next to the rough hewn pine sideboard it was easy to feel like a time traveler going back.<br /><br />We had a family legend that when the blue antique light was turned on time went back to colonial days, and an early American family appeared, sitting around the table in their colonial clothes. My father, a green-eyed Irishman, was a natural storyteller. He would spin yarn after yarn about the "spell of the blue light."<br /><br />To this day I prefer antiques for home furniture because they tell a story. All you need is your imagination. <br /><br />Today, my house has an antique spinning wheel, a pine table from the 1800's, and some early 1900's pressback chairs. Living surrounded by antiques and their stories is a way of life. History and nostalgia are always part of the surroundings.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-43248076359805071052009-11-09T00:39:00.000-08:002009-11-09T00:40:00.615-08:00Storytelling Native American Cherokee Style<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SlHtzU133NI&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SlHtzU133NI&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-27105280364281755782009-05-24T13:36:00.000-07:002009-05-24T14:15:10.747-07:0081 Year Old Has Over 5,000 5-Star Ratings, Over 360,000 Views on Youtube for this Life Story Telling VideoPeter Zimmer, an 81 year old widower from England, has done an incredible video on his life story. His youtube channel has had over 2 million views. You can also visit his youtube channel at:<br /><br /><a href="http://youtube.com/geriatric1927">Geriatric1927</a><br /><br />Or visit his website at:<br /><br /><a href="http://askgeriatric.com">AskGeriatric.com<br /><br /><br /><br /></a><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qJ6B2qOFp7Y&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qJ6B2qOFp7Y&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><a href="http://askgeriatric.com"></a><a href="http://www.askgeriatric.com"></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-53954417218384982552009-05-18T15:53:00.000-07:002009-05-18T15:59:28.609-07:00How to Narrate a Video in Windows Movie Maker to Tell Your Life Story - Video by Kristi Marie Gott<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZJQQHuGR6_I&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZJQQHuGR6_I&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />You may be using photos instead of videos when you tell your life story. As you can see in this Movie Maker video both camcorder video footage and photos can be used to make a video.<br /><br />For telling your life story with multimedia you can use photos and camcorder video of highlights, and record your own narrative to go with them. As you can see in the video above, it's not very difficult. <br /><br />It helps to view the silent video and then write either the whole narrative or a list of topics. When you are speaking and recording you won't have to pause to think of what to say next, and it helps eliminate the "ummm."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-87546609982138371562009-05-13T23:27:00.000-07:002009-05-13T23:28:34.704-07:00Video: Tools for Telling Your Life Story<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/btLhcTwVdDM&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/btLhcTwVdDM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-89806844121438275352009-05-13T23:23:00.000-07:002009-05-13T23:24:18.291-07:00Autobiography - How and Why to Write One - John Graden from eHow, International Speaker Gives Tips<object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TO-psqbyyho&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TO-psqbyyho&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-13032759284352023152009-03-19T20:23:00.000-07:002009-03-19T20:32:53.831-07:00Make a Timeline of Your Life EventsOne way to organize the life events before you start writing is to make a timeline.<br /><br />Divide the timeline into sections, perhaps every 5 or ten years. In each section list the events that stand out as highlights that changed your life.<br /><br />Later when you tell or write your life story you can launch into anecdotes about these events, the people involved, and the details of the circumstances. Remember, the historical data of each era adds background.<br /><br />A tale about Christmas during the early 1960's might involve receiving a hula hoop or a pogo stick as a child for a gift. In the 1970's maybe you gave someone a "liesure suit." Gifts in the late 1990's might include electronics and computers.<br /><br />As you tell your story you'll move through history. Everyone has a wealth of historical data in their memoirs. Your life story is especially important from this standpoint. It's a part of history!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-4206088418349688312009-03-13T13:29:00.000-07:002009-03-13T13:43:13.029-07:00Major Life Changing Events - An Important Part of Your Life StoryThe direction of your life is often changed dramatically by major events. <br /><br />A move to a new place and home, an award for an achievement, the death of a loved one, someone new coming into your life or any number of events can turn life upside down. When the pieces of life are broken up and rearranged it's like a new chapter, or even a new book about your life story. <br /><br />We can learn from these major life events. There are experiences of trial and error. Adaptations that we make to adjust to new lives are all part of the life story. Telling a life story can involve the following questions. <br /><br />1- Which events changed you the most? <br /><br />2- Did you learn something new?<br /><br />3- Is there some wisdom you would like to share in your life story that has made a difference?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-7563823271253350012008-12-04T19:18:00.000-08:002008-12-04T19:19:24.414-08:00Do It Yourself Publishing Software for a Book on Your Life Story<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cp9TFoiAVGo&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cp9TFoiAVGo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-10939727653636261082008-12-04T19:04:00.000-08:002008-12-04T19:06:40.767-08:00A True Life "Fawlty Towers" - Humorous Life Story About Running a Hotel - Author Says Guests Often Rate Hotels But He Rates the Guests<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OG2L5tHbQlk&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OG2L5tHbQlk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-53754220989484394412008-12-04T18:55:00.000-08:002008-12-04T18:58:33.186-08:00Using a Tape Recorder to Make Hurricane Katrina Memoirs - "Heart Like Water"<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e2hVLtZhByY&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e2hVLtZhByY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-38566433353803563332008-11-19T19:29:00.000-08:002008-11-19T19:32:11.450-08:00"Not Quite What I Was Planning, Six Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure," from Smith Magazine and Harper Perinneal<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mBnP0DoGjRI&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mBnP0DoGjRI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-51863007109529563072008-11-02T12:53:00.000-08:002008-11-03T00:48:20.814-08:00Video from CBS on Writing Your Life Story, Natalie Goldberg, "Old Friend from Far Away"<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e17SIiSRIwY&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e17SIiSRIwY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-416541341334522082008-10-23T15:45:00.000-07:002008-10-23T15:54:15.336-07:00Perspectives in Life Story TellingOut of that jumble of ideas that may come pouring out when you think of writing your life story there will be many perspectives. For example, you could tell your story from a spiritual perspective, a career perspective, or a family perspective. Values you hold to be very dear will be reflected in your story. Perhaps it will turn out to be a story of how you triumphed over a difficult start in life and went on to career success. Or, it may be a tale of overcoming a childhood with a disfunctional family and having a family life as an adult that you cherish.<br /><br />A perspective or angle of viewing your life will emerge as you tell it or write it, and it's a chance to learn more about yourself. In a way, a life story sometimes functions like a mirror, reflecting your life back to you in a way that is not easy to see without telling your life story.<br /><br />A theme often emerges, a calling in life, or a lifelong passion. Events unfold, but underlying those events there can be a steady stream of choices that reflect some consistent perspectives.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7725606932446053397.post-760465808783802532008-10-08T10:36:00.000-07:002008-10-08T10:37:35.719-07:00How to Use Google's Genealogy Toolbar<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9qefdagiK38&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9qefdagiK38&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0