Captivating is a pretty strong word, and as such, it’s probably something that we want
to strive for in our interactions.
When we think of a captivating person, what kind of mental image comes to mind?
If you were to choose a picture for a “captivating person” in a dictionary, what would the
person be?
What is this person expressing, how are they acting, and what are you watching them do?
More often than not, this person is going to look like they are on a stage or pulpit
gesticulating grandly and expressively, with an emotion-filled face.
And I would also bet that this person is in the middle of weaving an engrossing tale that
captivates his or her audience.
Indeed, if you think about it, it seems that only with storytelling can we mesmerize and
charm others into hanging on to our every word.
Okay, that’s up for debate, but determining whether or not that is true is not the aim
of this chapter.
No one can deny that storytelling is an important element of memorable conversations and discussions
that you want to have.
The question is always how to capture this elusive skill and make it your own.
Therefore, in this chapter, I want to present a few perspectives on how you can use storytelling
in your everyday conversations and even small talk.
It’s helpful to first take the mystique away from the whole concept of storytelling.
What is storytelling?
It’s just telling someone about something that happened.
That’s all.
Of course, there are better and worse ways to do this, but at the core, storytelling
is just talking about the past in a way that makes people pay attention.
The first part we have no problem with—we’ve all described our pasts, and we all have great
experiences worthy of being told—but the second part is typically the challenge.
With that in mind, let’s see how we can get better at storytelling.
A Life of Stories
To get better at stories, we have to begin to recognize them in our daily lives.
No, seriously.
We don’t think of our lives as being very interesting on a day-to-day basis, but we
do quite a bit more than we realize.
It’s not that every day you are engaging in a massive protest that you can tell your
kids about, or you were chased by a wiener dog down a dark alley whereupon a man dressed
as a parrot saved you by tackling the dog.
These stories are self-evident and don’t need any organization or special way of telling
them to make an impact.
We have to draw from our daily lives, and believe me, there is plenty to draw from.
It’s just a matter of seeing the mini-stories that are inherent in our everyday existence.
What is the definition of a mini-story in this context?
“So what do you do?”
“I’m a marketing executive.”
Well, not that.
That’s going to get a reply of "Oh, cool.
I’m going to the bathroom now, goodbye."
Let’s try again.
“So what do you do?”
“I’m a marketing executive.
I deal mostly with clients.
Just last week we had a crazy client that threatened to send his bodyguards to our office!
I definitely wish I dealt more with the creative side.”
There we go.
This will probably garner a stronger response than wanting to escape to the bathroom, such
as “Oh my God!
Did he actually send them?
TELL ME MORE.
”
That’s a mini-story.
It’s answering questions (or spontaneously sharing) briefly using the elements of a story—an
action that occurs to a subject with some sort of conclusion.
As you can see above, a brief mini-story will create exponentially more conversation and
interest than any answer to the question, “What do you do?"
All you needed was three sentences.
Try reading it out loud—it takes less than ten seconds, and you’ve jam-packed it with
enough information to be interesting to anyone.
What’s great about mini-stories is you can also create these before a conversation, so
you can have compelling anecdotes at hand in response to very common and widespread
questions.
The main benefit to creating mini-stories ahead of time is to be able to avoid one-word
answers that you may be accustomed to using.
This can give a sense of confidence going in, because you’ve prepared for what will
come.
When you break down the context surrounding a mini-story, they become much simpler.
Shoot for three sentences that can answer some of the most common conversation topics
that will arise.
1.
Your occupation (if you have a job that is unusual or nebulous, make sure you have a
layman’s description of your job that people can relate to)
2.
Your week
3.
Your upcoming weekend
4.
Your hometown
5.
Your hobbies and so on.
When you are using a mini-story to answer a question, make sure to first acknowledge
the question that was asked.
But then, realizing that you have something far more interesting to say, you can jump
into the mini-story, which should be able to stand by itself.
“How was your weekend?”
“It was fine.
I watched four Star Wars movies.”
“Okay, I’m going to go talk to someone else now.”
Let’s try again.
“How was your weekend?”
“It was fine, but did I tell you about what happened last Friday?
A dog wearing a tuxedo walked into my office and he peed on everything.”
“Wait.
Tell me more.”
Using mini-stories allows you to avoid the tired back of forth of “Good, how about
you” you’ll find in everyday small talk.
That’s the first step to being captivating.
It might help to reframe mini-stories this way - when people make small talk with you
and ask any of the classic small-talk questions, they aren’t truly interested in the answers
to those questions.
They want to hear something interesting, so give it to them.
This is an important point to repeat - when we ask how someone’s weekend was, or what
people’s travel plans are, we usually aren’t that interested in the literal answer.
We’ve already talked about how you should disclose and divulge more about yourself in
an effort to find more similarities, and now you can see another benefit of offering more.
Not only that, mini-stories are an inside view to the way you think and feel.
They give clues to your mindset, personality, and emotional leanings.
Learning about those aspects is the first step in allowing anyone to relate and feel
connected to you, so it’s imperative that you learn how to take any question and expand
it to your advantage.
It will also encourage them to reciprocate.
Mini-stories also underscore the importance of providing more details, as mentioned in
an earlier chapter, and avoiding one-word answers.
Details offer a three-dimensional description of you and your life.
That automatically makes people more interested and invested because they are already painting
a mental picture in their minds and visualizing everything.
Details also give people more to connect to, think about, and attach themselves to.
With more details, there is a substantially higher likelihood that people will find something
funny, interesting, in common, poignant, curious, and worthy of comment in what you have to
say.
Detail and specificity put people into a particular place and time.
This allows them to imagine exactly what’s happening and start caring about it.
Think about why it’s so easy to get sucked into a movie.
We experience enormous sensory stimulation and almost can’t escape all of the visual
and auditory detail, which is designed to make us invested.
Detailed stories and conversations are inviting others to share a mental movie with you.
Beyond giving flavor to your conversation and storytelling, and giving the other person
something to ask about, details are important because they elicit emotional engagement.
Details remind people of their own lives and memories and make them feel more drawn to
whatever is presenting them.
Details can compel others to laugh, feel mad, feel sad, or feel surprise.
They can control moods and emotions.
If you include details about specific songs that played during your high school dances,
it’s likely that someone will have memories attached to those songs and become more emotionally
interested in your story.
Share details about all the figurative nooks and crannies, because that’s what makes
you interesting on an emotional level.
The 1 -1 -1 Method
On the theme of simplifying storytelling, we’ve been talking about how we can use
a mini-story in many ways.
You may be wondering what the difference is between a mini story and a full-fledged story.
For our purposes, not much.
It seems that many people like to complicate storytelling as if they were composing an
impromptu Greek tragedy.
Does there have to be an introduction, middle, struggle, then resolution?
Does there need to be a hero, a conflict, and an emotional journey?
Not necessarily.
Those are specific ways of storytelling if you are Francis Ford Coppola (director of
the Godfather series) or a standup comedian used to keeping crowds engaged.
But certainly these aren’t the easiest or most practical ways to think about storytelling.
My method of storytelling in conversation is to prioritize the discussion afterward.
This means that the story itself doesn’t need to be that in-depth or long.
It can and should contain specific details that people can relate to and latch on to,
but it doesn’t need to have parts or stages.
A full story can be mini by nature.
That’s why it’s called the 1 -1 -1 method.
This method stands for a story that (1) has one action, (2) can be summed up in one sentence,
and (3) evokes one primary emotion in the listener.
You can see why they’re short and snappy.
They also tend to ensure that you know your point before starting and have a very low
chance of verbally wandering for minutes and alienating your listeners.
This is the lowest input to the highest output ratio you can have for a story.
For a story to consist of one action means only one thing is happening.
The story is about one occurrence, one event.
It should be direct and straightforward.
Anything else just confuses the point and makes you liable to ramble.
Details are important to share, but probably not at the outset because the story’s impact
will be lost or blunted.
A story should be able to be summed up in one sentence because, otherwise, you are trying
to convey too much.
It keeps you focused and straight to the point.
This step actually takes practice, because you are forced to think about which aspects
of the story matter and which don’t add anything to your action.
It’s a skill to be able to distill your thoughts into one sentence and still be thorough—often,
you won’t realize what you want to say unless you can do this.
Finally, a story should focus on one primary emotion to be evoked in the listener.
And you should be able to name it!
Keep in mind that evoking an emotion ensures that your story actually has a point, and
it will color what details you carefully choose to emphasize that emotion.
For our purposes here, there really aren’t that many emotions you might want to draw
out in others from a story.
You might have humor, shock, awe, envy, happiness, anger, or annoyance.
Those are the majority of reasons we relate our experiences to others.
Keep in mind that this is just my method for conveying my experiences to others.
My logic is that whether people hear two sentences about a dog attack or they hear ten sentences
doesn’t change the impact of the story.
Telling a story about your friend going to jail—well, he’s still in jail at the end
of two or ten sentences.
Likewise, if you tell a story about how you adopted a dog, the dog will still be lounging
on your bed if you take ten seconds or two minutes to tell the story.
After you provide the premise, the conversation can move forward as a dialogue, your conversation
partner can participate more fully, and we can then focus on the listener’s impact
and reaction.
Then you can let the inevitable questions flow, and you can slowly divulge the details
after the context is set, and the initial impact is felt.
So what does this so-called story sound like?
“I was attacked by a dog and I was so frightened I nearly wet my pants."
It’s one sentence, there is one action, and the bit about wetting the pants is to
emphasize the fact that the emotion you want to convey is fear and shock.
You could include more detail about the dog and the circumstances, but chances are people
are going to ask about that immediately, so let them guide what they want to hear about
your story.
It doesn’t hurt to directly name the emotion that you were experiencing.
Invite them to participate!
Very few people want to sit and listen to a monologue, most of which is told poorly
and in a scattered manner.
Therefore, keep the essentials but cut your story short, and let the conversation continue
as a shared experience rather than you monopolizing the airspace.
Here are another couple of easy examples -
“Last week, I had a job interview that went so poorly I had the interviewer laugh at me
while I was leaving the office, it was so embarrassing."
One action, one emotion, in one sentence.
“When I first met Joshua, I spilled a bowl of baked beans all over his white pants and
I think the entire room was watching while this happened.”
The 1 -1 -1 method can be summed up as starting a story as close to the end as possible.
Most stories end before they get to the end, in terms of impact on the listener, their
attention span, and the energy that you have to tell it.
In other words, many stories tend to drone on because people try to adhere to complex
rules or because they simply lose the plot and are trying to find it again through talking.
Above all else, a long preamble is not necessary.
What’s important is that people pay attention, care, and will react in some (preferably)
emotional manner.
The Story Spine
Think of the story spine as an upgraded and expanded version of the 1 -1 -1 method.
It gives you the beats of a great story in a simple formula.
This technique can be credited to Kevin Adams, author and the artistic director of Synergy
Theater.
He teaches how the “story spine” can be used to outline a great story.
This method is perfect for novelists and film makers, but you can also use it whenever you
want to entertain friends with a tale that will have them riveted.
Likewise, it can tell you why certain stories completely fall flat, since it shows you what
crucial elements may be missing.
It can be done quickly and, with practice, may start feeling automatic.
The story spine has eight elements; here’s how they go -
Once upon a time…
The start of the story.
Here, you must set the context and lay out the world you’re talking about and the characters
you’ll be focusing on.
You establish their routine, normal reality.
If you skip this part your story may seem inconsequential, or people won’t be able
to make sense of the events that follow and why they matter.
Every day…
More establishing of the normal and routine.
Often, a character is growing bored, sad or curious, and this drives the next stages of
the story.
This step builds tension, and is the place you give your characters a personality and
a motive for what happens next.
But one day…
And here comes the big event that changes everything!
One day, something different happens that completely turns your character’s world
around.
A stranger comes to town or a mysterious clue shows up.
Because of that…
There are consequences.
The main character acts in response, and this sets into motion the main body of the story,
the “what happened” part.
Many poor storytellers will simply leap in and begin here, failing to build tension or
set any context, and then discover that their audience isn’t as invested in the outcome.
Like good conversation skills, good storytelling skills require pacing and gradual building
of tension.
Because of that…
Things get more interesting or frightening, the stakes are raised, the plot thickens,
other characters enter and a whole world of complications/comedy/drama opens up as the
story plays out.
Because of that…
Good stories appeal to our love for the number three in our narratives.
That’s why we have Goldilocks and the three bears, and why the hero typically faces three
challenges before finally making it.
Take the time to really explore the three dilemmas the character faces, and you make
the resolution that much sweeter.
Until finally…
Does the guy get the girl?
Was the world saved or did the detective find out who did it?
Here’s where you reveal all.
The conflict is resolved, and the story is wrapped up.
And ever since then…
You close the story as you began it—with some context.
You outline here what the new normal is, given the character’s success or failure at the
previous step.
You could consider a moral of the story here, or a little joke or punchline.
In conversation, this tells people you’re done with your story and signals them to respond.
What’s important to remember about a story spine is that it’s just that—a spine.
You still need to add considerable flesh to the outline to make it compelling.
The story spine merely makes sure you’re hitting the right notes in the right order,
and gives you a satisfying structure to follow.
Not every story will follow it exactly (it’s only a rough outline, after all) but if yours
do, there’s a good chance they’ll be better received than narratives that are a bit more
experimental.
As an example, consider the popular theme song for the ’80s TV show The Fresh Prince
of Bel-Air.
This shows that even in a quick story, it’s important to have the essential building blocks.
The song starts -
In west Philadelphia born and raised
On the playground is where I spent most of my days
Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool
And all shootin' some b-ball outside of the school
This covers “once upon a time” and “every day."
Context established.
When a couple of guys who were up to no good
Started makin' trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one little fight and my mom scared
And said you're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air
Here’s the “but one day” part that changes everything.
I begged and pleaded with her day after day
But she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way… etc.
The middle portion of the song covers him begging with his mom not to go, getting on
a plane to Bel-Air and then taking a cab, while slowly grasping the whole new world
he’s just walked into.
This is the middle of the story, the three “and because of that” portions.
The final verse goes -
I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabbie yo homes smell ya later
Looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air
“And finally” and “since then” are rolled into one here, and the new normal is
established, with the main character happily set up in his new life.
Granted, there isn’t too much conflict or tension here, but the structure is sound.
Consider someone using the story spine in a more everyday context - a dispute at work.
Someone is trying to explain what’s happened clearly to an external mediator.
Their story sounds like this -
“Melissa and Jake both work in the IT department, they run things together with Barbara, who’s
now on maternity leave.
Melissa’s been with the company for more than ten years, and Jake is new, so Melissa
has been informally training him to cover Barbara’s work for the next six months,
possibly longer term (there are rumors Jake will get Barbara’s job if she leaves).
They’ve been working on a big project together for the last month.
“Unknown to us, Melissa and Jake had a brief relationship months back that ended badly.
“Because of that there’s been some tension in the office.
There was a crucial mistake on the big project and Melissa was held accountable.
But she’s since revealed to us that it was in fact Jake’s fault, and she had covered
for him while they were still in a relationship.
Because of this, Jake is claiming that Melissa is only blaming him now because they are no
longer in a relationship, which he believes is unfair.
“Eventually, Barbara contacted the office to let them know she wasn’t returning, a
condition Mark assumed would solidify his role in the office.
But now there’s a big conflict as both Melissa and Jake can barely stand to work together.”
In this story, the mediator is hearing the final stages, but the “and ever since”
part is yet to be decided.
Can you see the steps, and how leaving any of them out or mixing them up might have made
for a more confusing story?
Consider the box office hit Avatar, and how it follows the story spine -
Once upon a time there was a paraplegic Marine called Jake Sully with a traumatic past, who
was just getting by in life.
Every day he mourned the tragic death of his brilliant and talented brother.
But one day, he gets the opportunity to join a mission to distant moon Pandora.
Because of that, he is promised surgery that will allow him to walk again in exchange for
gathering info on the species that lives on the planet, the Na’Vi.
Because of that, he spends more time with them, eventually developing a real love for
their world as well as for the beautiful Neytiri.
Because of that love, he is unable to take part in the (soon-to-be-discovered) exploitative
nature of the expedition, until finally, a full-blown war breaks out between humans and
the Na’Vi.
Finally, the battle is won, and Pandora is saved.
And ever since then, Jake has lived in peace on Pandora.
Naturally, there are many details and elements missing here, but the spine is intact and
is partly responsible for a story that is engaging and plays out in a way the audience
expects.
The story spine applies to any kind of story or narrative, written, spoken or cinematic,
big or small.
The fundamentals, once in place, can be reworked in literally endless ways.
Inside Stories
In any conversation, there is a high point.
There might be multiple memorable points, but by definition, one part is the best and
highest.
This can take many different forms.
You can share a big laugh.
You can both get emotional and cry.
You share a strong perspective on an issue that no one else does.
You witness something either horrifying or hilarious together.
You both struggle not to laugh when you observe something.
You finish each other’s sentences.
Most of the time, if you do it correctly, your stories become high points because of
the emotional impact and pure intrigue you can use them to create.
This makes it easy because you are planting the seed of connection for you to harvest
later.
Coincidentally, calling back to this high point later is what a deconstructed inside
joke looks like.
Therefore, to easily create an inside joke, all you have to do is refer to the high point
later in the conversation.
Take note of it and put it in your pocket for use in the near future.
Don’t let it go sour like month-old milk that you’re afraid to throw away because
of the smell.
Assuming that you told a good story or elicited a good story earlier in the conversation,
all you need to do is refer to it in the context of your current topic.
For example, you told a story about your favorite kind of dog earlier in the conversation.
There was a high point about comparing yourself to a wiener dog because your shape makes it
unavoidable.
Now your current topic of conversation is fashion, personal style and different types
of jackets.
How do you call back to the wiener dog high point by referring to it in the context of
jackets?
“Yeah, unfortunately, I can’t wear that type of jacket because I’m mostly similar
to the wiener dog, remember?”
Bring up the first topic, hopefully the topic of your story, and then use it in the current
subject.
You are repeating the old topic in a new context, and this tends to be better received, even
if it wasn’t funny the first time.
And the best part is that you can keep doing this with the same thing to create an even
stronger unique bond (inside joke!).
Listen for something funny or notable that you would classify as a conversational high
point.
Keep it in your pocket.
Wait like a cheetah in the tall grass of the savannah to see a different context or topic
you can repeat it in.
And then unleash it.
Here’s another example.
Prior conversational high point - a story about hating parking lots.
Current topic of conversation - the weather.
Callback - Yeah, the rain will definitely be welcome when we can’t find parking spots
within ten blocks of our apartment.
And here’s one more -
Prior conversational high point - a story about loving donuts.
Current topic of conversation - hating work.
Callback - Well what if your office provided free donuts?
How many would you need to change your opinion of work?
In the same way an orchestra conductor can hit the same high musical motif through different
arrangements and songs, you can keep referring to this conversation high point.
Voila, you’ve just created an inside joke from thin air.
Ask for Stories
Most of the focus with stories is usually on telling them—but what about soliciting
them from others and allowing them to feel as good as you do when a story lands well?
What about stepping aside and giving other people the spotlight (an underrated skill
in conversation and life in general)?
Well, it’s just a matter of how you ask for other’s stories.
There are ways to make people gab for hours, and approaches where people will feel compelled
to give a terse one-word answer.
For instance, when you watch sports, one of the most illogical parts is the post-game
or post-match interview.
These athletes are still caught in the throes of adrenaline, out of breath, and occasionally
drip sweat onto the reporters.
It’s not a situation conducive to good stories, or even answers.
Yet when you are watching a broadcaster interview an athlete, does anything odd strike you about
the questions they ask?
The interviewers are put into an impossible situation and usually walk away with decent
soundbites—at the very least, not audio disasters.
Their duty is to elicit a coherent answer from someone who is mentally incoherent at
the moment.
How do they do that?
They’ll ask questions like “So tell me about that moment in the second quarter.
What did you feel about it and how did the coach turn it around then?”
as opposed to “How’d you guys win?” or “How did you turn this match around,
come back, and pull out all the stops to grab the victory at the very end?”
as opposed to “How was the comeback?”
The key?
They ask for a story rather than an answer.
They phrase their inquiry in a way that can only be answered with a story, in fact.
Reporters provide the athletes with detail, context, and boundaries to set them up to
talk as much as possible instead of providing a breathless one-word answer.
It’s almost as if they provide the athletes with an outline of what they want to hear
and how they can proceed.
They make it easy for them to tell a story and simply engage.
It’s like if someone asks you a question but, in the question, tells you exactly what
they want to hear as hints.
Sometimes we think we are doing the heavy lifting in a conversation and the other party
isn’t giving us much to work with.
But that’s an excuse that obscures the fact we aren’t making it easy for them.
They might not be giving you much, but you also might be asking them the wrong questions,
which is leading them to provide terrible responses.
In fact, if you think you are shouldering the burden, you are definitely asking the
wrong questions.
Conversation can be much more pleasant for everyone involved if you provide fertile ground
for people to work in.
Don’t set the other person up to fail and be a poor conversationalist; that will only
make you invest and care less and cause the conversation to die out.
When people ask me low-effort, vague questions, I know they probably aren’t interested in
the answer.
They’re just filling the time and silence.
To create win-win conversations and better circumstances for all, ask for stories the
way the sports broadcasters do.
Ask questions in a way that makes people want to share.
Stories are personal, emotional, and compelling.
There is a thought process and narrative that necessarily exists.
They are what show your personality and are how you can learn about someone.
They reveal people’s emotions and how they think.
Last but not least, they show what you care about.
Compare this with simply asking for closed-ended answers.
These answers are often too boring and routine for people to care.
They will still respond to your questions but in a very literal way, and the level of
engagement won’t be there.
Peppering people with shallow questions puts them in a position to fail conversationally.
It’s the difference between asking “What was the best part of your day so far?
Tell me how you got that parking space so close!”
instead of just “How are you?”
When you ask somebody the second question, you’re looking for a quick, uninvolved answer.
You’re being lazy and either don’t care about their answer or want them to carry the
conversational burden.
When you ask somebody one of the first two questions, you’re inviting them to tell
a specific story about their day.
You are encouraging them to narrate the series of events that made their day great or not.
And your query can’t really be covered with a one-word answer.
Another example is “What is the most exciting part of your job?
How does it feel to make a difference like that?”
instead of simply asking them the generic “What do you do?"
When you only ask somebody what they do for a living, you know exactly how the rest of
the conversation will go - “Oh, I do X.
What about you?”
A final example is “How did you feel about your weekend?
What was the best part?
It was so nice outside,” instead of just “How was your weekend?”
Prompting others for stories instead of simple answers gives them a chance to speak in such
a way that they feel emotionally invested.
This increases the sense of meaning they derive from the conversation.
It also makes them feel you are genuinely interested in hearing their answer because
your question doesn’t sound generic.
Consider the following guidelines when asking a question -
1.
Ask for a story
2.
Be broad but with specific directions or prompts
3.
Ask about feelings and emotions
4.
Give the other person a direction to expand their answer into, and give them multiple
prompts, hints, and possibilities
5.
If all else fails, directly ask “Tell me the story about…”
Imagine that you want the other person to inform your curiosity.
Other examples include the following -
1.
“Tell me about the time you…” versus “How was that?”
2.
“Did you like that…” versus “How was it?”
3.
“You look focused.
What happened in your morning…”
versus “How are you?”
Let’s think about what happens when you elicit (and provide) personal stories instead
of the old, tired automatic replies.
You say hello to your coworker on Monday morning and you ask how his weekend was.
At this point, you have cataloged what you will say in case he asks you the same.
Remember, the person probably doesn’t care about the actual answer (“good” or “okay”),
but they would like to hear something interesting.
But you never get the chance, because you ask him “How was your weekend?
Tell me about the most interesting part—I know you didn’t just watch a movie at home!”
He opens up and begins to tell you about his Saturday night when he separately and involuntarily
visited a strip joint, a funeral, and a child’s birthday party.
That’s a conversation that can take off and get interesting, and you’ve successfully
bypassed the unnecessary and boring small talk that plagues so many of us.
Most people love talking about themselves.
Use this fact to your advantage.
Once someone takes your cue and starts sharing a story, make sure you are aware of how you’re
responding to that person through your facial expressions, gestures, body language, and
other nonverbal signals.
Since there is always at least one exciting thing in any story, focus on that high point
and don’t be afraid to show that you’re engaged.
One quick tip to show that you’re involved and even willing to add to the conversation
is something I call pinning the tail on the donkey.
There is probably a better name for it, but it will suffice for the time being.
The donkey is the story from someone else, while the tail is your addition to it.
It allows you to feel like you’re contributing, it makes other people know you’re listening,
and it turns into something you’ve created together.
In essence, you are taking the impact that someone wants to convey, and you are amplifying
it.
You are assisting them in their own storytelling—they want to extract a specific reaction from you,
and you are going above and beyond with the tail.
People will actually love you for it because, when you do this, your mindset becomes focused
on assisting people’s stories and letting them have the floor.
Here’s an example -
Bob’s story - “I went to the bank and tripped and spilled all my cash, making it
rain inadvertently.”
Tail - “Did you think you were Scrooge McDuck for a second?”
When you make a tail, try to hone in on the primary emotion the story was conveying, then
add a comment that amplifies it.
The story was about how Bob felt rich, and Scrooge McDuck is a duck who swims in pools
of gold doubloons, so it adds to the story and doesn’t steal Bob’s thunder.
Sabrina’s story - “After I ate lunch, I ran into the president of my company and
he said he remembered me because of the great ideas I had at the last meeting!”
Tail - “Just like you were winning a beauty pageant!”
This story was about how Sabrina felt flattered and hopeful, and so the concept of a beauty
pageant amplifies these emotions.
Get into the habit of assisting other people’s stories.
It’s easy, witty, and extremely appealing because you are helping them out.
Takeaways
-
•Captivating people usually refers to telling a story that leaves them listening like children
(in a good way).
Storytelling is a big topic that is often made overly complex, but there are many ways
of creating this feeling in small, everyday ways.
To captivate others is no easy feat, but the material and ability lies within all of us.
We just have to know where it is and how to access it.
•An easy way to imagine everyday storytelling is that your life is a series of stories—mini-stories,
to be exact.
Instead of giving one-word answers, get into the habit of framing your answers as a story
with a point.
It creates more engagement, lets you show your personality, and allows for smoother
conversation.
The bonus here is that you can prepare these before a conversation.
•The 1 -1 -1 method of storytelling is to simplify it as much as possible.
The impact of a story won’t necessarily be stronger if it is ten sentences versus
two sentences.
Therefore, the 1 -1 -1 - method focuses on the discussion and reaction that occurs after
a story.
A story can be composed solely of (1) one action, (2) one emotion to be evoked, and
(3) a one-sentence summary.
Don’t get lost rambling, and also make sure your listener feels that they are fully participating
in the conversation.
•The story spine is more or less the formula for every movie that exists.
It’s a simple framework that you can use in your everyday stories and conversations,
because it teaches you what emotional beats exist in a story.
There is the status quo, the event that kicks things off, the set of consequences for changing
the status quo, the climax or resolution, and then what happens after the fact.
•Stories can also be the basis for an inside joke.
When you think about it, an inside joke is something that comes up multiple times with
the same person and evokes a positive emotion.
It’s the same topic brought up in a different context.
Thus, you just need to call back to a story through a conversation and there’s a good
chance it will stick as a “Remember when we talked about…” moment.
The more you use it, the more a unique bond is created between only the two of you.
•Improving your storytelling ability is important, but what about eliciting stories
from others?
You can phrase your questions carefully to ask for stories rather than answers from people,
which is a simple way to make conversation easier and more enjoyable for everyone involved.
There are ways to make people open up to you and want to keep gabbing.
Remember the lesson we learned with the 1 -1 -1 method in pinpointing the emotions that
people are trying to evoke.
To amplify this, you can pin the tail on the donkey and strategically add on to people’s
stories.