It's like a fairytale, Sean says.
Once upon a time, (this happened) and then (this happened) which led to (this other thing.)
And you just follow the breadcrumbs to the end.
It's a great way to think about narrative. And for the first few months of my storytelling journey, I would put the words "once upon a time" at the beginning of every story idea.
If what followed next sounded like it belonged, I knew I might have something.
If what came next sounded awkward and out of place, I probably was looking a series of
ideas…instead of a series of
events.
But it didn't take me long to realize that the most important word in Sean's definition is actually the word "anecdote."
If you were to just string together a bunch of events (this happened, then this happened, which led to this other thing) you end up with what I like to call the firehose.
The firehose is not a good thing.
Trust me on that. So…we don't actually tell our listeners every single thing that happened.
Not every breadcrumb is big enough to follow!
Instead, we break our information into bite-sized chunks, called anecdotes.
An anecdote is a small series of events, with a beginning, middle and end. Every anecdote should include some sort of emotion or reflection.
Sometimes we might call them scenes.
Whatever term we use, they're rarely shorter than :30 seconds or longer than 2 minutes. And they're the ultimate – and original – show, don't tell.
But there's one more thing about Sean's definition that I had to figure out, before it really started working for me.
Remember how Sean said that the anecdotes are "propulsive?"
That means we're not just sticking a string of random stories together.
I'm looking for turning points -- those big moments where the story changes course.
And "lightbulb moments" -- where someone realizes something important about a challenge their facing.
I'm looking for unexpected developments (surprise!) and inevitable consequences.
I'm looking for stories that call out for other stories. Moments that happened as a direct result of some event I've already mentioned.
During the pitch process, I like to write a list of the major moments of my piece. Often, these individual moments are called story beats.
But the words that come between the story beats should not be "and then."
(This happened)
and then (this happened.)
That would be pretty boring.
Instead, each anecdote should be connected to the previous anecdote through the words "
therefore" or "
but then."
(This happened)
therefore (this happened.)
Or … (this happened)
but then (this happened.)
That way, we can make sure that we're only telling the parts of the story that are necessary waypoints in our journey to that satisfying resolution Sean was talking about.
Sean's definition has served me well. I've been teaching narrative this way for almost 10 years now.
But the way I think about narrative has changed over time. And I've come to realize that Sean's definition is only part of the answer. It's what narrative
sounds like.
But there's a whole lot more happening beneath the surface.
So let's go back and look at some of those other definitions, and how they might help us.
The most basic definition I've seen for narrative nonfiction looks something like this: