Some people are naturally gifted at telling a story. They spin a yarn and have a group spellbound in seconds. I am not one of those people. Years ago, during an initial phase of training, we spent several weeks up at Fort AP Hill (Near Richmond, Virginia), doing land navigation and a host of other things. One day, after spending sixteen hours lugging eighty-pound packs in the swampy July heat of that place, we collapsed into our bed down spot for the night.
Still muggy and buggy, guys started telling stories. People begged my friend Adam to tell one of his, and he doggedly refused. Finally, another guy, Ken, began to tell a story. It was so bad- full of non sequiturs, a confused progression of events, and no clear punchline. Everyone collectively groaned, heckled, and banished Ken into the shadowy fringes of the gathering. Adam’s southern sense of propriety was so incensed by the horrible story that he agreed to tell his. I’d never heard it before, but I’d knew he’d used it to get his BUD/S class out of trouble before with the instructors. Boy, did it deliver. From the start of it I was captivated, and so was the rest of the group. By the end we were roaring with laughter, some of us rolling on the ground. It is insanely too inappropriate to relate here and must be subject to Who Killed JFK-like classification levels.
How did he do it? Why do some people intuitively grasp the contours of a good story better than others? I can’t really answer the latter, but I will take a stab at the former. John Vervaeke talks about Relevance Realization being the key to “seeing through illusion,” and getting an “optimal grip” on a given situation/context. A story is a way to order reality in a particular way, to entertain, to captivate, and to hopefully convey understanding about something. You are cherry-picking what you think it relevant for the recipient and leaving out all the unnecessary details. It is a very old psychotechnology, like a software humans run in their minds to accomplish a task. The best stories can entertain, enthrall, and educate. It’s like eating your veggies while thinking you’re eating dessert. The life lessons are baked in there.
I think there are as many ways to tell a story and create a narrative as there are inventive and innovative humans, but I do believe there are some upstream principles — not rules, that are helpful to that goal. Here are Story Grid’s “Five Commandments” of Storytelling. They work just as well for a Grimdark Game of Thrones style fiction tale, or a TED-talk style business vignette told at a conference.
1. The first commandment is the Inciting Incident, or the Call to Adventure in the phrasing of Joseph Campbell. Some would call this the “Beginning Hook.” What is that interesting thing that kicks off the event you want to discuss? Is it causal — the result of a particular decision or action? Is it coincidental — bad weather or a chance encounter? This part, whatever it is, it throws normal life, the status quo, out of balance in some way, and it promises the reader/listener something. Something exciting, something scary — it creates either anticipation, anxiety, or both. Usually, the protagonist of the story will misunderstand or underestimate it in some way.
2. The Turning Point. Life is full of complications. During a story, these show up as various roadblocks and obstacles to get around, but also windfalls as well. Maybe it’s an active turning point — a change in situation, actions of character, environment, or external force. Or it can be that a new piece of information has come to light, and the protagonist — must change direction because the revelation. This moment is usually the moment when the initial strategy followed to navigate the situation no longer works. What to do? The turning point of the story is when something changes — a value has shifted for the main character of the narrative. Maybe she goes from ignorance to knowledge, fear to relief, confident to unsure. I can’t emphasize this enough — EVERY STORY MUST TURN. This is important on a micro level for a scene, and a macro level for a longer narrative. The Turn is what really enthralls us as humans. Check it out yourself the next time you watch a show or movie. What keeps you engrossed is things are happening on the screen — things are changing.
3. This brings us to the Crisis. The word “Crisis.” The English word crisis comes from the ancient Greek word “krisis,” meaning “to decide.” This is also sometimes referred to as the “Dramatic Question.” “Two roads diverged in a wood” to quote Robert Frost. What will your protagonist do? To make it clear to the audience, it should be compelling. If it’s obvious what he/she should do, it’s not really a crisis, then, is it? Story Grid breaks it down in two ways, which can be combined to double the wallop. A Best Bad Choice — two incompatible problems. Maybe the goal then is to minimizes harm. For this one I always think of the scene in Crimson Tide, which is a classic military leadership question. Do you seal the hatch on the flooding compartment? You save the ship, but you consign your shipmates to death. The other option is an Irreconcilable Goods question. This is usually framed as good for the character vs. good for everyone else. Does the star athlete take the full scholarship to State, or does he stay home to take care of his ailing father? What options does the protagonist recognize for reacting to the turning point? What is at stake (risk) or what do they stand to gain from each option? Life is full of these pick your poison style choices, and stories give us additional pro-tips/hacks to add to our bank of experience. What did character X do when she was faced with Y?
4. The fourth commandment is the Climax — making the choice. One of my senior officers used to say, “In the face of adversity, true character is revealed.” It’s true — the choices that we or our protagonists make create our character, or who we are when the chips are down. Will we rise to the challenge, or falter? It’s important here that the protagonist choose herself — no Deus Ex Machina. In real life, it doesn’t always work this way, but we are crafting psychotechnology here — picking a relevant narrative to pass on lessons. Does the protagonist choose one of the options found in the Crisis, or do they find another way?
5. Finally, the last commandment is the Resolution. How did it work out? What is the outcome of the Climax? What is the fallout from the path not taken? These normally fall into either Prescriptive (It all worked out!) or Cautionary (Watch out, this could happen to you). This step inserts processing time, which both the Protagonist and audience need. It also sets the conditions for a new inciting incident.
Phew. So, there it is. Again, there are many ways to craft a good story — this is just one general framework to look at it with. Inciting Incident, Turning Point, Crisis, Climax, Resolution. Hit those wickets and you can entertain, enthrall, and educate an audience.