"He's silent, wherever he is." [On metaphorical terrain.]

"By now one more American sheep the shepherds have temporarily lost track of, somewhere in the high country above this ruinous hour, cragfast* in the storm."

-From page 402 of "Bleeding Edge" by Thomas Pynchon.

______
*From the Oxford English Dictionary:

"She finds herself gazing out the window." [Towards the Deseret, a (fictional) apartment house.]

"She squints past roofline contours, vents, skylights, water tanks and cornices under this pre-storm lighting, shining as if already wet against the darkening sky, down the street to where the cursed Deseret rears above Broadway, one or two storm-nervous lights already on, its stonework at this distance seeming too uncleansable, its shadows too many, ever to breach."

-Just one sentence (the prior one provides this post's title) from page 199 of "Bleeding Edge" by Thomas Pynchon.

"People Thought He Was A Monster And Wanted Him To Die. I’m Glad He’s Alive To Tell His Story."

I am proud of Thaler for producing this:



More here.

"How many do you have?"

In "The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity," playing through the end of the month at the Woolly Mammoth Theater in Washington, D.C., Chad Deity says:

"Chad Deity has four crispers in his fridge, and he doesn't even use a crisper."

I've never seen a better or more topical wrestling drama. If you're in the area, go! Tickets available.

Simple Stories & Complex Narratives

Read my new post, reflecting on the question, "If your organization is seeking to solve a complex problem, must it always share complex stories?" Inspired, of course, by Invisible Children's Kony 2012, the most viral video ever.

I don't happen to think simple stories are needed to share complex narratives. (I use "narrative" to refer to the larger story and frame, and "story" as the small episodes and moments that encapsulate the larger narrative.) People are emotionally complex, live complex lives, and can relate to authentic, emotionally complex stories. The longevity of The New Yorker, the popularity of This American Life, the respect and attention paid the deeply reported journalism of ProPublica attest to our willingness to thoroughly engage with complex long-form narratives.

Read the complete essay here.

Narrative, Big Data & the Future of Communication

My reflections on the SXSW conference, Emotion and the Search for Meaning for SXSW, have been published here.

Those who Espouse Only Evidence Typically Lose

Narrative vs Evidence-Based Medicine—And, Not Or was just published in the Journal of the American Medical Association.

Here at NeuroCooking, we have long argued, as this article in Scientific American states,

'Stories are an essential part of how individuals understand and use evidence,' [Zachary Meisel and Jason Karlawish] wrote. And they can have a powerful effect on public opinion and policy....'Narratives, when compared with reporting statistical evidence alone, can have uniquely persuasive effects in overcoming preconceived beliefs and cognitive biases.'

I so hope that scientists throughout the world see past the poor title of this article and into the wisdom it contains - and engage in finding, developing (further developing), and sharing their stories! I am eager to assist.

Mark Trail, superhero?

Mark Trail is hiding in a closet.

"deny & imply"

A brief passage from Gary Shteyngart's remarkable new novel, "Super Sad True Love Story":

.... A tank rolled over to us, and the nine first-class Americans instinctively raised our hands. The tank stopped short; a single soldier in T-shirt and shorts popped out of the hatch and planted a highway sign next to it, black letters against an orange background:

IT IS FORBIDDEN TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE EXISTENCE OF THIS VEHICLE ("THE OBJECT") UNTIL YOU ARE .5 MILES FROM THE SECURITY PERIMETER OF JOHN F. KENNEDY INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT. BY READING THIS SIGN YOU HAVE DENIED EXISTENCE OF THE OBJECT AND IMPLIED CONSENT.

– American Restoration Authority,

Security Directive IX-2.11

"Together We'll Surprise the World!"

Identifying Narratives & Finding Stories

Sometimes, you first need to identify the underlying narrative, and then go about finding the small stories that support it.

Sometimes, you need to examine lots of small stories in order to find the underlying narrative.

Reflections on the Smithsonian Institution Conference on Organizational Storytelling, & the Golden Fleece storytelling conference

Although my thoughts are not yet fully formed, I want to offer some immediate reflection on the past 3 days, spent with colleagues, students, and leaders in the field of applied narrative....

* I am especially delighted to have met Victoria Ward, of Sparknow, and to have discussed with her some of the ethical boundaries of working with story within nongovernmental and nonprofit organizations: one person's story should not be elicited solely for the purpose of getting money from a donor, or capturing other resources. Story is not a commodity, to be taken from one person and given to another, for a price. I've previously touched on the dangers of approaching storytelling as a transaction, and I will continue to explore how story can be ethically and effective used as a communication tool within the philanthropic sector.

* Leading up to the weekend, there was some discussion of the extent to which the applications and breadth of the concept of story would be discussed. Will participants solely be discussing face-to-face story sharing? Or the creation of a personal or organizational or meta- narrative through social media? At the Thursday evening program, I deliberately stated that the program was focused on interpersonal story sharing to move listeners to action, especially in a business setting. The insight gleaned from our program can be applied to organizational narrative, messaging framing, and digital storytelling (to mention just a few applications), and each of those communication vehicles has their own approaches and spaces for innovation.

Today, Larry Forster, of Shell Exploration and Production Co., and I discussed our reflections on the two conferences. What I came to realize is that both interpersonal and organizational communication is chaotic and distributed simultaneously across multiple channels, and that story is a tool for making sense of, embracing, and somewhat taming, that complexity. It's not about face-to-face versus social media storytelling, but rather about sharing large narratives and distinct stories across all platforms. Some avenues are better carriers of narrative and some are more suited to the sharing of personal story.

Just as I implore people to make ambiguous concepts concrete, I think those of us working in the field of applied narrative should ask our audiences about their interests and strive to articulate the specific definitions and applications of which we are speaking. I am reminded of Svend-Erik Engh's definition of "diamond" stories, meaning the shining story that perfectly captures brand essence; Shawn Callahan's distinction between "Big S" and "little s" stories; and Cynthia Kurtz's discussion of "natural" versus "purposeful" stories.

* At both our Wednesday program in NYC on communication and story for leaders, and at our Smithsonian Institution program on the use of story in organizations, Svend-Erik and I received the same question: Does one tell a story differently to men and to women?

I believe story sharing knows no gender difference. And I know of no scientific data to support a distinct approach for each gender. What matters is sharing an authentic story with your listener and listening, in turn, to him or her to respond based on their experience. What do you think?

adventures in minimalism

Long ago, before google, I belonged to an internet writers' group that ran as a listserv. Members contributed stories, mostly autobiographical, which were distributed without editing or annotation; everything happened via email. Many of the members wrote daily. I too contributed regularly, but in a minimalist vein, sending in, for some time, an almost-daily report consisting, in its entirety, of either:

Breakfasted; walked dog.

Or:

Walked dog; breakfasted.

The choice depended simply on in which order I had done those two things that morning.

One Saturday, it happened that my wife woke early and walked the dog without me. So, I contributed, on that day, to this story-writers' list, an email that consisted of a single-word sentence:

Breakfasted.

In reply, I received, from people in many nations, emails asking – some quite anxiously! – about the health of my dog.

the opposite of story

The other evening, Tom asked me, “What is the opposite of narrative?”

Tom was recalling a radio interview with a Republican communications strategist about the 2008 Presidential election. The strategist said something like, “We don’t do that whole Obama narrative thing, we do x.” Tom could not recall the strategist's definition of x.

The question got me wondering, What is the opposite of story?

I posted this query to a group of colleagues working in applied narrative, and a wonderful conversation is taking place. One response, in particular, resonates:

“For me, it's "opinion". As opinions don't tell anything, that is to say the listener has no existence for the guy who expresses an opinion.” – Stephane Dangel (in French; for an interview in English, click here)

This past Sunday evening, I grew frustrated with the Storytelling class I am currently taking. Now, it was only the second class, and the focus so far has been on finding what our teacher calls the Main Event in each story that is shared. Great things are happening in the class, and of course, strong bonds are forming between my classmates as we intimately share and “workshop” our personal stories each week. But the listener has been absent in our discussions. There’s been no discussion of exploring the emotions one may be eliciting in a listener by sharing a particular story, or if you have a desired emotion or action you would like to elicit. It is obvious that many of my classmates are sharing stories for reasons other than simply entertaining an audience.

Nor has there been discussion that the act of sharing a story is akin to giving a gift. Even if one expects nothing in return (and aren’t those the best gifts to receive?), one must think about the reactions that may be generated by the sharing of the story.

In Improv, there is a co-creation with one’s Improv partners, and with the audience. Every moment is completely unexpected and will never be replicated. Great professional storytellers know that the audience is crucial to both the delivery and intake of a story.

Perhaps my background in persuasive communication has me too focused on the intent of the person sharing the story, the listener, and how and where the sharer taps into the listener’s memories and stored experiences. I want to get better at the technical aspects of sharing a story. But for now, talking about storytelling without talking about the importance of the listener leaves me empty.

nifty

From the BBC, a laboratory demonstration of greenhouse gas warming in a bottle.

“What’s the story of the story?”

Today’s Worldwide Story Network teleconference resulted in great insight from Paul Costello, head of The Center for Narrative Studies, and author of The Presidential Plot.

In examining cultural and political narratives, Paul advised us to ask, “What’s the story of the story?”

This means, in essence, to take a long view, and to take in the full context and complexity of the story. To “Get off the dance floor and look down from the balcony.”

Paul suggested that people “Think of some cultural and political stories as products. They are being sold to us, and they may very well harm or even kill us.” He spoke of our “narrative vulnerabilities”, our weaknesses to be both manipulated, and inspired, by emotional stories of greatness and aspiration. And the way in which political leaders and journalists, in particular, can appeal to these vulnerabilities.

Paul also suggested that we “think of story as a verb. We have choices; we are all ‘story-ing’ our lives.” For an organization looking to effect change, this would mean asking, in this order:
• What is the ending for which we are striving?
• How did we start?
• Where are we now?
• How can we get to the desired ending?

I’ve written in the past about my use of the basic story framework – beginning, middle, and end – to make decisions and find my way out of complex situations. When agitated, I will often ask myself, How do I want this story to end? This enables me to focus on the goal and take control over the situation. Once I articulate where I want to be and what is happening, I ask, How can I make that happen?

Having spent decades working on peace and reconciliation in both Ireland and the Middle East, as well as analyzing the memes of the last American Presidential race, Paul is expert in seizing opportunities to tell a new narrative. He advises people looking to change the accepted narrative or narrative to “find the space for retelling of the unique stories.” Where is there room for a new story? Where might there be a narrative vulnerability on which you can hook your new narrative?

And, short of finding the space in which to create an entirely new narrative, perhaps there is the glimmer an existing story that you can nurture. Perhaps you, your organization, or your issue can find a place in a different story. Creating a new narrative can result from “feeding a story you want to grow and starving the other” destructive narrative.