Storytelling speaks to the craft of composing and presenting a story to an audience.

On Writing (Your Story) Well – Part One

When telling true stories, people often assume it’s simply a matter of repeating the truth. That’s the best place to begin, as facts are the foundation of personal storytelling, but maximizing the impact of your story comes down to the words, sentences, and paragraphs that comprise all narratives. It’s the writing process which turns truth into story.

Professional writers know this, spending the majority of their time editing what they’ve written. Word choice. Sentence structure. Narrative arc. Writers devote their career to mastering the art of telling stories that matter. For most of us it tends to be a different story.

We learned to write at a very early age, but once we entered the school system the focus was on grammar, which is a necessary component of the writing task, but unfortunately, there was scant guidance when it came to using that proper grammar to tell personal stories. We leave school and begin our career lacking the storytelling skills that can positively effect every aspect of our future.

I was blessed early on in my career when a colleague handed me a new copy of On Writing Well by William Zinsser. That was decades ago, and I’ve since owned a number of copies along the way. I’ve read it many times, refer to it often, and I’m still learning. If telling personal stories is something you aspire to, and want to maximize the impact of your stories, I recommend you pick up a copy.

On Writing Well by William Zinsser Book Cover

The book covers a lot of territory, more than can be covered one post, so in this first installment I will highlight some key points revealed in Part One of the book.

From Part I on Principles

Writing is hard work. A clear sentence is no accident. Very few sentences come out right the first time, or even the third time. Remember this in moments of despair. If you find that writing
is hard, it’s because it is hard.

Some storytellers that I work with know this day one, most don’t, but they soon discover this reality as we get to revision 4, 5, 6, 7. It’s easy to write. Just pick up a pen, or let your fingers dance across a keyboard. Words do come out, but the first words we write rarely convey the true meaning of our story. The words we need have a way of hiding off the page. Sneaky bastards.

Our first drafts sit on the surface. A basic outline is there. The bones, if you will. And that’s fine, as every structure needs a frame. But it takes focused effort to dig deeper into a story while at the same time polishing a narrative that shifts. Writing and editing. Listening and editing. Rehearsing and editing. Hard work.

The Power of (any) Language

It’s a question of using the English language in a way that will
achieve the greatest clarity and strength.

I always stress the importance of maximizing impact when I help someone craft their narrative, but I like William’s word choice here: achieve the greatest clarity and strength. When a point is not clear the reader or listener may get confused and disconnect from the narrative. Strength comes from not hedging your bets. Say what you mean and be direct. That doesn’t mean overdoing it for dramatic effect. Strength comes from authenticity, not theatrics.

Narratives Under the Microscope

Reexamine each sentence you put on paper. Is every word doing new work? Can any thought be expressed with more economy? Is anything pompous or pretentious or faddish? Are you hanging on to something useless just because you think it’s beautiful?

This is the tedious part, and the step that many writers and speakers cut short. The process involves writing, then reading what you wrote and fixing the most obvious problems. Repeat the cycle until the issues found move from major to minor. Don’t shoot for perfection; that won’t happen at this stage. It’s time for adding audio to the sequence.

Recite the story out loud using your natural voice, as though you were telling it to someone. You will find a whole new basket of problems to correct. Listen for sentences that are too long, words with too many syllables or too complex, and clichés that should be axed. Edit, edit & edit. Then use a smartphone to record your story and play it back. Now your brain isn’t spending any energy trying to speak and you can concentrate on what you’re hearing.

Are the sentences concise? Does it sound like you? We tend to write in a more formal fashion than we speak, using words more difficult than those we would naturally say. If you stumble over words or phrases, see if you can find easier, simpler replacements. The easier it is to say, the easier it is to hear.

What to Include

Never say anything in writing that you wouldn’t comfortably say in conversation.

It’s common for storytellers to ask how much they should reveal, how far they should go in exposing the essence of their personal story, and knowing where the line is can be difficult to determine. I often advise, “Don’t say anything you wouldn’t say at the dinner table.” I like both views, but there are exceptions.

In any case, you must consider your audience as you edit. In our digital world written articles, podcasts and videos get global distribution, or at a minimum, global access. You want your message to be heard, and be as meaningful as possible, but it’s also possible to alienate your audience with details that are considered too shocking or graphic.

In the end you must make that call. One way to approach the topic is to write your story out in full, saying as much as you feel comfortable sharing publicly. Then rehearse your story in front of trusted friends or family – if your story is written, have them read it. Ask whether it felt as if you were holding back and playing it safe, or if it’s a case of TMI (too much information).

Reflection

These are four pearls from On Writing Well that I’m still (after many years) trying to master. Every time I write something (I think is) wonderful, I wake up the next day, reread my prose and become convinced that someone broke into my home in the middle of the night and changed what I wrote the previous day. I couldn’t have written something so bad, but I did. In those moments of despair I’m glad that the wisdom of William Zinsser is close at hand.

Learn more about the coaching process or
contact me to discuss your storytelling goals!

Subscribe to our newsletter for the latest updates!

Copyright Storytelling with Impact – All rights reserved

Telling Stories About Storytelling

Most of my time is spent working with clients, helping them craft and deliver impactful talks, but once in a while I have the opportunity to hang out with a master storyteller and have an in-depth conversation on the art of storytelling. Such was the case when I was a guest on the Speak Like a Leader podcast, hosted by John Bates, the founder of Executive Speaking Success.

I met John back in my TEDx days, when I was organizing TEDxSanDiego and he was at the helm of TEDxSantaMonica, and our first conversation centered on what makes a good story. We’ve stayed connected over the years and still share a common passion for helping others uncover and tell their personal stories.

Mark Lovett on Speaker Like a Leader Podcast

[listen to the entire podcast here or listen to an excerpt below]

Behind the scenes at a TEDx event

We started out talking about the TEDx world from the viewpoint of a TEDx organizer, and I shared the advice that I give to everyone who wants to be on a TED or TEDx stage – that your story should be based on your passion, on a topic that you’re speaking about or writing about on other platforms. The more you’re doing that, the more likely that an organizer will come across your work and think of you as a thought leader on the topic. John’s brilliant insight was that everyone should be living a TED-worthy life. Which is to say, you should be making a difference in the world regardless of whether you get on a TEDx stage.

Mark Lovett as quoted on the Speak Like a Leader podcast #1

What’s unique about you?

We also got into the nuts and bolts of storytelling, and the importance of your unique voice, your view of the world, and the way that can shift perspectives of people in the audience, teach them something, or expand their horizons. With the best TED and TEDx talks, I always think and feel a bit different after the talk concludes. What do listeners think and feel about your topic beforehand, and then after your talk? If there was no difference, then your talk had no impact.

Mark Lovett as quoted on the Speak Like a Leader podcast #2

We also addressed the issue of preparation, as this is one of the most frequently asked questions from potential speakers. How to get ready for the stage. You’ll hear many different opinions on the topic of memorizing, from those who believe in it, to those who avoid it. In working with hundreds of clients over the years, John and I have come to realize that each speaker is unique, and they need to figure out what works best for them.

Regardless of method, the key thing is to rehearse, and rehearse, and rehearse. You need to become very familiar with the points that you want to make during your talk. And a great way to do that is by rehearsing in front of friends or family who will give you honest feedback. Then go back and edit, and rehearse again.

There’s so much more that we covered during our hour together, and it was such an honor to spend time talking to John Bates about the magic of storytelling. So give this episode a listen, and then subscribe to the podcast to hear John interview a wide range of subject matter experts.

Learn more about the coaching process or
contact me to discuss your storytelling goals!

Subscribe to our newsletter for the latest updates!

Copyright Storytelling with Impact – All rights reserved

Ashley Wurth Storytelling at The Monti

Personal stories can be challenging, especially when the past that you want to talk about – the trials and tribulations that form the basis of your experience – is difficult to share. It’s not easy to embrace the vulnerability that is required to create impact with an audience, but in her talk from the stage at The Monti on October 19, 2021 in Durham, North Carolina, Ashley Wurth summoned up the courage to do just that.

In less than 10 minutes Ashley takes us on a journey of the heart while she demonstrates the true power of perseverance and the grace of redemption. Many speakers find it difficult to reveal the dark side of their childhood – they don’t want to say anything negative about family members – as well as the bad decisions they’ve made along the way – they would rather those facts remain hidden from view. Problem is, we don’t learn much from sugar-coated stories.

“The only feeling we could count on was afraid” 

But at the same time, she is quite adept at inserting bits of humor that change the tone of the story, if only for a brief moment. This is masterful storytelling, because it’s how life works. Sometimes we’re the one looking for the funny side of a bad situation, and sometimes life itself, by way of friends and family, even encounters with strangers, will provide a dose or two of comic relief.

“I am never, ever, going to break his heart” 

I was fascinated by the juxtaposition of her life slipping into a world of drug abuse while maintaining a sense of normalcy for so many years. But that narrative didn’t last forever, and she was in store for a number of painful twists and turns. It’s this type of complex, non-logical story line that is common for so many of us. It’s not one thing or the other, it’s a blending of highs and lows, of choices made, of failures and recovery that make our journey unique.

“And I’ve also learned through all of this, that not only can you fill a broken heart, you can mend one.” 

If you have a difficult and/or problematic story to tell, I invite you to listen to Ashley’s saga, to tap into her courage and vulnerability, as well as the pearl that she ends with. My life doesn’t resemble her’s in the least, yet I have a new, more humble perspective on life, and on people whose lives were different than mine. Your story can change lives too. Sit down. Write it. Then tell it.

Learn more about the coaching process or
contact me to discuss your storytelling goals!

Subscribe to our newsletter for the latest updates!

Copyright Storytelling with Impact – All rights reserved

Just Another (Storytelling) Day

It’s January 1st, 2021. In one sense it’s just another day, with another sunrise, and another sunset. But our embrace of the Gregorian calendar has a way of altering our perception of time, and we, therefore, perceive ourselves as having exited one year (past) while entering another (future) at the stroke of midnight. Never mind that there are 24 time zones, and so, two dozen strokes to mark the occasion. Time, like story, is never a simple contemplation.

This “out with the old, in with the new” mindset belies the fact that nothing has actually changed. The scourge of human trafficking and climate change, religious fundamentalism, radicalized racism, pandemic passivism, and sociopathic narcissism still ravage humanity and the planet. Millions strive to change this narrative, but these are very stubborn stories.

But if midnight serves as a reset button, a way to recalibrate, to turn the page and begin writing a new narrative, then it can be a redeeming process. As the year 2020 was coming to a close I spent a few days around Christmas with my family in Sweden and thought a lot about the impending stroke of midnight that would occur after my return to Portugal.

Morning View Outside Stockholm December 2020

The extended dark mornings reminded me of the dark reality humanity was dealing with. Having endured nearly four years of the worst American president in history. A man who has publicly turned his back on 7.8 billion people – yes, even his most loyal supporters – condemning the earth to decades of environmental catastrophe. Adding to the darkness, a pandemic that was long ago predicted, and yet criminally ignored, ravaged country after country. By the time midnight arrived on December 31st over 83 million would be infected, resulting in over 1.8 million coronavirus deaths.

Yet there were lights shining within the darkness, represented by stories that I had heard throughout the year. Stories from friends, family, and many strangers. Stories of loss and disappointment, of dreams that were put on hold, or cancelled altogether. Lives that had shifted from confidence to unnerving uncertainty. Yet each story contained the seed of a different future. One that appreciated the connectedness of humanity, one that cast a light on the illusion of separateness. Was darkness serving a higher purpose?

This consideration of how dark times shape us was on my mind when an email arrived from the amazing poet Silvi Alcivar, offering an insight into the nature, and the benefit, of embracing that which has always existed in our world – darkness.

“and i keep thinking about how all the darkness of these days is really showing us where there is light, who holds it, what we have to offer of our own, and how the darkness seems to have a necessary place too. the moon knows this. and the stars. and the roots wintering in earth. and the creatures no one has ever seen who live in depths of ocean humans will never touch. and the dark itself.” ~Silvi Alcivar

I studied my fellow passengers as they boarded the return flight to Lisbon. Everyone was wearing a mask, which on the one hand was reassuring, but masks hide the emotions that play a vital role in telling our in-the-moment story. I wondered why they were there, what their reason was for ignoring – as I had done – the advice of medical experts to stay home over the holidays. What did the season mean to them? How had their year been, and what stories would they create in 2021? Truth told, each of us lives within our own mystery.

And despite the safe practices required by the airline, the reality was that we were taking a risk vs staying at home. But at the same time we were choosing life. We had decided to include others as characters in our story, creating a richer narrative. That’s not a defense of the decisions we had made, just a raw explanation, and it posed a difficult question:

If we find ourselves in the midst of darkness,
how do we choose to live life?

How will you choose to live life on January 1st, after the imagined stroke of midnight sounds and we put 2020 behind us? Will you frame the new year as a new start, or a new chapter, or maybe just another day of storytelling in your exceptional, yet mysterious life?Wheat Stalk Close Up Stockholm 2020

Learn more about the coaching process or
contact me to discuss your storytelling goals!

Subscribe to our newsletter for the latest updates!

Copyright Storytelling with Impact – All rights reserved

Danielle Feinberg: The magic ingredient that brings Pixar movies to life @ TED Talks Live

TED Talks Live were held at The Town Hall Theater in NYC, in November of 2015. I had the pleasure of attending all six nights to hear speakers present impactful Ideas Worth Spreading. This post is an analysis of a talk by Danielle Feinberg on the magic ability of Pixar movies to capture our imagination.

Watch Danielle’s TED Talk. She not only speaks to her personal passion, but how her experiences at Pixar create films that touch the lives of millions. By tying the innocence of animation to the physics of lighting she provides a unique behind-the-scenes view of how art is blended with science, and how the dream that we imagine can become our reality.

Transcript

(my notes in red)

When I was seven years old, some well-meaning adult asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Proudly, I said: “An artist.” “No, you don’t,” he said, “You can’t make a living being an artist!”

For some people the life they lead as an adult began with a dream in childhood. I’ve found this to be true for a lot of artists, writers, musicians, even teachers and attorneys. It’s an opening that connects to an audience (we’ve all had dreams as children) and sets the stage for the narrative that follows.

My little seven-year-old Picasso dreams were crushed. But I gathered myself, went off in search of a new dream, eventually settling on being a scientist, perhaps something like the next Albert Einstein.

I have always loved math and science, later, coding. And so I decided to study computer programming in college. In my junior year, my computer graphics professor showed us these wonderful short films. It was the first computer animation any of us had ever seen. I watched these films in wonder, transfixed, fireworks going off in my head, thinking, “That is what I want to do with my life.” The idea that all the math, science and code I had been learning could come together to create these worlds and characters and stories I connected with, was pure magic for me.

Detours are another factor in many lives. What seems to be a change in direction ends up circling back, though often in a modified way. Danielle comes back to art, but from the perspective of computer graphics. Think about the detours in your personal story that an audience would appreciate hearing about.

Just two years later, I started working at the place that made those films, Pixar Animation Studios. It was here I learned how we actually execute those films. To create our movies, we create a three-dimensional world inside the computer. We start with a point that makes a line that makes a face that creates characters, or trees and rocks that eventually become a forest. And because it’s a three-dimensional world, we can move a camera around inside that world. I was fascinated by all of it. But then I got my first taste of lighting.

While Danielle’s personal experiences continue to be foundational to this story, there’s a shift at this point away from her and toward to topic of her talk – what brings Pixar movies to light. Using the visual on the screen behind her, the audience is pulled into the world of animation. The combination of image and words can transport people into your experience…

Lighting in practice is placing lights inside this three-dimensional world. I actually have icons of lights I move around in there. Here you can see I’ve added a light, I’m turning on the rough version of lighting in our software, turn on shadows and placing the light. As I place a light, I think about what it might look like in real life, but balance that out with what we need artistically and for the story. So it might look like this at first, but as we adjust this and move that in weeks of work, in rough form it might look like this, and in final form, like this.

…and in this story, there’s no substitute for the visual imagery. It is possible to describe how lighting works in the animation process without the accompanying visuals – and I always invite storytellers to think about how they would tell their story using only words – but in Danielle’s story the impact would only be a fraction of what she is able to achieve.

There’s this moment in lighting that made me fall utterly in love with it. It’s where we go from this to this. It’s the moment where all the pieces come together, and suddenly the world comes to life as if it’s an actual place that exists. This moment never gets old, especially for that little seven-year-old girl that wanted to be an artist.

As I learned to light, I learned about using light to help tell story, to set the time of day, to create the mood, to guide the audience’s eye, how to make a character look appealing or stand out in a busy set.

While the specific topic is lighting in animation, the revelation described applies across the creative spectrum. The ability of elements such as sound, color, texture, and perspective can tell a story of it’s own. Storytelling in general can tap into this attribute through description. Can you describe a scene in such a way as to enhance your story?

Did you see WALL-E? There he is. As you can see, we can create any world that we want inside the computer. We can make a world with monsters, with robots that fall in love, we can even make pigs fly.

While this is an incredible thing, this untethered artistic freedom, it can create chaos. It can create unbelievable worlds, unbelievable movement, things that are jarring to the audience.

So to combat this, we tether ourselves with science. We use science and the world we know as a backbone, to ground ourselves in something relatable and recognizable. “Finding Nemo” is an excellent example of this. A major portion of the movie takes place underwater. But how do you make it look underwater?

In early research and development, we took a clip of underwater footage and recreated it in the computer. Then we broke it back down to see which elements make up that underwater look. One of the most critical elements was how the light travels through the water. So we coded up a light that mimics this physics — first, the visibility of the water, and then what happens with the color. Objects close to the eye have their full, rich colors. As light travels deeper into the water, we lose the red wavelengths, then the green wavelengths, leaving us with blue at the far depths.

Danielle uses a science story block to explain how the folks at Pixar tapped into how light works to create realistic images that our eye accepts as real. Similarly, science can be used to expand up a number of other topics, from human emotions to the effects of climate change. Many times the science alone can come off as too technical, and thus, too boring, but when tied to a real life application / situation, the science comes to life.

In this clip you can see two other important elements. The first is the surge and swell, or the invisible underwater current that pushes the bits of particulate around in the water. The second is the caustics. These are the ribbons of light, like you might see on the bottom of a pool, that are created when the sun bends through the crests of the ripples and waves on the ocean’s surface. Here we have the fog beams. These give us color depth cues, but also tells which direction is up in shots where we don’t see the water surface. The other really cool thing you can see here is that we lit that particulate only with the caustics, so that as it goes in and out of those ribbons of light, it appears and disappears, lending a subtle, magical sparkle to the underwater.

You can see how we’re using the science — the physics of water, light and movement — to tether that artistic freedom. But we are not beholden to it. We considered each of these elements and which ones had to be scientifically accurate and which ones we could push and pull to suit the story and the mood.

We realized early on that color was one we had some leeway with. So here’s a traditionally colored underwater scene. But here, we can take Sydney Harbor and push it fairly green to suit the sad mood of what’s happening. In this scene, it’s really important we see deep into the underwater, so we understand what the East Australian Current is, that the turtles are diving into and going on this roller coaster ride. So we pushed the visibility of the water well past anything you would ever see in real life. Because in the end, we are not trying to recreate the scientifically correct real world, we’re trying to create a believable world, one the audience can immerse themselves in to experience the story.

It’s important to draw a distinction between the creation of a fictional story (one told in an animated movie) and the telling of a true story. While Danielle and the folks at Pixar have the ability to violate the laws of physics for artistic impact, storytelling with impact requires that only the truth be told. It will be your version of the truth, and other people may see things differently, but your story is authentic to the real world.

We use science to create something wonderful. We use story and artistic touch to get us to a place of wonder. This guy, WALL-E, is a great example of that. He finds beauty in the simplest things. But when he came in to lighting, we knew we had a big problem. We got so geeked-out on making WALL-E this convincing robot, that we made his binoculars practically optically perfect.

His binoculars are one of the most critical acting devices he has. He doesn’t have a face or even traditional dialogue, for that matter. So the animators were heavily dependent on the binoculars to sell his acting and emotions. We started lighting and we realized the triple lenses inside his binoculars were a mess of reflections. He was starting to look glassy-eyed.

Now, glassy-eyed is a fundamentally awful thing when you are trying to convince an audience that a robot has a personality and he’s capable of falling in love. So we went to work on these optically perfect binoculars, trying to find a solution that would maintain his true robot materials but solve this reflection problem.

So we started with the lenses. Here’s the flat-front lens, we have a concave lens and a convex lens. And here you see all three together, showing us all these reflections. We tried turning them down, we tried blocking them, nothing was working. You can see here, sometimes we needed something specific reflected in his eyes — usually Eve. So we couldn’t just use some faked abstract image on the lenses. So here we have Eve on the first lens, we put Eve on the second lens, it’s not working. We turn it down, it’s still not working.

And then we have our eureka moment. We add a light to WALL-E that accidentally leaks into his eyes. You can see it light up these gray aperture blades. Suddenly, those aperture blades are poking through that reflection the way nothing else has. Now we recognize WALL-E as having an eye. As humans we have the white of our eye, the colored iris and the black pupil. Now WALL-E has the black of an eye, the gray aperture blades and the black pupil. Suddenly, WALL-E feels like he has a soul, like there’s a character with emotion inside.

Later in the movie towards the end, WALL-E loses his personality, essentially going dead. This is the perfect time to bring back that glassy-eyed look. In the next scene, WALL-E comes back to life. We bring that light back to bring the aperture blades back, and he returns to that sweet, soulful robot we’ve come to love.

(Video) WALL-E: Eva?

There’s a beauty in these unexpected moments — when you find the key to unlocking a robot’s soul, the moment when you discover what you want to do with your life. The jellyfish in “Finding Nemo” was one of those moments for me.

There are scenes in every movie that struggle to come together. This was one of those scenes. The director had a vision for this scene based on some wonderful footage of jellyfish in the South Pacific. As we went along, we were floundering. The reviews with the director turned from the normal look-and-feel conversation into more and more questions about numbers and percentages. Maybe because unlike normal, we were basing it on something in real life, or maybe just because we had lost our way. But it had become about using our brain without our eyes, the science without the art. That scientific tether was strangling the scene.

But even through all the frustrations, I still believed it could be beautiful. So when it came in to lighting, I dug in. As I worked to balance the blues and the pinks, the caustics dancing on the jellyfish bells, the undulating fog beams, something promising began to appear. I came in one morning and checked the previous night’s work. And I got excited. And then I showed it to the lighting director and she got excited. Soon, I was showing to the director in a dark room full of 50 people.

In director review, you hope you might get some nice words, then you get some notes and fixes, generally. And then, hopefully, you get a final, signaling to move on to the next stage. I gave my intro, and I played the jellyfish scene. And the director was silent for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Just long enough for me to think, “Oh no, this is doomed.” And then he started clapping. And then the production designer started clapping. And then the whole room was clapping.

This is the moment that I live for in lighting. The moment where it all comes together and we get a world that we can believe in.

As consumers we only get to see the finished product, which in the case of Pixar feels flawless, but Danielle has taken us on a journey of challenges. The problems that had to be addressed in order to achieve that flawless feel. That expression, ‘This is the moment that I live for…’ is one that is contained in so many impactful personal stories, regardless of topic. You had a dream, but along the way got lost, or things didn’t work as planned, but with perseverance those issues were overcome.

We use math, science and code to create these amazing worlds. We use storytelling and art to bring them to life. It’s this interweaving of art and science that elevates the world to a place of wonder, a place with soul, a place we can believe in, a place where the things you imagine can become real — and a world where a girl suddenly realizes not only is she a scientist, but also an artist.

We come back to the beginning of Danielle’s story with a beautiful feeling of magic, of imagination, that all things are possible. In many cases the message within the story is revealed along the way, often at the midway point or just beyond, but that message can also appear in the final words of a story, as we see here.

Thank you.

[Note: all comments inserted into this transcript are my opinions, not those of the speaker, the TED organization, nor anyone else on the planet. In my view, each story is unique, as is every interpretation of that story. The sole purpose of these analytical posts is to inspire a storyteller to become a storylistener, and in doing so, make their stories more impactful.]

Learn more about the coaching process or
contact me to discuss your storytelling goals!

Subscribe to our newsletter for the latest updates!

Copyright Storytelling with Impact – All rights reserved