The Story-Teller's Start-Up Book

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The Story-Teller's Start-Up Book Page 3

by Margaret Read MacDonald


  Scripting

  Did the script communicate the tale's meanings well?

  Did the language flow easily?

  Was the language you spoke as fine as you had intended?

  Mark the text for spots you need to work on.

  Control

  Were you in complete control of your story?

  Did you know what you wanted to communicate well enough to relax and enjoy the sharing?

  To be able to answer yes to these questions you need only one thing—experience.

  Where can you tell this story again?

  BIBLIOGRAPHY Stage Fright

  Ristad, Eloise. "Clammy Hands and Shaky Knees." In A Soprano on Her Head, 157-171. Moab, Utah: Real People Press, 1982.

  Developing Characterization

  Breneman, Lucille N. and Bren Breneman. "Working for Characterization" and "Working for Visualization." In Once Upon a Time: A Storytelling Ilandbook, 43-60 and 61-72. Chicago: Nelson Hall Publishers, 1983.

  Delivery

  Cassady, Marsh. "Delivering Your Story." In Storytelling Step by Step, 134- '6 San Jose: Resource Publications, 1990.

  Cooper, Pamela J. and Rives Collins. "The Stories in the Telling: Finding Your Own Voice." In Look What Happened to Frog: Storytelling in Education. Scottsdale, Arizona: Gorsuch Scarisbrick Publishers, 1992.

  Sawyer, Ruth. "A Technique to Abolish Technique." In The Way of the storyteller, 131-48. New York: Viking Press, 1962.

  Schimmel, Nancy. "Telling a Story." In Just Enough to Make a Story, 9-13. Berkeley, California: Sisters' Choice Press, 1992.

  Eye Contact

  Breneman, Lucile N. and Bren Breneman. Once Upon a Time: A Storytelling Handbook, 70-71. Chicago: Nelson-Hall Publishers, 1983.

  Body Language

  Itreneman, Lucille N. and Bren Breneman. "Working for Bodily Action and Control." In Once Upon a Time: A Storytelling Handbook, 75-85. ( Ilk ago: Nelson-Hall Publishers, 1983.

  Livo, Norma J. and Sandra A. Rietz. "Learning Movement." In Storytelling Activities, 55-62. Littleton, Colorado: Libraries Unlimited, 1987.

  * * *

  Thinking of Story

  as an Event

  That evening Justine told "The Singing Bone" .... The moon was full, the frogs croaking, the children loud and noisy. A spark was running from storyteller to storyteller ....

  Yet despite the full support the audience gave Justine during her story, when she came to the moral, a man shouted, "It is not for you to draw those morals." Justine was under twenty, outspoken and independent in her ways. She would not be silenced. She shouted back at him: "I have as much right as you!" ...

  But before the argument could get underway, another storyteller cried, "Cric?" and there were sufficient cracs for the story to begin. Story after story, I was learning. A story begins much before its beginning.

  —Diane Wolkstein,

  The Magic Orange Tree and Other Haitian Folktales

  The folklorist today looks at traditional tellers with an eye

  to their use of story. The tale itself is only one part of the story event. The interplay between audience and teller, the performance aspects of the telling, the context into which the tale is played, the hidden agendas behind the telling, the way that talc and that telling function within that society—all these are of interest to the folktale scholar. We would do well to think

  * * *

  of these matters when planning and executing our own story events.

  Plan the Effect You Wish to Have on Your Audience.

  You will select your stories to please your audience, but perhaps also to affect them. If you have a hidden agenda behind your telling, be clear in your own mind about it and use your stories to their best effect. When telling to junior high audiences, I often tell "Owl" from Diane Wolkstein's The Magic Orange Tree. I do this because I want the boys in the group to know that, like owl, they may think themselves homely when in fact a girl may one day find them "striking." Being aware of this purpose to the telling, I take my time with the tale, I allow a great deal of silliness in playing it out, but as I approach the serious ending I make certain that my audience has calmed down and is receptive to the tale's strong message. Without this clear sense of purpose, I might muff the tale's final moment.

  Control the Physical Space and Set Up the Magical Moment.

  When planning your story event, consider the physical requirements of your program. Will you stand, sit, move about? A combination of all three? How will your listeners be arranged? In a semi-circle, in rows, or jumbled about on, under, and over the furniture? Will they be sitting on the floor, on chairs, on bleachers, in their beds? How crowded will they be?

  In the previous chapter, we talked about the importance of choosing the story spot carefully. You can create an otherworldly aura in the story space with simple props such as a rug and story chair, a wall hanging, a plant, and an arrangement of books. The warm light of a floor or table lamp can enhance the story area, or you can use a magical "story candle." The candle's lighting signals entrance into the story realm; at story's end, it is extinguished with a wish. Professor Spencer Shaw uses entrancing rhymes to carry the audience over into story as he lights the story candle. Other tellers ring bells, open story bags, don story aprons—anything that sets the moment and the space apart. Of course your attitude in creating this story environment is most important of all. If you think of this moment as unique, it will become a point of entry into the world of story.

  Plan a Flow for Your Program.

  In planning a tale event, you must think of the programmatic aspects of the entire scene. Are you the only teller? Or do you share the time with someone else? Do you tell for an hour? Half an hour? If you will be telling more than one story, you need to think about the flow of the entire program.

  What do you want to present in your first contact with the audience? You will need to interest them and convince them that time with you is going to be well spent. Your Introductory comments and first story must meet the audience on their ground. Later in your program, after the audience has come to trust you, you can introduce material that they might not accept from a "stranger." In a school assembly, for example, I begin with an active, humorous tale. Having captured the students' attention and pleased my audience, I can later move on to quiet, more thoughtful pieces. Conversely, when telling to adults I may start with more sedate material and move into a playful audience participation tale only after I have won them over.

  Consider the sequence in which you will tell your stories. Ii you tell four hyperactive audience participation stories in a row your listeners may be hanging from the ceiling ... or stretched out exhausted on the bleachers by the end of the last story. Pace your program, just as you pace your story. Add a calming tale into an active program. Or use an active tale to energize an audience during a quieter story session. Add poetry, music, and storytime stretches to rest your audience between tales. Listening is hard work. A break between tales is welcome and useful in lengthening the listening span of your audience.

  Give careful thought to your program's ending. You will want to end on that emotional note you wish your listeners to

  * * *

  carry away. Whether you end on a high or a low note is up to you. But the last tale's ending should be memorable.

  Visualize Disaster ... and Avoid It!

  Think ahead to envision both your audience and the setting. Control those factors you can control, and learn to live with those you cannot change. But thinking ahead prepares you for those unusual environments in which you may find yourself telling. If you agree to tell to children at a Christmas party, for example, assume that unless you exert control over the situation the smiling parents will plop twoyear-olds in front of you and retreat to the punch bowl to chat with friends. Assume that each child will bear a sticky piece of candy cane. Assume that if a bell should happen to jingle, the children will all leap up and run toward the sound, abandoning you for Santa Claus. Think ahead and control anything you can
to make your telling more successful.

  Tailor Your Repertoire for Success in Varied Settings.

  Knowing the composition of your audience in advance allows you to tailor your program to their interests and listening capabilities. The larger your repertoire, the easier it will be for you to plan programs that fit any eventuality.

  In your repertoire, you will eventually need:

  two or three audience participation tales (those in this book will work) that will hold any audience, from preschool to adult;

  two or three challenging, meaningful pieces with content strong enough to interest and move an adult audience;

  two or three storytime stretches—songs or activities that get your audience up and stretching between stories;

  and one strong story which you love so much you can tell it anytime, anywhere, anyhow.

  The latter is the one you trot out on the morning you wake up feeling bilious but just have to get through the story-line ... or the day Johnny brings his pet boa to class and insists on wearing it while you tell. In other words, you need one story you know well enough to tell on autopilot if need be. I don't recommend that you do that, but you need that story in your repertoire ... just in case.

  BIBLIOGRAPHY

  Establishing Storytelling Rituals

  Livo, Norma J. and Sandra A. Rietz. "Bringing the Author In." In Storytelling: Process and Practice, 155-203. Littleton, Colorado: Libraries Unlimited Inc., 1986.

  "Monitoring Pre-telling Protocols." In Storytelling

  Activities, 48-50. Littleton, Colorado: Libraries Unlimited, 1987.

  Shaw, Spencer G. "Arrangement of Program Content" in "First Steps: Storytime with Young Listeners." In Start Early for an Early Start: You and the Young Child, edited by Ferne Johnson, 50-51. Chicago: American Li-brary Association, 1976.

  Stotytime Songs, Games, and Stretches

  Mese sources suggest songs, poems, games, and short audience participation tales to wake the audience up and give them a stretch.

  Bultock Naomi. Crazy Jibberish and Other Story Hour Stretches. Hamden, Connecticut: Linnet Books, 1993.

  Thlijian, Virginia. Juba This and Juba That: Story Hour Stretches for large and Small Groups. Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1969.

  With a Deep Sea Smile: Story Hour Stretches for

  at and Small Groups. Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1974.

  Fingerplays and Action Rhymes for Younger Listeners

  Deft y, Jeff. Creative Fingerplays & Action Rhymes: An Index and Guide to their (Ise. Phoenix: The Oryx Press, 1992.

  * * *

  Playing with Story

  The attention of the group plays like a wind on the storyteller's instrument. He tunes it and sets the key to fit the particular group in front of him; he adjusts his material to the composite listening ear of his group. No two groups are alike nor is the same group in like mood twice running. The art of the storyteller is the most fluid of all the arts.

  —C. Madeleine Dixon, "Once Upon A Time," in Storytelling

  I think of my own storytellings as group play. Together the audience and I carry on this dance called story. Only I know the steps, but their responses dictate the direction, speed, and enthusiasm of our movement. At the heart of this approach is a relaxed and joyful sense of entering into story-play together. I am not performing before a group, I am sharing with them.

  Playing with Story Through Audience Participation

  All of the stories in this book will lend themselve to this type of relaxed "playing with story." The audience will catch on quickly to their "part." As you become more at-ease working with audiences, you can give the audience increasing freedom. Sometimes I engage in banter with audience members, sometimes I pretend a child in the audience is a character from my tale and initiate dialogue with that person. These improvisations are not necessary to effective storytelling—and could in tact hamper it if you don't keep a strong hand on your audience and a keen sense of direction to your story—but this kind of story-play can he a warm group-building device.

  All of the stories in this hook allow for audience participation through chants or songs. Some tellers like to rehearse their

  * * *

  song with the audience before the story begins so that they are ready to chime in when their part arises within the story. I usually just wait until the song makes its appearance in the tale. After I have sung it once by myself, I invite the audience, "Come on and help me with that song"; we all sing it again a time or two, and then the story progresses. Most audiences quickly pick up on the play between teller and audience in this type of storytelling. Usually a nod of your head and an encouraging glance are all that is needed to cue them to chime in. If they don't catch on at first, you can cue them with a question: "What did turtle say?" ("Turtle of Koka ...")

  Occasionally you will encounter an audience that will not respond. If they clearly feel uncomfortable with this type of activity, just tell the story without their participation. One spring, while visiting schools to tout our summer reading club, I told Diane Wolkstein's "Uncle Bouki Dances the Kokioko" to two fifth-grade classes. The first class had a teacher who read to them, told stories to them, and played with them all year. They and their teacher were dancing in the aisles along with Uncle Bouki and myself. I bounced into the classroom next door ready to play Uncle Bouki all over again. Those students had a stiff teacher; no one spoke in that classroom without raising a hand, everyone sat upright at his desk at all times. No one would clap or sing along with me in that classroom. I didn't dare even ask them to get up and dance. We must adapt our methods to our audiences.

  The second pitfall of audience-participation telling is the overly exuberant audience which gets so keyed up you lose control over them. A most horrifying example of that occurred when Jeff Defty, then a student librarian, and I were team-telling in an elementary school library. Jeff had just told a wonderful story about cats to two classes of kindergarteners sitting on the floor. He had the children being cats with him as he told the tale. He ended the tale with a flourish and dashed off in the same breath, "Now! Back to your classrooms!" The entire group swirled around and crawled meowing in a rushing mass out the library door and down the hall! They were halfway out the door before we recovered from our amazement and rushed to head them off.

  Plan a way to bring your audiences down to a calmer level of reality before releasing them back into their own lives.

  A student once complained that she had tried telling "Jack and the Robbers" and had been unable to stop the children once they started barking, meowing, crowing, and bellowing in response to the animals in the story. If your story calls for a loud cacophony of sound, be sure you are clear in your mind exactly how you will start the audience response ... and exactly how you will stop the audience response.

  Plan a way to stop every audience response that you start.

  Playing with Story Through Repeated Tellings

  Any good story deserves more than one telling. Audiences love to hear these repeated. They will demand to hear some tales again and again. If an audience keeps demanding a story, keep telling it. This story may be meeting some need of the group which neither you nor they can define.

  On repeated tellings the audience may take increasing control over the story. They may insist that it be told exactly the way they remember it, or they may begin suggesting ways to change the story. Stories with audience-participation opportunities are usually taken over with a fervor on repeated tellings. Soon the audience knows the entire tale from front to back. Their ownership of the tale becomes complete as they begin retelling the tale themselves.

  Playing with Story Through Dramatic Play

  On repeated tellings children soon show signs of wanting to "play" the story. They can barely sit still. They want to jump up and be the bears. Let them. You simply retell the story as they improvise its actions.

  At first, younger children will throw their bodies into the

  * * *

  story more readily th
an their voices. Older children will prefer to improvise their own speaking parts. As teller, you provide "And the old bear said ..." and let the bear take it from there.

  This is not "putting on a play"; this is simply "acting out a story." We are merely retelling with our bodies the story we have already loved through words. Let the story dictate your method here. With a two-character story such as "The Gunniwolf," we can all act out both parts, changing from character to character as the dialogue progresses. Or we can divide the group into two camps, little girls and Gunniwolves, letting each side act one part. For tales with more characters, assign parts, letting several children perform each role together if necessary. Just be sure everyone gets to play.

  Children find this dramatic play so rewarding that they will soon demand to act out every story you tell. This may not fit into your own plans. Select those stories you wish to move into dramatic play with care, and make it clear to the group that you will not "play" every story you share.

  Playing with Story Through Music

  As you begin playing with story, music may enter your tellings. Try retelling the story through song and rhythm.

  Create songs or musical interludes to add into your story. Let the children help you. Create a poetic line—then just sing it. Sing it again another way. Choose the musical mood that best suits it and add another line to it. Let your audience play with it, expand it, change it.

  Sing the entire story as an opera. Three eighth-grade boys in my class were shy about telling. They decided to sing "Henny Penny" instead. They simply began singing their parts to each other and soon had composed a delightfully rousing rendition. It was never written down, but it delighted the preschoolers for whom they performed.

 

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