Telling and retelling

Storytelling: If you have small children, or remember being one, you know that they love to hear the same books read to them and the same stories told to them over and over. And if you skip something in the story, your four-year-old will be quick to point it out, and will insist that you rectify it.

While young parents are driven to the edge of madness by the demand for storytelling repetition, us book writers should pay close attention to this need. It teaches us something about a fundamental human “itch” that needs “scratching.”

In a larger context, culture is preserved through storytelling. I was reminded of this last night at our Passover Seder. “Seder” is a Hebrew word meaning, ”order.” This is the one meal on the Jewish holiday calendar where the order of food, drink, blessings, readings, songs, and more is prescribed. And it’s done at home, amidst one’s family and friends, not in a house of worship.

Central to the Passover meal is the Haggada, the telling of Israel’s coming out from Egypt. Storytelling. “We were slaves to Pharoah in Egypt…and the Lord brought us out with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm.” We recite the plagues visited upon the Egyptions. We sing songs in praise of God, whose grace preserved us.

This year we had several thirty-somethings among us, whose interest in the full seder was polite but not deep. So my wise wife suggested we do a storytelling “improv” version of the Hagaddah. We went around the room–having first substituted a Pisco Sour for the first cup of wine, which helped to loosen tongues–and had each person tell a portion of the story, as they remembered it–no holds barred.

The result was hilarious, delightful–and profound. Feelings and thoughts came out that would not have been heard in a standard Seder.

The lesson for book writers: Make your storytelling personal. Tell a story, preferably one that has meaning in the context of your tribe. That is what will grab everyone’s attention, and enable them to hear what you are saying.