By PATRICIA CRISAFULLI

            As a young child I discovered the power of storytelling. I became swept away when I learned that I possessed a seemingly magical power to create and inhabit an alternative reality known as the stories in my head.

            I must have been six or seven years old when, on a long night with little sleep, I began to tell myself a story. Soon I was fighting sleep in order to keep the tale going until finally, near dawn, I allowed myself to drift off. After that I was the only child who watched the clock eagerly for bedtime to arrive. As soon as I climbed in bed and the light was turned off, my mental theater would begin with the next installment of the saga, the plot of which I do not remember, except that I was the heroine.

            Stories then were entertainment and escape. Yet as a young girl playing with ideas—no matter how farfetched—I saw how stories could make my world bigger than it was. I dreamed other pieces of myself into existence through storytelling, so that by the time I was twelve or so, I knew I wanted to be a writer when I grew up.

            That is the power of Fiction, the third word of this web site title, and the subject of this final installment in a three-part blog on the meaning of Faith, Hope and Fiction. I view the world as a storyteller, processing the episodes that put my life into perspective and panning for the hidden nuggets of grace and wisdom. Fictional stories embroider life experiences with different names, places, and circumstances, helping me to make sense of the world around me. The characters I create struggle with what confounds me, resist what I fail to accept, and find the everyday miracles that lay at their feet like so many rose petals. Curiously, the characters are sometimes one step ahead of me, learning what I need to grasp, or expanding themselves into a territory that I have not yet explored. Their stories lead and I follow, navigating along the path of brokenness that is life toward healing and grace.

            When I created FaithHopeandFiction, my first thought was that it would allow me to share with others the stories that I write. Such a bold jump at a time when I was working on a novel, and only had two short stories I would consider sharing! Creating this web site started an engine that demanded the fuel of my creativity, to churn out two or three pieces per month, along with BLOGs and author interviews. I knew, then, that I would publish others’ stories, too. But where would all the stories come from?

            They come from you.

            By word of mouth, FaithHopeandFiction has spread among readers who, as I describe it, enjoy stories that “inspire and entertain,” and also among writers who long to share. And a community based on stories was born and continues to grow.

            There are still times when I lie awake and dream of stories, although not when I first go to bed because now with a busy life as a writer and ghostwriter I need my sleep. When I wake up a little earlier than usual, I let my mind wander and see what comes of my musings. Or else on my daily jog, I will start toying with a concept until the story begins to tell itself.

            For the past several weeks, including my month off from FaithHopeandFiction (the current issue is the combined July-August), I have been writing busily. All the new content for September is ready to go and October is right behind it. I’ve written what will be a four-part novella to take me through December. My “other writing”—including a non-fiction book that’s due at the end of the year—has gobbled up so much of my attention. I have become a master at time management.

            There have been days and even a week when I let go of my fiction because my non-fiction demanded so much of me. Fiction waited patiently as I met one deadline after the other, then in the quiet moments when my mind needed to rest after a long day, I felt the gentle fingers of an idea caressing my forehead. And as I closed my eyes, the story began.