Family Stories Can Be Published

 

Many family stories are also appropriate to submit to Chicken Soup for the Soul. Several stories of mine in Chicken Soup books are family stories. There's one about my mother's fudge making abilities, another about a very special afternoon tea I had with my grandmother, one that tells of my visit as a nine-year-old to my dying grandfather and many others. 

Those stories you hear from other family members are often ones that can be published, but that can only happen if you write them and submit to a publication. There are all kinds of anthologies where a family story might fit. One on holidays took my story about the year of the turkey disaster. Another published my personal essay about how I came to love books--also a family story. 

Magazines like Reminisce and Good Old Days seek stories that fit the family story category. They don't take everything sent to them, so study their guidelines and adapt your story to fit. It will have a better chance. 

Some family stories will fit in the personal essay category, but remember that this type of essay must show a universal truth or something you learned from the experience. 

Look through your family stories to see if you have one that might be submitted somewhere. Check the Chicken Soup list of possible book topics at www.chickensoup.com  Go to the bottom and click on Submit your story to find that page. Check other market lists and always read the guidelines to see if you have a fit. 

The family stories you write will be more detailed than the ones you tell around the dining room table. If you are planning to submit one of them, it will probably need some revision and editing to create a story that is worthy of publication.

One of my family stories that was published in a medical employee journal and in a Parish Nurses publication is below. The story is one I've related to my husband and children, then wrote. 

Add A Dose Of Love 

 In 1943, when I was only four, a nurse made a deep impression on me during a three day hospitalization for a tonsillectomy. 

I can see her clearly, even these multiple decades later. Her youth, the cloud of blonde hair, lively blue eyes and broad smile made her look like an angel in her crisp white uniform and jaunty nurse’s cap. She soothed me when I didn’t want my daddy to go home the night before my surgery. Hospital rules were more stringent in those days. 

 I cried until she said, “I’ll take you to see the babies in the nursery.”  Her voice was soft and melodic. I went willingly into her outstretched arms and waved good-bye to my father as I snuggled close to her.  She carried me to the nursery and we visited each newborn infant.

My tonsils were removed the next day and that evening I hemorrhaged.  For a four-year-old, it was frightening.  When the bleeding had been stopped, my blonde, blue-eyed nurse sat by the bed, slipped her hand in mine and talked softly to me until I fell asleep.  That young woman gave me needed care, which was her job, but she added a dose of love that settled over me like a soft comforter which warms me to this day.

She chose a profession where service to others topped the list of her duties, but she did it with such devotion that she has become a forever memory for me.  I can thank her, too, for setting me on a path of service to others which has continued throughout my life. 

First, I wanted to be a nurse just like her. That desire lasted until I learned that chemistry was part of the training. Since science was the one school subject that gave me trouble, my dream went up in smoke. 

In time, I came to the realization that I could still follow a path of service to others by becoming a teacher, which is exactly what I did. I kept that kind, loving nurse, whose name I never knew, in my memory bank. I sometimes thought of her as I taught and loved a class filled with emotionally disturbed children. No lecture needed; her actions had come through even to me, a small child, and remained into my working years. When my teaching career ended, I moved into hospital volunteer work, which still allowed me to serve others. I always tried to add a dose of love as I moved from one patient to another or waited on customers in the hospital gift shop. 

That nurse taught me if you intertwine service and love, you’ve got a winning combination as well as a surefire way to witness your faith in Him who bade us to do so.

(C)