Reality TV at the Santa Barbara Writers' Conference 2008, From a 2 Hour Special That Aired on TV

Flashback 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.

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.

Lions looked out at us from cages, elephants were led by, people were milling around.

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.

I hadn't seen him for a year, having been away at college. Commodore had been turned out in a giant pasture in Wisconsin.

The Cow Palace sign announced "PT Barnum and Bailey Circus."

We located the truck driver and Commodore.

I knew right away Commodore hadn't forgotten me.

I slipped the new red halter on him with the leadrope. "Would you give me a leg up please?" I asked the truck driver.

In my mind I said to Commodore, "Comma, I have missed you so much."

The past year melted away.

Commodore was a tall jumping horse, spirited, and I had never ridden him bareback with only a halter and a leadrope on one side.

We instantly connected, tuned in to each other. We took off riding around the circus.

We stopped at the lion cage. All kinds of circus animals were in cages nearby or being led around.

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.

The bystanders probably thought I was a circus girl, one of the bareback riders with her trusty trick horse.

In my mind I said to him, "Oh Comma thank you! You're so good."

Commodore in his red halter, me riding bareback, we watched the PT Barnum and Bailey circus at the Cow Palace.

It was not your everyday experience, but Commodore was not your everyday horse.

Native American Storyteller Little Hawk Shares Wisdom

The heartfelt genuine quality of this storytelling by Little Hawk makes it so real, so wonderful. Enjoy.

1965 - Slice of Life - Scandal and Me

Open the mind's closet for 1965.

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.

It's 1965, and I'm in the 8th grade.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

If it's raining or snowy the lessons are held in the indoors riding ring, well lit.

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.

The stable owner has a large family and by working there I am part of the extended family.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

In the winter she has a loooooonnnng shaggy coat, like a horse from the north pole.

I feed her some treats, we talk or communicate in our own way, and I break open a bale of hay.

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.

It's important to me for Scandal to be happy. If I were her, I'd want that freedom.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Can't wait for tomorrow afternoon, when Scandal and I share another adventure.

Banana Peel Stories - Times When Something Slipped or Went Wrong - But Everyone Landed on Their Feet

These stories are all from the times when we lived on Lake Geneva, Wisconsin and I was in junior high or high school.

1 - First Banana Peel Story - When Something Went Wrong - "Sailing 101 and the Crash Landing"

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Crash! The bow hit the pier, the front plate and stay broke, the jib, mainsail and wooden mast fell over.

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.

The next week our sailing class got to the part about landing the boat.

2- Second Banana Peel Story - A Rogue Wave, A Runaway Speedboat, and 2 Lifeguards

Lake Geneva had tour boats that created gigantic waves when they went by.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

They wanted to know who did this. I tried to blend into the crowd. My father showed up. Oh dear.

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.

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.

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.

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.

They may have thought I would have another boating accident at any moment.

Perhaps they thought since they had saved me that it was their duty to continue to be protective.

So when my boyfriend came over the lifeguard - rescue guys were always there too. I have to admit I enjoyed it.

3 - Third Banana Peel Story - The Iceboat Without a Rudder

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

We looked over at the shore but no one was around. My dad said, "Don't ever tell your mother about this."

Storytelling - "My Father and the Spell of the Blue Light" by Kristi Marie Gott

My 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

I never went through the dining room again without looking at the blue light and
seeing if I "felt" anyone was there.

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.

Antiques Awaken Early Memories for Life Storytelling

A 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.

Our antiques were mostly from colonial times, Early American, and were more primitive than the elegant antiques found in the later times.

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.

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."

To this day I prefer antiques for home furniture because they tell a story. All you need is your imagination.

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.

Video: Tools for Telling Your Life Story

Autobiography - How and Why to Write One - John Graden from eHow, International Speaker Gives Tips

A True Life "Fawlty Towers" - Humorous Life Story About Running a Hotel - Author Says Guests Often Rate Hotels But He Rates the Guests

Using a Tape Recorder to Make Hurricane Katrina Memoirs - "Heart Like Water"

Video from CBS on Writing Your Life Story, Natalie Goldberg, "Old Friend from Far Away"

Perspectives in Life Story Telling

Out 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.

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.

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.

Five Steps to Set Up a Life Story Video Interview

If a full-length book of memoirs is not practical, a life story interview can be made on video. Here are the steps.

1. ORGANIZE. Gather photos, memorabilia, timelines, and family members.

2. OUTLINE.. Write an outline of topics and questions.

3. VIDEO CLIPS. Make a series of brief video clips, from a minute or so long to 10 minutes long. Shorter clips are easier to upload on the computer or send to family and friends.

4. TOPICS. Each video clip can focus on a special topic, such as "Pictures of My Childhood Home" or "The Story of Christmas Holidays in 1950."

5. MAKE CD'S. Copy the video clips onto CD's and share them with family members.

Video: Reasons Why People Enjoy Genealogy and Family History

My Life Story - I'll Never Forget the Day....

It was like a scene straight out of Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegon.

"Harvard Milk Day" in Harvard, Illinois, had arrived, with it's parade and festivities to promote dairy products. The year was 1970 and it was a hot June day. I was one of the contestants in the "Milk Day Queen" contest. We had all been photographed by the local papers many times while drinking glasses of milk.

I sat on the back of a red mustang convertible in last Spring's prom dress and rode in the parade as our high school's representative.

I graduated from "Big Foot High School," of Walworth, Wisconsin. It was named after a native American chief who had lived near Geneva Lake, Wisconsin. I was our school's representative.

The Harvard Milk Day parade went down the main street of town and various festive floats made a long line. We milkmaids sat on the backs of the convertibles and waived at the spectators.

There were also floats pulled by tractors, hay wagons with local kids, and local school bands marching.

As the representative from the above named school my car's banner read "Miss Big Foot." The other milkmaids had names like "Miss Lake Geneva" or "Miss Williams Bay." Of course the banner on my car drew some attention.

I've always enjoyed humour so I just rolled with it, smiling and waiving. Occasionally some kids would yell something like, "Hey Miss Big Foot, what size shoe do you wear?" We all shared some good laughter and it was a day I'll never forget.

Triggering Memories for Life Story Writing

Getting started with writing when faced with a blank computer screen or piece of paper can sometimes be a challenge. Below are some ideas to trigger memories that can be part of a life story.

1. If you had to divide your life into "chapters" what would they be?

2. What have been your favorite interests or hobbies throughout your life, and when did they start?

3. How did you happen to choose your career path?

4. What were the ups and downs you felt during the teen years?

5. What major historical events have taken place in the world during your life and how did these events effect you?

6. What was your elementary school experience like?

7. Are there some causes that you have passionate feelings about and how did you first become interested in them?

8. If you wrote a brief timeline or outline of your life, what would be ten major highlights?

9. What were your favorite places to live and why?

10. Which people influenced you the most in your life?

Ten Ways to Use Multimedia To Tell Your Life Story and Family History

There are a variety of ways you can use multimedia to tell your life story. These days you can be very creative with multimedia and choices include some of the following.

1. CAMCORDER. Use a camcorder to record a video of some aspects of your life story, or all of it. If you are new to using video software try an easier program such as windows movie maker, since it comes with your computer.

2. SCAN PHOTOS. Scan childhood and family photos into the computer and add them to the storyboard in the video software.

3. SUBTITLES. Add subtitles to the photos and video clips. If you are new to making videos this might sound complicated but it's just more click and choose types of steps.

4. RECORD. Make a vocal recording of a reading of parts of your life story, that plays while showing photos or video clips.

5. VIDEO CLIPS. Visit your childhood home or other important places from your life and make video clips showing them today. Research on the internet to find vintage photos of places or things from different historical eras in your life. For instance, if you grew up in the 1940's you might want to have photos of automobiles from that time.

6. INTERVIEWS. Make lists of questions and interview your family members about shared memories, perhaps of holiday times or other events.

7. HISTORY. Add historical material to give additional interest and perspective to your life story. For instance, if you were a teen-ager during the 1960's describe the national or world events that were taking place. What were you doing on the night the astronauts landed on the moon?

8. TAPE RECORD. Tape or use a digital recorder to record your memories when something triggers them. Try telling your story to a recorder and then transcribe it for a more spontaneous flow.

9. COMBINE. Combine video, music from eras of your life, photos scanned into the computer, subtitles, and more in a series of life stories from different parts of your life.

10. GRAPHICS. Add a graphic of your family tree to the video, and/or photos and videos of the family members.

Olive O'Riley, 108 Years Old, Visits Her Childhood Home in Broken Hill, Australia, and Tells Her Life Story and Family History on Video

How To Make a Life Story Video - Making a Film of Your Memoirs and Family History