What's Your Story, Morning Glory?

“‘I need your help,’ the blond whispered in my ear as she took me by the arm and started fast-walking me towards Boylston Street. Before I knew it, she pulled me into a taxi and barked ‘Copley Square’ at the driver. As we sped off, I noticed two men in dark overcoats and Homburg hats who were apparently trying to catch the same cab.

‘Stop here’ she said, when we pulled even with the Copley Plaza Hotel. She pushed me out of the cab door, threw some money at the driver, and we ran past the doorman into the crystal chandeliered lobby.

‘I have to use the Ladies’ she said, and while I was waiting, those two men in the Homburg hats came through the door. They had their right hands pushed inside their overcoats like this. . . .”

My father was breathless. He had come home late from work with this incredible story. My sister Connie and I (ages 11 and 5 at the time) were apparently the first audience for this tale.

I was vaguely aware that my mother Nan Culler was standing in the door to the red and white kitchen of our 1952 ranch house with her arms crossed on her ample bosom. Nan, the polymath school teacher, who’d stayed home to care for her children, was doing her best imitation of a displeased Queen Victoria, “We are NOT amused.”

But Connie and I were enthralled. “What happened next?”

“I left and took the subway to Harvard Square and caught the next bus home and here I am, late for your mother’s delicious supper. Go wash your hands.”

From our only bathroom, I heard my father go on about the blond and my mother say “. . . fine for the children, Raymond, but you should remember that I am not a child and neither are you.”

I come by natural mode of communication honestly. In the words of Hank Williams, Jr. “It’s a family tradition.”

My father told stories all the time. The blond was a favorite, told with all the sultry suspense of the noir detective novels he sometimes read. I’ve come to learn that the blond appeared when he needed a distraction from his latest failing. Connie and I loved the stories of the blond; my Mom, not-so-much.

My first memories of his stories were in bed on a Saturday morning with the covers pulled over our heads, “going to the circus.” I marveled at the smell of the sawdust and peanuts and never questioned that there was an entire three ring circus under the covers in one of our beds somewhere around where our toes might have been. There was always a backstory to the performance, the beautiful acrobat who walked with a slight limp because she fell last week or the ringmaster who once was a hobo, got a job as a roustabout and worked hard until the old ringmaster notice his deep rich bass voice and began training his replacement, “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. PLEASE TURN YOUR ATTENTION TO OUR CENTER RING.”

So I learned to tell stories to amuse my own children and now my daughter, Tegan, has passed on the family talent to her daughter, Phoebe, “age, 4 ¾ - 5 on September 30 –it’s on a Saturday this year, you know!”

So I tell stories and I collect other people’s stories. Recently, I posted a buzz about Ed MacGregor, a former train engineer, who found a second career in retirement and taught me about self-reliance.

@Ali Anani, one of the truly great thinkers and storytellers on beBee left some positive comments. "Only humans tell stories. . . you shined. . .Consulting as storytelling, what a great idea.”

I responded “High praise indeed from such a wordmaster. . . I am currently reading Neil Stephenson and Nicole Galland's book The Rise and Fall of Dodo, wherein they posit that magic, as practiced by witches, shamans, and storytellers, comes from facilitated connections to the multiple parallel universes used to explain quantum effects.
Perhaps some stories resonate because they mirror what's in what Jung called our collective unconscious - thought is powerful because it is shared by many.”

Ali 🐝 Anani, Brand Ambassador @beBee, thought catalyst that he is, encouraged me to think about expanding this comment into a buzz. I told him I would think on it.

I have grokked, in the words of Robert Heinlein’s, character in Stranger in a Strange Land, literally “to drink,” or to drink in knowledge and let it slosh around until something makes sense.

Here are some of my thoughts, shared with my beBee connections, not as the bee-all buzz about stories, but to start a conversation about storytelling.

Where do stories come from?

Recently I read an interview with an author (Neil Gaiman?) who lamented about his most frequent question from a certain type of reader, “’Gosh, where do you get your ideas from?’” The author sighed –“Ideas are never really the problem for me. I make stuff up and I write it down. The bigger problem for me is which idea to choose.”

Above, I suggest that stories may exist in the ether, in the Jungian collective unconscious, or the thought patterns between multiple universes. Certainly there are some stories that are archetypal. Joseph Campbell, the American mythologist, showed us the common truth between the myths of many cultures – there is a Hero with a Thousand Faces and a classic tale of the Hero’s Journey that many different peoples have used to describe what a leader must do.

My stories, typically come from my life, my almost 70 years on the planet, what I’ve seen and heard about from family, friends, and reading. When I am writing for business, I most often start with what I want to say. “I grok on it.” My personal stories become illustrations to the point I want to make. That happens in conversation too. My songs often come from a chord progression on the guitar, which reminds me of a feeling, which I then put a story to. If/when I end up writing fiction, stories may require a bit more planning and a return to Joseph Campbell.

Where do your stories come from?

What are stories used for?

Shamans used myths to explain the world – how was the world created? What is my rightful place in the universe? How does a good person behave that is different from how a bad person behaves? I use my stories to illustrate business points about leading change, continuous improvement, innovation, how teams work.

Sarah Elkins uses storytelling as a vehicle for helping individuals and companies build a personal brand. She encourages vulnerability “putting yourself out there,” by example. Witness her recent story on getting her first/only tattoo.

My Forum colleague, Edward Wachtman, in his company Storytellings bases customer research on archetypal stories to build resonant market presence and aligned corporate culture.

What do use stories for?

What makes a good story?

Some stories teach; some stories entertain. Some do both. All good stories engage the reader or listener.

A story may engage by presenting a unique idea, worldview, or concept – what if there were a world covered entirely by sand? (Dune.) Or I wonder what people’s everyday life was like for Londoners and Parisians during the French Revolution (A Tale of Two Cities.)

A story may engage the listener with a character they can identify with – Frodo, the Hobbit with the impossible challenge in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter.

In my experience great stories may challenge my thinking, but they always touch my emotions.

What makes a great story to you?

Story structure

I don’t intend to reiterate Literature or Creative Writing 101 here. Suffice it to say stories have a beginning, a middle and an end – really profound right? There is often some opening scene that leaves the listener wanting more and an introduction to the characters and a central problem for the protagonist. This is followed by crises faced by the protagonist (protagonist vs. antagonist, protagonist vs. events beyond her control). Then follows a climax – some problem solving or decision that works (or doesn’t in the case of tragedy.) Then comes the denouement, the winding down, the happily - (or unhappily) ever-after bit. (This is where the fabulist draws the lessons or in the case of the business consultant – what you might take away from this story of kids making a sled run in the 1950s.)

In my view all great stories have a great first line:

“It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” (A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens)

“The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed.” (The Gunslinger, Book 1 of the Dark Tower series by Stephen King)

“Once upon a time . . .”

And now, let’s begin this conversation about storytelling.

One of the great joys of my beBee experience is that there are so many great writers buzzing here. So, now,

Sarah Elkins Sarah Elkins, Ali 🐝 Anani, Brand Ambassador @beBee, Liesbeth Leysen, MSc. International Management, Certified Executive Coach. Brand Ambassador beBee, Inc., Sarah Elkins, Jerry Fletcher, Franci🐝Eugenia Hoffman, beBee Brand Ambassador, Melissa Hefferman, Tausif Mundrawala, Harvey Lloyd, Jerry Fletcher, Jim Murray Melissa Hefferman; Lyon Brave, Phil Friedman, Jim 🐝 Cody, Harvey Lloyd,   and all others,

in the frequent words of my sister, Carolyn, when I was 10 and she was 21,

“What’s your story, morning glory?”