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United States 🇺🇸

Ellyn E

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Bio

Ellyn comes from the insane world of film and television development. A writer, an executive, a graduate of Penn State University, and the mom of a strong-willed youngster with too many pets, Ellyn has lived multiple lives and seen it all. She has worked for years as a story editor, and currently as a freelance writer for multiple media outlets. Ellyn is always working on the next screenplay or children’s book. You can ask her about her Mr. and Mrs. Smith gossip, though she may never tell.

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As a Story Terrace writer, Ellyn E interviews customers and turns their life stories into books. Get to know our writer better by reading the autobiographical anecdote below!

Ruffles

I was a child of the 80s and my mother loved to dress us in ribbons, saddle shoes, seersucker, and ruffles.

My mother learned to make her own clothes early on in life, as so many young women did in those days. She often stitched many of our outfits as children. It was not due to financial hardship, but quite the opposite. Presentation was important; a quality that she most likely did not pass along to my sister and I as much as she had hoped.

This was still a time in history when children were better seen than heard. It may have been the last. The weather that day was scorching. As a toddler, it wouldn’t have made an iota of difference if the thermometer read 82 or 102.

I was hot.

So between the heat and the ruffles, I do not blame my younger self for the sour expression that was inevitably captured for eternity of that moment in time.

It was the one final occasion that our extended family would be together and we were there to celebrate my grandparents’ sixtieth anniversary.

Sixty years of marriage means nothing to a child. It’s only now, as an adult losing time by the millisecond that I understand this is nothing at which to shake a fist. There will be very few in my generation with the tenacity to survive a partnership with another human being for more than half a century.

My favorite memory of the festivities was the fun I had with my older sister, Meg. Being only three years apart, we were best friends but could also fight like wild beasts. I would personally argue this is the typical relationship of close sisters.

The only little ones in attendance, Meg and I were darting from table to table, hiding under the plastic cloths while the adults lingered with their food. Our game was to sneak as much candy as possible without getting caught.

I was mad when we were pulled from our fun for the family portraits. I remember making that pitiful face. I was a stubborn, little mule.

My grandmother who loved me more than she loved herself thought she could console me into a smile.

But I wanted to play with my big sister.

That day in the scorching heat, we were both in ruffles, making our own trouble as sisters, and friends.

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