want to see me fail—most people don’t. Ultimately people want to see other people do well and will cheer them on, especially if they connect or relate to them. Starting with a story gives you the best chance of doing this. Especially a story about yourself that you know. So I tell a story about my time living in Shanghai. It is my own. I know it better than anyone because it happened to me. And as I settle into my storytelling, I can feel my connection with my audience. My laugh lines hit, and people are nodding their heads in recognition as my little slice of the human experience connected to theirs. When the crowd applauds loudly, I know it’s over. Outscoring all the others, I have won.
The good folks behind The Moth are true experts in the art of the story. Below are some of their best tips for storytellers, from novice to expert:12
Be forewarned: stories are told, not read.
We love how the storyteller connects with the audience when there is no PAGE between them! Please know your story “by heart” but not by rote memorization. No notes, paper, or cheat sheets allowed on stage.
Have some stakes.
Stakes are essential in live storytelling. What do you stand to gain or lose? Why is what happens in the story important to you? If you can’t answer this, then think of a different story. A story without stakes is an essay and is best experienced on the page, not the stage.
Start in the action.
Have a great first line that sets up the stakes or grabs attention.
No: “So I was thinking about climbing this mountain. But then I watched a little TV and made a snack and took a nap and my mom called and vented about her psoriasis then I did a little laundry (a whites load) (I lost another sock, darn it!) and then I thought about it again and decided I’d climb the mountain the next morning.”
Yes: “The mountain loomed before me. I had my hunting knife, some trail mix, and snow boots. I had to make it to the little cabin and start a fire before sundown or freeze to death for sure.”
Steer clear of meandering endings.
They kill a story! Your last line should be clear in your head before you start. Yes, bring the audience along with you as you contemplate what transpires in your story, but remember, you are driving the story and must know the final destination. Keep your hands on the wheel!
Know your story well enough so you can have fun!
Watching you panic to think of the next memorized line is harrowing for the audience. Make an outline, memorize your bullet points, and play with the details. Enjoy yourself. Imagine you are at a dinner party, not a deposition.
I followed these tips when I told my story and I did something else: I made it funny. In fact, the biggest advantage my story had over the other nine on that windy San Francisco night was this: it was funnier. The Moth won’t tell you that your story has to be funny, but those that incorporate some humor always do very well. I have now won a number of storytelling nights and performed alongside some of the biggest names nationally, and humor always plays as big a part in my stories as it does in my victories. In the next chapter we’ll look more at adding humor to your stories.
Whether you’re a stand-up comedian, budding storyteller, or a substandard Spanish language student involuntarily destroying a Guatemalan home, your story matters, and how you tell it makes all the difference in how it will be received. Combining storytelling, humanity, and laughter will give you a huge advantage in your public speaking, and the odds are good that you already have all the raw material you need. After all, we all have had something funny happen to us at some stage in life—now it’s just a matter of making it funny on an actual stage.
Exercise: Start Your Funny Story File
Think back through your experiences and make a bullet-point list of stories you like that have happened to you or your friends. When you are in the company of your friends and family, what stories do you like to tell? Think fun over funny at this stage. You can also pull material from your favorite books—the odds are in your favor that most people have not even read the biggest bestsellers, so this is an easy source.
Consider travel, school, college, parties, work, interaction with parents/in-laws, customer, and client interactions. Looking at old photos will help to jog memories. We all have had something funny or embarrassing happen to us at some point and, as Birbiglia showed us, even if it wasn’t funny then, it might be funny now. As Charlie Chaplin said, sometimes “to truly laugh, you must be able to take your pain, and play with it.”
We want to identify topics you already know well and already like to talk about. This will make your on-stage delivery much more engaging. Imagine your best friend, partner, or coworker completing this sentence: “(Your name here) is always talking about . . .” These are the beginnings of your story list, which we will edit as we go forward through the book.
Often listening to other people’s stories will jog your own memory. With this in mind, buy tickets to a comedy or storytelling show and go see it this week, or listen to a podcast like The Moth, Risk, Mortified, or Snap Judgment. Remember, great stories often come from seemingly mundane topics.
“The end of laughter is followed by the height of listening.”
–Jeffrey Gitomer
In 2000, I was lucky enough to spend a summer on a work and travel program in the United States with a group of other Irish students. The original plan was to live in Boston, but, faced with a shortage of temporary housing at the time, we ended up in Hampton Beach, New Hampshire. Not quite the intellectual landscape of MIT and Harvard, but that wasn’t going to stop our good time. We quickly embraced the state motto, “Live free or die,” and set about having as much fun as possible in our new surroundings: freely living it up, pushing our boundaries, and hoping that we didn’t die.
Then one day my neighbor handed me a beer bong. It had never before occurred to me to drink beer through a funnel. Frankly, I didn’t see the point. As a culture, we Irish love a drink way too much to shoot it down our throats through a tube. Plus, Ireland only has one drinking game—it’s called life.
“Call me old-fashioned,” I said to my neighbor, looking at the outstretched funnel in his hands, “but a pint glass works just fine.”
“That’s fine. If you’re not up for it, you don’t have to.”
My eyes narrowed as my competitive streak kicked in. Ireland doesn’t win an awful lot in sports, but we are undefeated in the pursuit of Pyrrhic victories.
“Give me the funnel.”
Twelve funneled beers later, I finally bowed out. Now, anyone familiar with drinking beer from a funnel knows exactly what I looked like at this point and exactly where I was heading. It wasn’t long before the shout “Hampton Police, open the door!” came, as a fist on the other side of our apartment door knocked loudly. I’d seen the cultural masterpiece that is Cops, which even ran in Ireland, so I knew they needed
