Everyone loves a good story, and all families have them… How to write your own family's stories.

Here in Cape Breton, we like our stories. I was brought up hearing tales of forerunners and courting, hard work and moonshine, country life and adventures in the wider world. I assumed it was a Scottish thing. But when I married Tony (Antonio), who grew up in a French family of 17 in New Brunswick, I learned his family also cherished their stories-not least of which because they had a ready-made audience.

Tony's family took it one step further. His brothers Romeo and Ludger wrote stories down. Tony followed their lead-he also wrote stories he had heard, fleshing out the details and narrative. He then gathered his and his brothers' stories into a book called The Runaway and Other Stories, which was published last fall.

Family members from right across Canada have told us how much this written legacy means to them; how it introduces them to family members they had never known, enhancing their sense of who their people were and, indeed, who they are themselves. Sharing stories rekindles family bonds, linking one generation to another; it's a reunion of memories.

Every family has its storytellers. They can be old or young, world-travelled or homebodies. And every family has its tales, handed down for generations, and increasing daily. These are often oral stories told around the kitchen table, beside the fireplace or in the car on the way to Grandma's. They tell who came from where and why, the humour and the hardships, the personalities, pastimes and passions, the homesteads built, school days and romance, the talents and skills, kindnesses and daring. The tales often include people (friends and neighbours as well as family), animals who served the family and sometimes caused it grief, celebrations of life and survival of natural perils. There is no greater drama than real life.

Often in oral telling and retelling, bits and pieces are left out, and names or dates get confused. I believe stories should be preserved, shared and treasured, not only as family history but as an important part of our cultural history.

The holidays are a good time to begin collecting your stories, when generations come together in the spirit of sharing-and nostalgia runs high.

Gather the raw material

Write out stories you remember yourself, and talk to family members. Everyone has at least one story. People who are not gifted at oral storytelling may have anecdotes that can be developed.

To begin, ask questions to jog a person's memory, and get the story going. For example: "What is your earliest memory? Your memory of your father or mother? Happiest memory? Smells, sights or sounds of home? First job? Day you were most proud of yourself?" Also ask if there are photos and letters of the people involved in the story that would help in the telling.

Listen as your Aunt Minnie tells the story. Don't interrupt. If you're missing an element (think in terms of the Five Ws-Who, What, When, Where and Why) or a detail (what was the dog's name?), make a note to ask later. Respect the person's time. A half-hour to an hour is plenty of time to get a couple of stories.

If possible, record the stories. This can be done in person or by phone. Electronics stores carry a small device for recording directly from your telephone; a jack that plugs into your telephone receiver and your tape recorder. I prefer a tape recorder to note-taking because I get the story exactly as it is told, in the teller's voice.

Choose a filing system

While you're still collecting or researching the raw material for stories, begin to write out what you have. Decipher your notes or transcribe stories from tape. If there are gaps, your research begins. You have the basis for a story.

On each story note the name of the teller, phone number or e-mail address, date told and to whom. This can help if you have a question later and will also be part of the family record.

To keep things organized, I use a three-ring binder with plastic sheet protectors for old letters and photos, and the stories as I write them. You could also use a file folder or an accordion file.

Research and plan

Creative non-fiction is the ideal fit for family stories. While fiction is written from the imagination and non-fiction is written from facts, creative non-fiction is based on the facts-or the story as you've heard it-and crafted together using fiction techniques, such as the development of setting, plot and character, providing a good read.

Try reducing your story to one sentence. This is your plot, the main action of the story. While writing the title story in The Runaway and Other Stories, Tony had the oral story of his grandfather Louis who ran away from France as a young boy and settled in the Magdalen Islands. He talked to his older brother Ludger who had been to France, traced the genealogy, and knew a lot about the story and location. He had letters from another brother, Cyril, who also visited France. He consulted books, archives, websites and maps to learn the geography.

He reduced the plot to this: "A young farm boy pursues his dream of finding adventure on the high seas but discovers life on board is not all that he expected." Within this framework he fleshed out the dialogue and details of the setting, for example, in order to let the reader get to know Louis; his home, lifestyle, dreams, conflicts and actions. Overall, the stories are about 90 per cent true, says Ludger.

Write a first draft

A story has three parts: a beginning, a middle and an end, and not necessarily in that order. The beginning should grab the reader's attention. The writer may take the reader gently by the hand and guide him to a new land: "My small island home of Noirmoutier, off the coast of Brittany, is the perfect place to dream of tall ships and adventures on the high seas. But my father had chosen farming; or, maybe farming had chosen him…"

The beginning can warn of impending danger, and actually be the middle of the action. Or it can introduce a point of view. Besides setting up a place, a situation or a character, the beginning can also introduce tension or conflict. Although conflict is something you avoid in real life, it's something you strive for in storytelling: it stirs our emotions and keeps us enthralled, wondering what the outcome will be. It may entail a struggle between where we are and where we want to be (the boy on the farm who longs to sail the sea); between man and nature (while at sea, for example); between what we suspect and what we know. It can also be humorous, as with the story of a young boy and the ram who lies in wait each time he goes outside. From Romeo D'Amour's story "Guardian Angels on Call": "I wasn't halfway to my aunt's place when I froze in my tracks. The ram was heading for the road at breakneck speed, a long rope trailing. He barreled through the wire fence, hopped over the ditch, bounced on the road and came to a standstill 15 feet from me…"

As you write, Uncle Harry becomes more than a name. He becomes a character with an identity: we know what he looks like, what he loves and hates, where he's been and what he's done. Try to include names of people, places, businesses; include dates and relative detail wherever possible. If Uncle Harry is earning $5 a day, what could that amount buy? Check with older family members and friends for more information, read newspapers or books from that time, check archives. The Service Historique de la Marine, in France, sent Tony a drawing of the ship his grandfather came over in, complete with the dimensions and the name of the shipyard where it was built. The ship itself was named Le Zenobi.

In "The Lumberjack," by Ludger, we follow a young man with "almost a Grade 7" education in 1936 as he takes the only job he can find, in a lumber camp. We learn just how tough he is. "We were treated like slaves, whipped with cuss words. Legions of lice devoured us night and day. Sometimes we had to stop work and rub our backs against trees like animals."

These details form the middle of your story, showing the character, telling us what he does and why. Dialogue, or letting people speak, breathes life into your characters.

As you work on a story, the creative process may surprise you. You'll find yourself thinking of the characters, the locations and events. You'll dream about them and often wake up with an ending you've been trying to write.

The ending sometimes ties into the beginning, and always ties in with the plot. In "The Runaway," Louis and his friend are finally aboard ship, newly minted members of the French Merchant Marine: "We began to strut around like a pair of new owners. Two old sailors came up and solemnly handed each of us a pail and a brush. We were ordered below deck. Training in the French Navy had begun."

As the story ends, the main character may get what he wants and be happy or disappointed, realize he didn't want it after all, be sorry he ever sought it, or decide he had what he really wanted all along. The character typically changes in some way: gains a new perspective, learns a lesson, sees someone or something differently. Good endings make the reader feel like she's arrived. And so have we.

Revise, then start another

Reread and rework, checking spelling, punctuation and grammar, and read your story out loud to listen to the flow of words. When you're pleased with it, do what every storyteller does: start a new one.