S is for... scary

Every storyteller needs to have a scary story or two in their back pocket. I wrote this post several years ago and thought it would make an excellent S entry. Over on my organizational storytelling blog I've written S is for storytelling, check that out if you're interested.
One of the fun things I get to write about is how to tell specific kinds of stories. We've looked at personal stories, hero stories, fairytales/myths and tall tales. Today we’ll look at scary stories. 


In the context of this blog post scary story means a story with some kind of supernatural or horrific element (haunted house, movie-style killer) rather than a story of real-life horror (bank foreclosure, natural disaster, real-life murder). These stories are meant to give your listeners a delightful chill, not a lingering dread.


Whenever I tell stories with kids and ask them what they'd like to hear, they always ask for a scary story. It seems to be what kids are most familiar with in a "storytelling" context, maybe from camp or from other media sources. Because these stories have such deep appeal for children I'd recommend that you have several in your repertoire that are appropriate for younger people. You can always tweak details to make them more appropriate for adults.


The single most important element in telling a scary story is you, just as it is in all storytelling. You have to believe what you're saying; it's even better if you think the story is creepy. If you are insincere your listeners will know and won't be drawn into their own imaginations. You can increase the intimacy and believability of scary stories by lowering your voice, lowering the lights, looking around as if you're nervous and telling your listeners that you don't usually tell this one, because it scares you.


Some other common elements in effective scary storytelling are:

• Locale. It really helps if you can include regional details your listeners will recognize. It will make the story more believable. Yes, this means changing the story. As long as you're telling a traditional story (more on where to find these momentarily) or making it up yourself, that's okay. If you're telling someone else's story then you have already gotten permission and discussed the alteration with them. If you are a region you don't know, so can't make the story local, then make it local to you. It happened in your neighborhood, near your school or at your summer camp. If it's a traditional story where the locale must remain distant, make sure you set that context appropriately. "This is a story from ancient Japan. People still tell it around campfires and they know it's real."
• Eye-witness accounts. If appropriate, for example when telling an urban legend, tell them you heard the story from the person it happened to. This increases believability. If it's something that happened to you, tell them.
• Vocal control. If you're telling a jump-tale (a story that ends with a bang so your audience jumps) make sure you don't broadcast it ahead of time. Keep your voice at the same volume right up to the yelling part.
• Select the right story for your audience. Remember who you are and who they are. This goes back to basic storytelling technique. If you can't do an accent well, don't do it, your listeners will be distracted. If you're a white, middle-aged man don't pretend to be a young black woman if you're telling about a haunted place in the 'hood. You can always say you heard the story from a student. Additionally, select the right level of creepiness for your audience. Kindergartners don't need to know all of the horrible details, while college students might revel in them.
• Internal logic. Be aware of logical holes in the story, especially when telling with kids. If everyone dies in the story then how did you hear it? Kids will ask you about it.
• Practice. You will be a better storyteller if you practice your craft and approach it as work worth investing yourself in.

So where can you find some good scary stories to tell? Folklore is rife with scary stories. This is a good resource as is the urban legend database. Remember to tweak those details to make it local. I tell a version of the vanishing hitch-hiker that I always change to include wherever I am: In the Northeast you're never far from a cemetery, I bet wherever you are you can find something spooky nearby. 

Folklorist Alvin Schwartz has collected many American folktales in Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark Boxed Set. Another good book is The Ghost & I: Scary Stories for Paticipatory Telling; I especially like this one because it includes both telling tips and stories for adults as well as kids. Additionally, the authors have given permission for storytellers to tell these tales. 

I'm sure you can find many more good resources at your local library or bookstore. Just remember to ask permission to tell other people's stories. For those in the Kansas City area, I'll be teaching a storytelling class at Communiversity starting in June. I'd love it if you came and told with me!

Have fun telling these tales. Scary stories are among the most dramatic and playful of stories you can tell. I'm sure you'll enjoy experimenting with them. Next time we'll take a look at tall tales. See you soon!

(c)2013 Laura S. Packer

R is for... research

I love research. I love digging in and finding the seeds of old stories, ferreting out variants and linguistic roots and cultural meaning. I love it. It makes my mouth water.

When I research a story, be it a myth, a folktale, a legend, a historical piece, the fact-based parts of original fiction or the details of a personal story, I give it greater depth. While my research might never make it into the final piece, it does inform how I tell the story. If I know, for example, that my great-grandmother never really got over the boyfriend she left behind in Prussia, then that might color the way she talks to my grandmother about boys.

Good research shapes each character, setting and event in your story. While it isn't a prerequisite to being a storyteller, when you really love a piece you want to know more about it, so research is a natural side-effect.

There are many great resources online for story research. Here are a few of my favorites.

• Sur la Lune is a great fairy tale site with variants and annotated versions of hundreds of fairy tales.
• Karen Chace's Storybug blog is a great, frequently updated resource for stories on a wide variety of topics.
• Encyclopedia Mythica is a great myth resource, with cross references.
• Artcyclopedia is a really good online art reference. This helps you visualize time periods and places.
• The Library of Congress has a fantastic website, rich with images and articles on almost anything you could want. Want to hear Warren G. Harding? This is the place!
• The Public Library of Science answers your science questions
• The New York Public Library Digital Gallery can help you visualize almost anything.

There are so many more. These are just a few I use regularly. Please add any great research sites you love in the comments!

I hope you have fun with your research. Remember, the better you know the background to your stories the better your telling.

(c)2013 Laura S. Packer

Q is for...quiet

I have a great need for quiet in my life if I am to be creative. I need time and space around me within which I can think. I certainly need to be listened to, need to talk and think things through with friends, but quiet is where it starts.

That quiet can actually be quite noisy. It could be the rumble of a coffee shop, the crash-and-hiss of the ocean, the wind in trees... any kind of white noise works as well as quiet. What doesn't support my creative process is interruption, directed noise or voices I need to attend to. I don't work well if the music around me is in English, for example.

It's important that we figure out what kind of environments support our creativity. I know I need quiet, I need blocks of time, I need good light and a comfortable place to curl up. What do you need?  What fosters and supports your creativity?

And if you are in the position of helping others be creative, what do they need? Do cubicles and florescent lights really support their creativity? What might help?

Put some thought into your environment. Find the quiet and space you need to listen to the still, small voice inside. You might be surprised by what it has to say.

(c)2013 Laura S. Packer

The Storytelling Alphabet, k-p

As you know by now, I'm blogging the storytelling alphabet daily through May. You can see Part 1 here and Part 2 here. This week we covered k-p; here is a summary.

K is for Karma
What goes around comes around. When storytellers are good listeners, help other tellers and behave ethically, it helps them and their communities. There is abundance for all. You can read K is for Karma here. 

L is for Listening
Storytelling starts with listening. Storytellers need to listen to the world around them for material. We need to listen to other tellers to learn more about telling and to support each other. We need to be listened to, in order to hone our craft. The world is a better place when we listen more. You can read L is for Listening here. 

M is for Monsters
As storytellers, we are intimate with monsters. Not only the monsters that haunt any artist, but the monsters in our material. When we understand our monsters better we can build more sympathetic characters and a better relationship with the audience. You can read M is for Monsters here.

N is for Nonsense and News
Some tips and tricks on the value of nonsense in stories.  And some thoughts about what to do when the news intrudes on our storytelling life and how to accept and incorporate outside events into our arts. You can read N is for News here. 

O is for Opportunity
We never know when we'll have the opportunity to tell a needed story, hear the right tale or get a gig. We need to be open to opportunity and accept it in all its guises. You can read O is for Opportunity here. 

P is for Practice
Storytelling is like any other art: We need to practice. It can be hard to remember this in the drunken moment of performance, but everything we do is part of our storytelling practice. Some tips and tricks for practicing stories. You can read P is for Practice here. 

We're on the downhill side of the alphabet now. Stay tuned to find out hos I handle Q,  and Z!

(c) 2013 Laura Packer

P is for... practice

You know how to get to Carnegie Hall, right? Practice.

It's easy, in the first flush of falling in love with storytelling and the audience, to forget that we need to apply as much time and practice to our art as any other artist does. Because so much of we do is about connecting with the audience, many novice tellers pretend we don't need to work, craft and practice before we get up on stage. But we do.

The best storytellers I know are diligent about practice. They work on their craft like they're building houses, starting from the foundation up, paying attention to each and every corner and window. It's work. It takes practice.

There are many ways you can practice your craft. I do all of these.

• Write an outline. Remove all the excess and tell only from the sparse notes.
• Find a trusted friend and tell your story to them. Ask them to tell you the things they love the most about the story.
• Tell your story to a tree or the ocean. You might hear things you didn't notice before.
• Hold a small house concert. Invite people who will be happy to hear a practice run. Wine might help.
• Video yourself telling. Then watch, so you can see what body language worked and what didn't.
• Hire a story coach or director. They have experience and an eye that might be quite useful.
• Go to an open mic and tell part of the piece there. Nothing like having a live audience to help you along.

You story may very well change as you practice. Let it. These changes might be great new facets you never before explored. And don't be afraid to let parts fall by the wayside. It doesn't mean they're bad, just that they might belong somewhere else.

Remember that each telling experience is a chance to practice. Because storytelling is such a flexible art, your story will change with each telling, but practice means you know the rhythms of the story. You know the hard places. You know how audiences tend to react and you're prepared when they react in new ways.

And besides, practice is really just a chance to tell your story again. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy your storytelling practice. And isn't it grand that we can always learn more about our art and craft!

I'd love to know what practice techniques work for you.

(c)2013 Laura S. Packer

O is for... opportunity

I love the letter O. I love its openness and roundness and the possibility it suggests. O is for optimism and opportunity. 

We never know when a chance to tell stories will come upon us. I have found myself unexpectedly telling stories on public transit, in business meetings, in hospital and to random strangers on the street. We never know when the universe will say here. Now. Tell a story. Here is an opportunity to share. We need to pay attention for these opportunities and be ready when they arise. Don’t be afraid.

What’s more, we never know when we will be given the gift of story fodder, the opportunity to craft a story out of the world around us. It might be in the overheard conversation, in a moment inspired by a book or movie, in the time spent with strangers or loved ones. We never know when the universe will say shut up. Listen. Here is an opportunity to hear something magnificent. We need to pay attention for these opportunities too, and remember that storytelling starts with listening.

Beyond opportunities to remember we live in a world rich with story that needs ours as much as anyone else’s, we also never know when we will have an opportunity for work. It could arise out of a casual conversation, a referral, almost anything. We just need to remember to be grateful and to be ethical in the work we do. But really, we never know when the universe will say try this. You’ll be great. We need to pay attention for these opportunities as well, strive to make them and accept them when they arise. And, because the universe sometimes needs a bit of help, carry business cards. 

All of this reminds me of a joke. 

There was a great flood and a man found himself stranded on the roof of his home. He began to pray, asking God to rescue him. After a few minutes some people in a canoe came along and invited him in. “No,” he replied, “I’m fine. God will take care of me.” 

He kept praying. The water kept rising. It lapped at the edges of the roof.

Soon some people in a rowboat drifted by and asked if he needed help. “No,” he replied, “I’m fine. God will take care of me.”

He kept praying. The water kept rising. Now the water was as high as his toes.

Soon a helicopter hovered over him. They threw down a ladder and called out, “Climb on!”

“No,” he replied, “I’m fine. God will take care of me.” 

The helicopter roared away. He kept praying. The water kept rising. Soon the house began to shudder and then it collapsed underneath him. Try as he might, he soon drowned.

The man found himself in Heaven. He asked God, “Why didn’t you help? I prayed!”

And God replied, “Hey, I sent two boats and helicopter, what more did you want?”

The storyteller’s work fits in just about anywhere. We just need to pay attention and the opportunities are there.

(c)2013 Laura S. Packer

N is for... nonsense and news

We're over halfway through the storytelling alphabet journey! To celebrate, we'll cover two topics today, nonsense and news, though the two are often indistinguishable.

Nonsense is delightful, regardless of the age of your audience. A bit of nonsense can be inserted into a tale as a kind of repeating chorus. It can also be a touchstone that identifies specific characters or places. I tell a series of stories about Crazy Jane, a holy fool. These stories are generally told to adults, though kids like them, too. Most Crazy Jane stories include some kind of nonsensical event or language early on, because Crazy Jane is crazy - she revels in nonsense, in rhymes and riddle and things that are just silly. The story may eventually go in a much more somber direction, but the silly start lets the audience know that this is Crazy Jane, she is crazy and wild and unpredictable.

Other storytellers have used nonsense to great effect. Brother Blue would routinely insert scat into his stories. These nonsense syllables were punctuation, a way he could give both himself and the audience a chance to pause and think about the story. It was one of his signature storytelling moments.

Even business speakers might find a bit of nonsense useful; you can use it to contrast your real facts and figures or to poke fun at the seriousness of the moment.

It's worth playing around with nonsense and seeing what you make of it. You might find great sense hidden there.

A less intentional kind of nonsense is the news. We are surrounded by a steady stream of current events coverage, making it very hard to escape the challenging events that seem to occur daily in this world we live in. As storytellers, we can talk about news events in a variety of ways.

• We can tell personal stories about our reaction to the news. This could include recollections, stories about people we know or have created who were present during an event, or other realistic stories. These stories help us all remember we're not alone in our reactions to these difficult times and can bring new information to your listeners.  The danger is that the storyteller must be able to tell the tale without falling apart. You don't want your audience to have to take care of you, instead of being immersed in their own response to the story.
• We can tell allegories. Many traditional stories can easily be recast into responses to current events. This lets us think about the tough stuff through metaphor. Just make sure your audience has room to come to the metaphor on their own terms. Equally, understand what your story is about. I recently retold The Abduction of Persephone from her mother's point of view; this was a week or two after the shootings in Newtown, CT. It was only midway through the story that I realized I was telling a story of parental grief, so we could all grieve these lost children. It was a hard moment in the telling, when I had to rely on all of professionalism to keep going. I've written more about that experience here and you can see the performance here. 
• We can acknowledge the event and move on. Sometimes we just need to move past something and proceed as we originally intended. If the event is big enough, it becomes another presence in the room. Acknowledging it means your listeners know that you understand why they might be distracted. They know you are, too. And they know that together perhaps you can escape for just a little while.
• We can use the event to create a new story. How many of us have stories about where we were when we heard about 9/11? The Challenger explosion? The King and Kennedy assassinations? What about a story of foreclosure or marching for civil rights or watching the moon landing? We can take those moments after they've had time to crust over, put them in a personal and historical context, and build something new. We can share our lives and our history with each other, using those moments as a way to talk about something else entirely.

Every storyteller will have to contend with the world beyond their performance. We are lucky, our work is about connecting with other human beings. When we remember we are of the world, not separate from it, even the most difficult moment can be wrapped in story.

(c)2013 Laura S. Packer