What Mom Taught Me About Story Telling

My sister and I still joke about it, but despite the affectionate eye-rolling, there's a secret to telling a story that not all writers are aware of.

The secret is repetition.

Wait, that's not all! Do you think I would give it away and you could call it quits, pack up and head home? You don't give away the best part just by stating the very obvious theme!

My mom would often tell the same stories, sometimes twice in a row, but what made you smile and even wait to chime in was the way she recited it as if reading it from a book. The same emphasis, the same excitement, the same words verbatim.

You want the readers or listeners to anticipate what is coming. You want to give them the clues but not saying outright. If you shout to the audience, what color is this apple?

(Red!)

They'll have a passing moment of camaraderie... But no satisfaction. Because any dumbo can state the obvious. When the audience is given clever clues that could be right or wrong, but end up arriving at the most satisfying conclusion, there is a lasting satisfaction that invests you in it, regardless of the outcome.

If the clues lead us to thinking that the protagonist is being hunted by his mother... You don't have to suddenly make those clues a red herring. It could remain that the culprit is the mother. Does the mother kill the protagonist or does the protagonist kill their mother? Or... Does the stalker actually turn out to be the werewolf that ate their mother?

There are plenty of places to land a surprising twist but the attentive audience won't forgive it if it lands too far off the plausible track. Given the mood anyway. If you ask your audience, what color is this apple?

(Harpsichord?)

You'd better hope you meant to write a nonsensical comedy. It's not unpredictability that makes a great story. It's creating a mood, a logical path, a place where they feel the gratification of chiming in. 

So what does a Game of Thrones fan say to death?

(NOT TODAY!)

Which also goes for anti-fans of Mondays.

Though I'd love to roll my eyes at one of my mom's oft repeated stories, I'll never have the privilege again. She's dead. Fortunately, she gave me a few tools, not on writing, but on making someone want to endure a story.

Say it for then people in the back... Repetition.

Maybe the gibberish after that part too.