MONDAY'S MUSINGS: THE MORAL OF THE STORY IS...

Long, long ago...

The oral tradition of storytelling is the one of the oldest traditions of civilization. Storytellers were not just entertainers, but teachers and historians. Some stories were based on actual historical events some were complete flights of the imagination and designed to teach—perhaps a moral, or teach the listeners critical thinking and sound decision making. Stories also reminded the listeners of bygone lessons from history, religion, and lessons of everyday life. Stories were guides to planting, hunting, fishing, and creating things for the community.

Then there were the legends or myths. They were designed to explain the unexplainable like creation, how land was formed, how the oceans stayed in their boundaries, how thunder came about, or lightning happened. There weren’t any scientists so people used things of their world—personifying animals or creating superhuman heroes doing great deeds to give an explanation. At the heart these heroes produced good results for the community but usually at great cost. These legendary stories encouraged the listeners to think and figure out how to do things or make sense of what was unknown to them and to appreciate sacred things. Many legends held subtle morals on what would happen if one person, or group of people, stepped away from what they held sacred and that one’s actions could affect the community for years to come.

There are many oral legends told around the world. Some have been captured in written word. The authors wrote down the oral tales of generations past and perhaps added their embellishments to fit the new audience. Think Homer—these weren’t new tales but a retelling of the old. Aesop’s tales and the brothers Grim. All tales retold from ancient times. Entertaining tales but with instruction at the heart of the story.

Many Native American tribes still have tales from old. On the surface they entertained, but below the surface were lessons to be learned. I’ll share one with you.

Medicine Bear

“Long, long ago, in the beginning times, bear was a great healer. He knew all the plants, roots, and barks that would cure sickness and heal injuries. Bear was the first medicine man. The people honored and respected Bear. 

Ah, but then came the summer of little rain. The crops did not grow and the rivers and streams were drying and there were no fish. The game animals were scarce 

In their hunger, the people abandoned their sacred ways and hunted bear for food. But, when they tried to cook him, his ashes went into the sky and became mosquitoes.”

The legend explained the unexplainable—how mosquitoes came about. The storyteller who thought it up as a parable, had great imagination and wisdom, and knew how to tell the tale so the lessons would be remembered.  It does entertain but there are lessons below the surface of the tale.  When we abandon our beliefs and turn our backs on what we hold sacred, no good will become of it.  

The tale also reminded the listeners the consequences of their actions could be felt for generations to come. You can bet every time a mosquito bit the listener they would remember the rest of the tale and why pesky mosquitoes were around.

wiki-commons

One of my favorite tales from Aesop’s tales is the dog and the bone. It makes you laugh and so it entertains, but the underlying lesson is all about being content with what one has and how foolish it is to desire more. Another lesson is about coveting (craving what belongs to another) what others have.

Many hurtful consequences come from such a desire and when you lose sight of what is important in your own life. Like the foolish dog, you often lose it all.

• Do you have a favorite fable or tale? What do you like about it?

The Art Of Storytelling

We’re writers. Storytelling for us is like breathing. Storytelling is as old as time. Oral storytelling is a long-standing art of most cultures. Much of it set to some form of music or through use of rhythms in word formation or a drum to remember the stories. I’m sure some of the stories were a way of sharing lessons learned, but I’m equally sure, making up stories were also a form of entertainment told around the cook fire. A way to also share the activities of the day and connect.

Storytelling hasn’t changed all that much. We observe something in life that catches our interest. Maybe it’s something we’ve discovered through research, or something we’ve lived, or people watching, a snatch of a song, or a movie or show. As storytellers we take those observations, experiences, or snippets of life and give them emotions, setting, and an ending—sometimes happy sometimes not. It’s a way to take our experiences and knowledge and connect emotionally with our audience, the reader and ourselves. Our own campfire tales.

I read an interesting article not long ago, in The Scientist, about the Science Of Storytelling. The title caught my eye. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I started reading it and it wasn’t what I thought it would be but it was interesting.

The gist of it was science is a story about ideas and lessons learned. Not all that different from the stories around the cook fire or in a shaman’s circle. Scientists tell their stories via published papers and books, which has little or no narrative or personal thoughts.

A non-profit organization, The Moth, sponsored an event at the World Science Festival, called Matter: Stories of Atoms and Eves, and the point of this storytelling session is each story of the event had to be true, short, and told without notes. Not easy for a scientist trained to tell the facts and nothing but the facts and removing any personal feelings from the information. Each of the participants shared their knowledge but from a personal standpoint designed to connect with the audience and perhaps show the passion they felt towards their area of study.

As writers and storytellers we know how to craft and tell a story, not so easy for the uninitiated as one participant, Irene Pepperberg, noted. “It was quite the effort trying to get a 40 minute presentation into 10 minutes.” She gamely shared the unique difficulties and excitement of working with her research subject and “colleague,” Alex the African Grey parrot. In 2007 Alex died and she said, “I realized I'd lost the most important being in my life for the last thirty years.”

Each of the highly regarded participants told their stories. It was actually very fascinating to read the stories and then look at the body of research behind them. For that night, they were storytellers and connected with a rapt audience of over 250 people. Well-respected “elders” sharing their experiences around the cook fire, so to speak.

The thought of “elders” isn’t that far removed in light of what The Moth’s executive and creative director, Lea Thau, said of the evening. “I was extremely moved by the evening. When you have someone who's contributed as much to the world as these people have, it adds a bit of gravitas, and we're all in awe. But the thing I love about storytelling is that it levels the playing field.”

Really, the art of storytelling, on one level or another, is merely tales around the cook fire or the dinner table. A way of connecting, sharing, and entertaining.

Do you think the art of storytelling has changed? Any thoughts?
















This week I will be attending Romance Times Convention in Columbus, Ohio. I will be having some interesting reports, interviews, and a few intriguing pictures you're sure to enjoy.

Have a great week!

Experiences With Writing And Critiques

~Sia McKye~

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."
~Eleanor Roosevelt



I work hard as a writer. I write everyday. Journals, articles for various publications, and on the books I’m readying for publication. I enjoy writing. I like the creativity of choosing the right words for something, or picking a great introduction for the authors I promote.

I was lucky, I suppose, in that I’ve always been encouraged to explore my creative side for as far back as I can remember. I have oral storytellers in my family. There’s a tradition and a style with telling oral stories as opposed to writing the stories out. A different emphasis and description choices—part of it is in the sound of the words, the tone and voice inflections used, and the flow is a bit different. Certain words are used as a memory points.

As a kid, my siblings and I would entertain us with stories. Sometimes we’d do a round robin sort of thing where each would take over the story at a certain point and continue it. Some we wrote down some we didn’t. As I was the family chronicler guess who did most of the writing? We created elaborate ‘let’s pretend’ scenarios and then play them out either that day or over the course of a week or so. It was always fun.

In school, all my writing projects were partly creative in writing style. It didn’t matter if it was a science project if words were used I was creative—I could never just slap words on the paper. As you can imagine, History and English projects received the most attention from me. I had teachers encouraging me to pursue creative writing—especially English teachers. “Why aren’t you writing stories? You have a gift you should pursue it.” In second grade I won my first writing contest and over years won others with stories that were published in Weekly Readers and various other school sponsored things. While it was fun and I enjoyed it, I was also looking at other things I wanted to do or to be. Career choices were based on a certain amount of creativity, radio, newspaper, and promotion. The career choices got in the way of serious writing although I was always scribbling something—poems, family history; you should see some of my journals. I’d see something interesting and create a snippet of a story around it, or rewrite the romances of those in my family that were unfortunate enough to breakup or divorce. I got into a bit of hot water over a few of them, I can tell you.

My sister and I discovered Harlequin romances. They were so simple yet were entertaining. We figured, well heck, we could write romances just as good as what we were reading. We did, too. Today we were visiting and talk turned to some of our attempts. I pulled out some of our earlier efforts and oh how we laughed. Some were just awful full of passive voice and lots of exposition. We picked out phrases and descriptions and laughed ourselves silly. There were a few that actually were promising and only needed some editing and critiques. We just never had anyone to show those stories to that could do that.

When I got serious about my writing, and wrote my first novel, I made a cazillion mistakes. I was such a newbie. What saved me was entering a contest and in the course of that contest, I came into contact with real creative writers. That was my real prize—feedback and serious critiques, that and learning terms. What the hell did they mean when writers and judges would say ‘good bones’ and ‘need to work on POV’? Keep in mind, I hadn’t taken any writing courses in at least ten years and fiction-writing styles had changed considerably in that time. I didn’t win the contest (which was a romance writing contest where you also received critiques from other writers and contestants) although I finished in the top 20% out of about 1200 entries. Not bad, considering the mistakes I made.

I like to receive honest critiques. If something isn’t working, I’d like to know that. I take my work seriously. I don’t hand my work to just anyone. I tend to pick those who know what they’re doing, whose opinion I value, and who write the same genre or similar genre. I like suggestions, questions, and I also love it when someone reads something that they really like or makes them laugh and they mention it. The contest taught me the need for a tough skin, which was reinforced by the first serious critique of my manuscript.



The poor thing about bled to death with all the red lining. CPR was difficult but it survived and so did I. But you know what? She was right. She wasn’t harsh, but she was to the point and honest. She’s a published author and one for whom I have a great deal of respect.

I’ve always said if you want someone to tell you your writing is wonderful, hand it to your family or your mother. I call that blowing sunshine and butterflies. You want honesty then give it to a fellow writer you respect. And then listen to what they say. Give yourself think about it a bit—once you get over the shock.

When I critique, I’m never brutal or critique to hurt. I don’t believe in destructive critiques at all. There’s no point to them. Constructive critiques improve your writing or style. That’s what we want, suggestions or pointers on how to make the story stronger, make the characters more realistic, or how to plug those holes in our manuscript big enough to drive a Mack truck through.

I’ve learned a lot about what works and what doesn’t and why, by doing critiques. Contest entries were quite an eye opener. Not just in just what I could see, but by reading the comments made by others which trained my eye both in what was being critiqued and how to look at my work with a more critical eye.

If someone is really bad…that’s a harder one. I’ve read a few that were really bad. Should they scrap it and start anew—oh, absolutely. I look for the good things that are working and I usually ask questions to see if they’re serious about writing or this piece or just playing at writing. I might say, this is a good idea but the way you’re presenting it hides the idea. Have you thought about…? I ask questions, why, what, where, and how.

I may have been writing all my life and won contests but that doesn’t make me a great writer. Critiques do that and the willingness to listen and learn. A willingness to sharpen your craft and be willing to put your manuscript on a strict diet to trim away the excess fat so you can see those great bones in your writing.

What has been your writing experience? How do you feel about critiques? What have you learned?

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Sia McKye has spent over twenty years in marketing and promotion. She's written and published various articles on writing, marketing, and promotion. She's a Marketing Rep by profession and also writes fiction.

Sia is married to a spitzy Italian. She has a ranch out beyond the back 40 where she raises kids, dogs, horses, cats, and has been known to raise a bit of hell now and then. Aside from conducting various writing discussions and doing numerous guest blogging engagements, each week she promote and share authors’ stories, on the laughter, glitches, triumphs, and fun that writers and authors face in pursuit of their ambition to write—Over Coffee