Extract From Story Proof by Kendall F. Haven - WHAT IS A STORY

Download as pdf or txt
Download as pdf or txt
You are on page 1of 3

Extract from: Story Proof: The Science Behind the Startling Power of Story by Kendall F.

Haven (2007), pp. 11-13.

___

SO, WHAT IS A STORY?

Common myths and misunderstandings prevent most people from effectively understanding
and using story structure.

Organizational and knowledge management researchers K. Dalkir and E. Wiseman summed


up their frustration by writing, ‘‘Storytelling suffers from one of the major obstacles still
encountered in KM [knowledge management]: namely, reaching agreement among
practitioners and scholars about what storytelling is and what it is not’’ (Dalkir and Wiseman
2004).

The authors of fourteen of the eighteen articles I have read from the field of narratology felt
obligated to define what they meant by the word story for the purpose of their study. So did
over 60 percent of my sources from narrative therapy and a significant number of my sources
from organizational management, knowledge management, and cognitive sciences.

Did they all define it the same way? No, not even close.

If confusion and misunderstanding reign supreme in many of the available writings on story,
where shall we find a solid basis for creating a defensible definition of story?

First, how would you define a story? What do you think is the difference between a story and:

A magazine article?

An essay?

An encyclopedia entry?

A memo?

Anything I want?

A recipe?

A basketball?

A poem?

A directive?

A conversation?

Last summer?

A newspaper column?

A joke?
Are these all stories? Do they all make stories? Are some stories? Surely, they do not all
match what we mean when we say story! Is there overlap, then, between story and these other
narrative forms? What makes some articles stories and some not? What makes some jokes
stories and some not? When is an essay a story and when is it not? What is a story?

Do you think that the following people all refer to the same thing—even though they all use
the same word: story?

• An editor growls, ‘‘What’s the story?’’ to a cub reporter.


• A drama critic searches for a movie’s ‘‘dramatic story arc.’’
• A therapist asks a patient to recount a rambling series of life events.
• A second-grade teacher asking her students for a half-page story of a dragon.
• A minister begins a recitation of a biblical parable.
• A father barks, ‘‘Don’t you tell me no stories!’’ to a son three hours late for curfew.
• A grizzled detective flips open his notebook and licks his pencil stub as he arrives at
the crime scene and growls to the rookie cop who discovered the body, ‘‘So, what’s
the story?’’
• A food critic writes a book on the history and cultivation of the carrot.
• A man drifts across a crowded cocktail party, pauses next to a woman who picks at
the shrimp platter, and says, ‘‘So, what’s your story?’’
• A couple shares the events of the day over dinner.
• A daughter snuggled into bed pleads, ‘‘Tell me a story!’’ to her mother.

Do they all mean the same thing when they use the word story to describe what they are
doing? The answer, of course, is no. But what does that say for your definition of what is and
what is not a story? How do you separate the stories from the non-stories?

I’ve already used the word story many times in this book. Did it always conjure a clear, definite,
and well-defined image into your mind? Probably it didn’t. And that’s part of the problem. We
typically don’t collectively or individually demand a clear understanding of that word. Most are
okay with a vague and fuzzy image—until you want to use stories to accomplish your
communication goals. Then you need to be precise if you want to be successful.

Take a minute to write your definition down. Force yourself to find the specific wording that
you think uniquely identifies a story and differentiates stories from narratives that aren’t stories.

I have asked thousands of adults and students to define a story. The most often offered answer
is that a story has a beginning, a middle, and an end.

True, but so what? What doesn’t have a beginning, a middle, and an end? A sewer pipe has
all three. So does a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Both the best and the worst prose ever
drafted had a beginning, a middle, and an end. 12 STORY SMARTS There is no information
in such a vague and all-encompassing notion. We need a definition that guides us toward
consistently successful and effective stories.

The second most common answer is that a story is when you tell about something that
happened. This seems true enough, but look at the lists above. All qualify as, ‘‘when you tell
about something that happened.’’ It’s like the beginning, middle, and end definition. It may be
true, but it’s far too vague and general to be useful. There has to be more to our definition if it
is to empower us to understand and consistently create the power we attribute to good stories.
Some answer that stories spark our imagination. Some say that they create an emotional
connection, that they involve the reader in the story and get remembered. Many say that
stories give readers a sense of satisfaction and completeness, and that stories ‘‘make me feel
as if I were there.’’ These are all desired effects of stories, but do not identify what the thing is
that creates the effects.

My favorite answer came from a fifth-grade boy in southwestern Pennsylvania. I asked the
question. His eyes bulged. His mouth dropped open. It was clear that he had just squandered
one of his life’s allotment of epiphanies on this question and that grand concepts had suddenly
jelled in his mind. He bolted out of his chair and shouted, ‘‘I know what a story is. It’s when
you have a subject and a verb!’’ I didn’t have the heart to squash that kind of enthusiasm. We
thereafter called his the definition of a very short story.

Why is it so difficult to articulate a succinct definition for story? Everyone has heard stories,
read stories, and told stories. Most people come in contact with stories on a daily basis. Stern
(1997) said, ‘‘Stories uniquely contain and present both our beliefs and our knowledge about
the world.’’ That’s pretty all inclusive. Zaltman (2003) pointed out, ‘‘The similarity of store and
story is not a coincidence.’’ Stories are our universal storehouse of knowledge, beliefs, values,
attitudes, passions, dreams, imagination, and vision.

We are forever surrounded by and immersed in our stories. And that may be the difficulty. ‘‘We
live in stories the way fish live in water, breathing them in and out, buoyed up by them, taking
from them our sustenance, but rarely conscious of this element in which we live’’ (Taylor 1996).

Much of the confusion over our definition of story hearkens back from three pervasive and
counterproductive misconceptions about stories.

You might also like