I think wakela makes an excellent point. WARNING: Potential stereotyping follows....
It's been my observation that when telling stories, men tend to be more outcome/goal/action oriented, while women tend to be more process/journey/feelings oriented. Note my use of the word "tend." I admittedly paint with a broad brush, and no doubt you can find plenty of exceptions to my "rule."
For example, when Mrs. PCoC tells me a story about what happened during her workday, it might go like this:
"So Monica brought me a bunch of paperwork for me to sign off on, and she hadn't filled it out properly, so there's no way I could approve it, or I'd be the one catching hell over it. I can't believe it, I've told her about this before and she just doesn't listen. I told her she needed to do it the right way, and she just shrugged and said it was no big deal. Can you believe that? It really blew me away? How can she not care about this? Then she said I needed to get over it and not be so bossy. I was really insulted! I couldn't believe she'd say something like that. Can you imagine?"
Eventually I had to cut in and get her to tell me how the story ended. To me, the outcome is important. Did she sign the papers? Did Monica learn an important lesson? Yeah, I get it you're upset. But what happened? If I were telling the same story, it would go: "Monica brought me improperly filled out paperwork and said mean things to me." Bam. One sentence. No need to go on and on about who felt what and to what degree. It's needless hand-wringing.
An old girlfriend of mine would always be bringing problems to me--personality conflicts with coworkers and such. And I'd listen and then suggest a solution to her. She didn't like that. The point of the exercise was to share feelings, not to look for solutions. I don't understand this. I'm a guy. I solve problems. It's what I do. The idea that hashing and rehashing what you feel about this situation and that situation is somehow an ends in itself is just goofy. I don't get it.
And this attitude is all too prominent in literature written by women. This story and the recent "Kindness of Strangers" demonstrate this. Lots of whinging about feelings, but those feelings never do get resolved (just aired out), and no real action. In "Kindness of Strangers," there was probably a far more interesting story to be told from the standpoint of the men planning to escape, rather that female narrator. They were actually doing something. She just sat around and watched and whined about her unhappy love affair.