I was in Lisbon when the total blackout hit the Iberian Pennisula, removing power from all of Spain and Portugal for the better part of a hot April day. This was interesting! Nothing like this had ever happened to me. Of course I would write about it.
I made notes that day and night to capture the sensual experiences of being without phone or light or access to my rented apartment. I wrote a draft of the story back in Denver.
But then I blundered into territory my clients and I always stumble into. I was three pages into telling the details of the blackout – trams stalled in the streets, all shops dark and locked, no cell phone access at all. Three pages in and still was not even close to getting to why this mattered.
What went wrong? We all think our stories are good – and they are! These tales are interesting to us, but are likely only mildly interesting to a reader. I’ve identified the problem. It’s a case of anecdote versus story. Here’s an example.
Anecdote versus story or boring versus life-changing
Anecdote: On the way here, I saw a performing monkey! It grabbed my beret and put it on and played the accordion! It was so funny!
Story: On the way here, a performing monkey grabbed my beret and played a song on the accordion. The song was the one I always have in my head when I think of my French life. All this time I had been in love with France, thinking the song and the beret made me more French. But my facade was easily taken on by a street monkey. I had never felt so cheap and superficial in my life. Now I question the things I love – am I such a cliche? Or was the song a sign? Did my beret hold the song about Paris but also all my hopes and dreams?
Do you see the difference? A story has a deeper meaning, something more important to the narrator than ‘isn’t that funny?’
We tell anecdotes to fill time and space and share an experience we had. We write stories to understand something on a deeper level and to convey some meaning to the reader. As writers, we have to work to excavate the meaning.
The blackout story was just an anecdote. Until I dug deeper for a reason to tell this story, it wasn’t worth continuing. I was bored adding up all the ‘and then this happened’. (If you get bored writing, chances are your reader will be bored reading.) I didn’t have the bandwidth to really delve in to discover what matters, why it matters to me, and how it might matter to you, the reader.
People telling anecdotes mostly just want someone to hear their story. People writing stories want to move the reader with a new insight, feeling, or idea. They want to be moved themselves.
If you are stuck in anecdote territory, wondering if it’s interesting to a reader, dig deeper.
Three ways to make sure your stories aren’t boring
Check into your values. What is meaningful for you in this story? I couldn’t find many of my values honored in the blackout story. But the piece about speaking Portuguese while in Lisbon? I had at least 8 values in that story. Writing it felt alive and meaningful.
WAIT. After you’ve pecked at the story a bit, take a break. Ask yourself Why Am I Telling this story? Why does it matter to you?
Who cares? When we get stuck, we often think, who will find this interesting? Who cares? If you know who you are writing for – and you should – it will be easier to know if your reader will care and if so, what they will get from this.
What do you want for the reader? Why MUST they read this story?
When drafting my novel, I had to cut many major chapters. Whole sections! I loved these scenes. But they were merely interesting, not essential to the novel. Editing skills are as important as drafting skills.
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I hope this has helped you to improve your storytelling skills. Please let me know what this illuminated for you in a comment below.