Story Week Day 5: Story Behind the Song

I love songs. They are stories in themselves a lot of the time, but a lot of times they also have a history behind them. Today I'm going to share with you the history behind two very different songs: It Is Well with My Soul by Hoartio G. Spafford, which is a hymn written in 1873, and Fire and Rain by James Taylor.

Fire and Rain
James Taylor
(source)

Apparently, at first there was a lot of debate about what exactly Taylor had written this song about, but eventually he narrowed it down to what each of the three different parts was about.


Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone. Suzanne the plans they made put an end to you

This part of the song was speculated to be about Taylor's good childhood friend, Suzanne Schnerr, committing suicide, and this was what this part of the song ended up being about. Suzanne died while Taylor was away recording his first album, and he didn't even know about it until six months later because his friends and family at home were afraid it would distract him from his "big break".

Won't you look down upon me Jesus, you've got to help me take a stand, you've just got to see me through another day

This second verse refers to Taylor's struggles with drug addiction and depression.

Well there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

This third verse doesn't refer to a plane crash, but a band Taylor worked with briefly. It also dealt "with coming to grips with fame and fortune, looking back at the road that got him there."

It Is Well with My Soul
Horatio G. Spafford

It is Well with My Soul is probably on the other end of the spectrum from Fire and Rain, but has just as interesting a story behind it, if not more interesting.

Horatio dealt with a lot of grief and pain in his lifetime. First of all, he lost a fortune when the great Chicago fire consumed the city in 1871. Soon after, his only son who was only four, died from scarlet fever. He tried to forget about his grief by working to rebuild the city and help the newly homeless.

Then, only two years later in 1873 Horatio decided to take his wife and daughters to Europe, although there was complications with his job and he ended up sending them on the boat to Europe ahead of him. His wife, Anna, and their four daughters Maggie, Tanetta, Annie and Bessie all boarded the ship Ville du Havre that November with Horatio promising to join them soon.

At sea, the ship collided with an iron sailing vessel. Within hours, the mighty ship had sunk. All four of Horatio's daughters died, and Mrs. Spafford was found nearly unconscious clinging to a piece of wreckage.

Horatio hurriedly boarded a ship to go and join his wife. On the way there, the captain mentioned when they passed over the spot the Ville du Havre had sunk. Horatio went down to his cabin and said, of all things, "It is well; the will of God be done."

And thus the hymn "It is Well with My Soul" was written:

When peace like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
"It is well, It is well, with my soul."

It is well (It is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul!

My sin, O the bliss of this glorious tho't
My sin not in part but the whole
Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more
Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, O my soul!

(Chorus)

O Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll
The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend
Even so it is well with my soul.

Here's a modernized version of the hymn if you want to hear what it sounds like: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0BmO6OpVS0&feature=fvwrel

Story Week Day 4: Epic Love Story

(Ha! It's still Thursday... barely, but still!)

So, my Grandma and Grandpa (my dad's parents) are very interesting people. My Grandma is social and speaks softly but chatters often and likes parties. My Grandpa has bad hearing, and doesn't talk all that much but sits in his chair during family gatherings and reads his Nora Roberts books.

I have heard their love story so many times, but it's awesome -epic, if you will- every time.

Before I get into that, though... tonight I was watching a video that my dad taped around six years ago of my Grandma telling stories about her childhood. At the end there was a funny conversation with my Grandma and Grandpa which sums up some of their very amusing personality:

Grandma: You know, Grandpa doesn't talk a lot at times and I-

Grandpa (in the background, interuppting): What do you mean, "at times"?

Grandma: And I, when Grandpa and I first met I think I did most of the talking and didn't catch on that he wasn't really starting many conversations.

Grandpa: Still the same, I can't get a word in edgewise!

:) Gotta love 'em.

Now... forward with today's story:

Gracie's Grandparents Epic Love Story

Just because he's interesting, I'll start with my Grandma's dad, whose name was Glen Patterson although everyone called him "Pat" (so when my Grandma was younger she thought his full name was Patrick). Anyway, he ran away to Canada from the U.S. when he was fourteen (I think because his father was abusive). Apparently he liked to make up stories and he would tell people he was born in Hull, Ontario even though he was from the states.

Well, my Grandma's dad was a chef with the military in Canada. My Grandpa came all the way from Australia to train in Canada for the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan. Well, Grandma's dad and Grandpa must have worked together, and Pat invited Grandpa to his house. Which, incidentally, is where he met Grandma. Grandpa might've stayed there for dinners and weekends, I'm not sure exactly. But Grandpa wasn't in Canada very long before he went back to Australia.

Note: not one of their letters. Just an internet pic.

Then, they wrote letters. One of my Grandma's comments from the video is "he was very good at writing letters, he would write pages and pages". I think it is extremely sweet to imagine my Grandpa, who doesn't talk all that much, writing pages and pages of romantic letters to his sweetheart across the ocean...

Well, apparently as they were writing letters they planned to get engaged and married, and Grandma made plans to go to Australia. She took the entire three week boat trip there (the anticipation would be dreadful, I'm sure!) and arrived at the dock in Australia. Only once she got there, she panicked and realized she couldn't remember what Grandpa looked like! She started to worry that she wouldn't recognize him, and here she was, standing on the dock in Australia, miles away from home... but, alas, she did recognize him.

Grandma and Grandpa did get married and they stayed in Australia for five years, having one child (my uncle) in that time. But Grandma was really homesick for Canada, so they moved back to Canada and didn't go back to Australia for quite a long time.

My Grandpa still has his Australian accent, and my grandparents have now been married for over sixty years.

What did I tell you? Epic.

Story Week Day 3: From Stories To Books (and RTW!)

Today's YA Highway Road Trip Wednesday prompt is...

Who have you written into a book? Be honest.

First of all I have to say a few things: Story Week is the week (this week) that I've taken to tell some stories, to share some stories, and to just overall celebrate the power of the story. Check out my other two posts from this week here and here.

I love RTW, so all this week I've been hoping I could tie the Wednesday prompt into my Story Week... and, well, I can!

See, all these stories we encounter in life: our brother's best friend's dad dying, our best friend going through her parents divorce, our dad's stories of growing up in the 60s and 70s... all these stories end up in our writing. We take little bits and pieces of each one, put them together, add some imagination and make something new and fun. Our writing is influenced a lot by our lives and our stories and other's stories, it would be hard not to write someone into a book!

So, back to the question... I think I've probably written bits and pieces of everyone I know into my writing. A character I named Maggie was based off of my best friend. The better question for me would be who I have written into a book most.

And that person would be...

Me. I'm sure I've put myself more than anyone else into my characters. :)

What stories/people have you slipped into your writing?



Me about four years ago, reading (what else?)



Story Week Day 2: Childhood Story

I know, I know! I forgot to post Day 2 of Story Week yesterday, when I said I would post each day. Bad blogger, Gracie, bad blogger. >:( Okay.

But I hope you'll forgive me anyway and still enjoy this blog post...



Please???

So I've decided since I've announced my own Story Week, that today I am going to share with you some stories that I wrote when I was, um, younger. A lot younger. Like, six. Maybe seven. Just to let you know.

And now...

Linda and the Dragon

LINDA and THE DRAGON
by Gracie The Six Year Old


Linda was in the meadow she heard something behind her. in front of her she saw a small stick that was burnt. she assumed there was nothing behind her. but when she saw what was behind her she screamed aaaahhhhhhhhhhh Linda screamed, it it it it’s a dragon! Who are you? Asked Linda, I’m a not very friendly dragon said the dragon sadly well, Ill be your friend said Linda in a nice voice OK said the dragon then what do you want to do suddenly Linda’s mother came to see what Linda was doing Linda didn’t know what to do about the dragon then she had an idea she found the dragons cave but the problem was that there was no were to get in and out of the cave. so nothing would work they tried everything there was a lock but no key there’s a secret for dragon’s whispered the dragon what secret? questioned Linda oh its th- STOP! yelled Linda why? I think I know a way in. What asked the dragon your t-that’s it its my TAIL interrupted the dragon in a loud voice my mother heard you as she screamed at the dragon.

Yes. I was that awesome. Haha. I'm sorry you had to read all that -no paragraphs, indents, quotations, periods, capital letters and all. But you've got to love Linda and her Dragon, right? Right?
 
What are some of the stories of your childhood?

Stories: Today, Silly Story Day

Last Thursday I closed the cover on the beautiful words of Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta and was immediately re-blown away (the initial blow-away occuring while I was reading). I think the most amazing thing about my new favourite book is the beautiful stories that each and every character has behind them. In a lot of books I've read the minor characters have names, and stereotypes through the protagnists eyes, and that's it. But the stories of all of these characters in Jellicoe Road.... well, blew me away.

And then that made me think of when I was sitting in church the Sunday before and thinking about how books don't just have stories, people do. Each and every person has stories, a bunch of them, inside them that makes them who they are. I went through a list in my head, thinking of every person I knew and their story and how, I don't know, cool it is that everyone has a story.

So, I've decided to make this Story Week! here on my blog. Each day I am going to share a story, whether it be one of my own or my grandparent's amazing love story that stretches between two continents. If you want, you can share some stories of your own on your blog and just let me know here and I'll go check them out, or just leave a story in the comments and I'll be sure to read it! :)

Anyway... today's story, I've decided is just going to be something silly (we need silliness on these dreary Mondays) that happened to me last year on a choir trip.

The Day the Turtle Emerged From Its Shell
by Gracie

There are two things you should know before I start this story. One, I am not really an outgoing person. (Although I am quite talkative when I want to be). Two, the choir director that I have had for the past three years is, um, kind of crazy (which, if you've ever known any music teacher, is kind of predictable).

Anyway... last year was my first time on a choir tour with this choir director's choir. They have a bunch of weird traditions -like saying "Opa" (I'm still not sure exactly when you're supposed to say this) and singing at every single street corner, restaurant and hotel we stop at/eat at/stay at. (Actually, "drive-by singing" is really fun).

Most of the time we get around by bus, and since we have to make sure we don't leave anyone behind, we have to do attendance each time. Awhile ago the chaperones found an efficient way of doing this - assign everyone a number and everyone just shouts out their number when it's their turn.

Well, guess what? My crazy choir director had made up a way to get all the students to pay attention during attendance -you have to do something embarassing if you don't say your number. And you have to do it whatever number of times your number is. One guy had to take his shirt off his shirt 3 times (his last name only started with C).

So. My last name starts with S. I was number 23. And... yeah, I missed my number. It was pretty terrible, I had completely forgotten it was mine and the chaperones were looking around going "23? Who's 23?" and all of a sudden my eyes widen and I realize... I'm 23. I did not like the mischevious looks my choir director was giving me as they tried to cook up a punishment!

After a few minutes of discussion, they came up with a plan: I had to count 23 of my curls. (If you've looked at the "The Blogger" page, you'll know I have a live creature that lives on my head -I mean, *ahem*, curly hair). Name each one. And give each one a characteristic. This might not have been so bad if it was someone who was outgoing and could easily stand up in front of a busload of teenagers and subsequently name and personalityize 23 locks of their hair.

But I did it, and I actually started naming them after people on the bus and saying one of their characteristics, and so it actually turned out to be kind of fun. I probably embarassed myself with some of the things I said, but I got a little turtle as an award on our unofficial end-of-trip awards ceremony (another choir tour tradition) for "coming out of my shell".

Yup. :) Hope you enjoyed that!

I will only come out of my shell for food. Only food!!







 Share your silly stories!