The No-Name Sisters--A Family Story

I've posted a great deal about writing your family stories over the years. It's a favorite topic of mine for two reasons. First, I feel family is of great importance. Second, people need to write family stories so they won't get lost over time. Telling them is great. Writing them is essential. 

Today, I'd like to give you an example of how you can write a fictionalized version of a true family story. The list below will help you with things to keep in mind. I would not suggest writing all your family stories this way, but try a few and see how you like writing it and how others like reading it.

• Stay with the facts
• Decide if you want to change the names or keep the real ones. There could be good reasons for either way. (I kept the real names)
• Use the same fiction techniques you would employ in a purely fictional story. Things like: setting the scene for a sense of place, using active verbs, dialogue, start with a hook, keep the reader interested with action, not just telling, end with a twist or surprise or something satisfying, weave in description
• If you know some of the habits or personality traits of any of the people, include them.
• If you submit the story for publication, tell the editor it is based on an actual happening.

As an example, I'm going to post a true story from my husband's side of the family which I wrote as I think it may have happened. The facts are all there; the exact way it occurred are my own thoughts. My husband's aunt told me this story one day, and it just amazed me. Later, after I told my husband what she'd related, he said he had never heard it before. His mother was the daughter of German immigrants who farmed in central Illinois in the late 1800s and 1900s up about WWII. They had 9 children. The last two were my husband's mother and his aunt. They had no names until they went to school. The family and all the neighbors called them Big Baby and Little Baby. Here is the story the way I think it happened.

The No-Name Sisters

By Nancy Julien Kopp

(Note:  This is a fictionalized version of a true story about my husband’s mother and her younger sister.)

Papa leaned forward and in his German-accented English said, “So Katie, have you found out about this word ‘perseverance?’ Can you tell us what it means?” Mama and the other children leaned forward in their chairs, the same way Papa had. All eyes turned to Katie, the oldest daughter, as they waited for her to enlighten them. “It means never giving up what you have set out to do.” Papa laughed heartily. “Then I think it is good for us all to have a little of this perseverance. Ja?” Every head nodded in agreement with Papa. None of them ever disagreed with him, not her five older brothers, not her mama, not even Big Baby or Little Baby, her no-name sisters. Katie wanted her sisters to have real names. Big Baby was six and Little Baby five, so they’d been without names for a long time. Once, Katie said to Papa, “In 1912 in America everyone has a name,” but he’d ignored her. Katie loved her handsome papa. In the parlor, there was a photograph taken when he lived in Germany. He wore his Prussian army uniform and sat straight and tall on a big white horse, looking like a prince.  During dessert, Katie asked a familiar question, “Papa, when are you going to name Big Baby and Little Baby?” He gave the same answer as always. “Sometime soon I will do that. There is no hurry, Katie.” He cut another bite of the fresh gooseberry pie Mama had made and popped the forkful into his mouth. “Good pie, Mama, good pie.” Katie took a deep breath and responded softly. “Oh yes there is, Papa. School will start soon, and they must have a real name to go there. Miss Taylor won’t let them stay without a name.” Tears were forming in her eyes, so she blinked hard to keep them from slipping down her cheeks. Why wouldn’t Papa name her sisters? Her brothers all laughed until Papa silenced them with a stern look. All five boys ducked their heads and continued eating to smother their laughter. Even though they remained quiet, their eyes twinkled. Hans leaned over and poked his finger in Big Baby’s cheek. “Sometime soon,” Papa said while he patted Katie’s arm. He pushed back his chair and placed his hands on the table. “Koert, finish your pie and go hitch Jennie and Fannie to the wagon. Mama and I are going for a little ride tonight. Jennie and Fannie whispered in my ear that they like to take long walks on a fine summer night like this.” His deep laughter rang across the kitchen. Little Baby laughed, too. “Horses can’t talk, Papa,” she said, clapping one jam-covered hand over her mouth. “Maybe they can, and maybe they can’t. But my horses are special treasures.” Papa twirled the ends of his mustache and winked at Mama.  That night Katie tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. Why was she the only one in her family bothered by her sisters’ nameless state? Mama didn’t seem to mind, and her brothers were perfectly happy calling them Big Baby and Little Baby. Even the nameless girls never complained. Only Katie fretted. Katie turned over and fluffed her pillow. She glimpsed the silver moon out of her tiny window and pictured herself on the first day of school. In her mind, she saw herself so clearly. She held her sisters’ hands, one on each side of her, all of them with neatly braided hair. They wore clean pinafores over calico dresses, their high button shoes were polished, and their faces glowed from the morning scrubbing. She proudly presented her sisters to Miss Taylor. The pretty picture changed when she thought about Miss Taylor asking the girls’ names. Katie punched her pillow hard as she imagined the laughter from the other pupils. She pulled the light quilt over her shoulder and then her head. She would keep on asking Papa to give the girls names, even if he became angry with her. She’d use some of that perseverance with Papa. The next morning a tired Katie approached her father again while Mama set out brown sugar and jugs of cream for the oatmeal. “Please Papa,” Katie asked, “when are you going to give Big Baby and Little Baby a name?” She trembled inside but stood straight and tall as she waited for his answer. His fierce look kept Katie from repeating the question that day or the next, but inside she was still anxious. Life on the farm went on as always. The boys helped Papa outside, and the girls worked with Mama in the house. Only once did Mama mention the subject of names to Katie when they were alone. “Katie,” she said firmly, “you must not ask Papa about the names again. When he is ready, he will tell us. You must be a little bit patient and a lot quiet.” Katie smiled at Mama and nodded, but she knew she must never give up. She’d remind Papa whenever an opportunity presented itself. The morning before school was to begin, Papa harnessed Jennie and Fannie to the wagon so he could go to town. Mama and the girls stood on the porch waiting to wave good-bye. Papa was halfway into the wagon when he stopped, one foot in mid-air. He jumped down and headed to the porch looking serious. “Mama, I have decided on some names for these new schoolgirls,” he said, looking only at her. “Big Baby will be called Jennie, and Little Baby will be Fannie.” The two little girls giggled and jumped from one foot to the other. Mama folded her hands like she did in church and smiled at Papa. Papa folded his arms one over the other and smiled back at Mama. Katie blurted out, “But Papa, those are the horses’ names!” “Ja! They are good names,” Papa said. “Look at those two beautiful animals. See how proud and tall they stand, with heads held high. My girls will be like them and be fine people one day. Ja! They are good names, and tomorrow the girls will take their new names and go to school.” Mama patted Katie’s shoulder softly, and she leaned close and whispered, “You see, Katie, it all happens if you are a little bit patient and a lot quiet.” “And if you have perseverance, Mama,” Katie whispered back.  (C) 2012  (Published in Knowonder! magazine)