The Real Thing

People love a good reason to celebrate (see Cubs victory this week; it shouldn't be hard, it's the only thing everyone's been talking about since Wednesday night.).

Even more than that, people love to talk about what they've seen and celebrated—it's something that defines us as humans, being able to chronicle what we've done and been through. It goes back to the very beginning of time. Before people just wrote things down or took a picture, civilization passed down story from generation to generation, to preserve the history of who they'd become out of who they'd been. It comes from the deep desire to know and be known, and it is who we are.

Now, it's different. It's the wireless age, and we share where we are and what we're doing immediately. While this is an amazing way to communicate and share information, it's also harder to remember to experience the real thing first hand. It's important to feel the real-ness of life, because while the virtual can be pretty amazing, the real is, well. Real. And nothing is as good as experiencing real life while it's happening.

So take pictures, and videos, and write things down. All of that is great.

But also hold your phone out to the side, or over your head, or right up close to your chest, and watch what happens with your eyes—because no one else's picture or video or blog or article can tell the story of what you saw quite like you can, with your mouth and your expressions and your hand motions.

Go Cubs, Go

All of Chicago stayed awake till the small hours of the morning last night, nail-biting, rocking back and forth on seats and couches and stadium chairs, shivering in the cold outside of Wrigley Field, being hurled from the heights of delight to the depths of woe, watching pitch after agonizing pitch of one of the closest and most torturous games that's been in the World Series. Ever (there are likely statistics to refine or contest the truth of this statement, but if you don't believe me, just ask anyone who saw the game). And after all the tension, and drama, and a 17 minute rain delay that gave everyone (by which I mean the Cubs) time to refocus and regroup, and an extra inning that turned plenty of heads gray, the Cubs won.

Chicago went wild.

History in the making, and that is all I have to say about that.

How to Be a Better Storyteller

A bad storyteller could tell a crowd the most exciting news piece of the year (the breaking of a 108 'curse,' for instance), and put his audience to sleep. A good storyteller could talk about a trip to buy a package of napkins, and hold his audience's rapt attention. It isn't the story that makes the story good, worth reading, interesting; it's the storyteller. When he starts to tell a story, he resumes the responsibility to guide, to entertain, to make the audience feel like they didn't waste their time.

In light of that responsibility, how do you become a better storyteller?

#) Practice. It's the number one advice for getting better at everything. You don't get better unless you try. Trying takes time. Practice telling your story—develop your craft. Try different words different places, use bold expressions, make dramatic story-telling moves that you're scared of. Tell your story in the mirror. Tell it to your mom (and then someone who loves you a little less, for more critical feedback), tell it in the dark, tell it to the flock of birds at the pond. The more you do it, the better you'll be.

#) Watch/read/listen to other people. It's hard to develop a craft well in complete solitude. The lucky thing about developing your art is that sharing is allowed. If someone else does something that you admire, that's completely brilliant, try it. Tweak it, change it, make it yours, but don't be afraid to grow by imitation. Other people come up with amazing strategies. Using them isn't wrong—it's like adding a tool to your tool-chest.

#) Say what matters. In this busy, flustered, over-worked and under-rested society, people only want to listen to things that matter to them. If they don't see any reason to listen to what you're saying, they won't listen. Think about what people want to hear, think about what matters to them. They want to hear virtue, kindness, human triumph through herculean struggle. They want to hear stories that make them cry, or roar with laughter, stories that end with a warm feeling all over, or the bright resolve to be a change in the world, to make a difference.

#) Pay attention to your audience. If they're not paying attention, or you're not getting any feedback, if 7 of the 12 people are sleeping, maybe it's time to reconsider how you're telling your story, and change things up.

Being a storyteller is a privilege; being a good storyteller is a gift. Appreciate the privilege and the gift, and do your best to be better. The world could use more of those people (us).