Are you curious about how to craft compelling stories from your everyday life experiences? Ever wondered how famous movies like Jurassic Park and Star Wars hook their audiences? Want to know how a traumatic armed robbery led to a discovery of personal storytelling and the launch of a global storytelling venture? Here's a masterclass on transforming ordinary moments into extraordinary ones, with insights from an expert who's been there, done that.

Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life through the Power of Storytelling

A while ago, a man in Matthew Dicks' workshop asked, "Why am I here? I don’t want to stand on stages and tell stories." His wife had asked him to attend, and he wasn't alone in that. Many people come to Matthew's storytelling workshops for various reasons, not just to perform. Some see storytelling as a tool for their careers, relationships, or personal growth.

Matthew had the same reservations when he started teaching storytelling. His wife Elysha and he had founded Speak Up, a storytelling organization, and as their audience grew, people wanted to learn the craft. Reluctantly, Matthew agreed to teach one workshop. Ten people spent six evenings with him, and he discovered a passion for teaching storytelling. Now, Matthew travels the world teaching diverse groups—attorneys, professors, salespeople, therapists, and even people looking to improve their dating skills or be more interesting at dinner.

Storytelling isn't just about performing on stage. It's about connecting with others, making them believe in you, and compelling them to know more about you. It’s about telling your own story, not someone else’s. And it should pass the "Dinner Test"—the story you craft for an audience should be similar to the one you'd tell a friend at dinner. Authenticity is key.

One night, Elysha shared how she fell in love with Matthew through his storytelling during a dinner at Chili's. It wasn’t a date; they were just friends. But Matthew's willingness to share his stories, warts and all, captivated her. This power of personal storytelling is what draws people in, creating connections that folktales and fables can’t.

Matthew once told a story about his childhood hunger and how his wife uncovered this secret. It was a small moment at their dinner table, but it resonated deeply with audiences because it was relatable. We all have secrets and know what it’s like to want something essential. These tiny, everyday moments are often the most compelling stories.

To find these moments, Matthew developed a practice called "Homework for Life." Every day, he reflects on his day and identifies the most storyworthy moment. He writes a sentence or two about it in a spreadsheet. This practice has transformed his life, helping him see the beauty and significance in everyday events. It’s not just about finding stories to tell on stage; it’s about recognizing the meaningful moments in our lives and holding onto them.

One night, Matthew's dog Kaleigh woke him up at 2 AM. He took her out in just his boxers, and as they walked, it started to pour. Years ago, he would have been angry. But with his storytelling lens, he saw the beauty in that absurd, rainy walk with his best friend. These moments are everywhere, waiting to be noticed.

Doing Homework for Life has given Matthew an endless supply of stories and made him a happier person. It has also slowed down time, making each day feel rich and significant. If you commit to this practice, you’ll find your life filled with storyworthy moments, and you’ll see your importance in the world.

So, Matthew suggests asking yourself at the end of each day: What is my story from today? Write it down. It will change your life.

Can Storytelling Transform Your Life Like It Did for Elysha?

When Matthew was 22, managing a McDonald's in Brockton, Massachusetts, he faced a traumatic armed robbery. The gunmen, who had killed someone the week before, didn't believe Matthew couldn't open a lockbox. 

The experience left him with PTSD for over 20 years, filled with nightmares and anxiety. His wife, Elysha, pushed him to therapy, helping him regain peace and reducing the frequency of his nightmares. Now, Matthew cherishes the nights filled with normal, whimsical dreams.

Matthew discovered a creative exercise called "Crash & Burn," which is like dreaming while awake. It’s stream-of-consciousness writing that helps unearth ideas and memories. The key is to keep writing without judgment or stopping, allowing random thoughts to flow. This process can reveal forgotten memories and inspire new stories.

Matthew vividly recalls a session where starting with "grape" led him to memories of a childhood injury and his father's breath-holding antics at a pond, which terrified him. Such recovered memories enrich his life, connecting past and present, and making his story feel fuller.

Matthew also uses a method called "First Last Best Worst" to find stories. By reflecting on first, last, best, and worst experiences, he uncovers stories that shape his life. This exercise can be enlightening, revealing forgotten events and creating meaningful connections.

These tools—Crash & Burn and First Last Best Worst—are invaluable for storytelling. They transform memories into stories, filling gaps in one's life narrative and adding depth to the journey. Through these exercises, Matthew has developed a keen sense for stories, which are not only a source of entertainment but also a means to understand and appreciate life’s richness.

From McDonald's Heist to Healing: Unleashing Stories with 'Crash & Burn'

In the fall of 1991, Matthew was twenty years old, driving home from his first and only booty call on a lonely New Hampshire highway. Suddenly, his car's tire blew out, leaving him stranded without a spare tire or a cell phone. After a seven-hour trek and an encounter with a half-naked mountain man named Winston, Matthew managed to get a spare tire, but he was out of gas and money.

Desperate, Matthew decided to beg for gas at a Citgo station. The attendant refused, so he waited for a shift change while refining his pitch. Then, inspiration struck. Matthew donned his McDonald's manager uniform, knocked on a stranger's door, and lied about collecting money for Ronald McDonald Children's Charities. The man at the door, who had recently lost his wife to cancer, gave Matthew twenty dollars and shared his heartbreaking story.

This encounter profoundly changed Matthew. As he drove home, he realized that his loneliness paled in comparison to the man's enduring grief. That fleeting moment of clarity taught Matthew the true depth of loneliness and the importance of empathy.

In storytelling, it's these five-second moments of fundamental change that resonate most. They are the crux of great stories, whether in personal anecdotes or blockbuster films like "Jurassic Park" and "Raiders of the Lost Ark." These stories aren't just about dinosaurs or treasure hunts; they're about personal transformation and deeper human connections.

So, if you think you have a story, find that pivotal moment of change. It's the key to crafting a narrative that will truly engage and move your audience.

Can a Five-Second Epiphany on a Lonely Highway Rival the Drama of Jurassic Park?

If you've got your five-second moment, a revelation or transformation, that's fantastic! You're already ahead of most storytellers. Sharing a real, meaningful moment from your life makes people want to hear more. This moment, the climax of your story, should come as close to the end as possible, if not be the final thing you say. Knowing your ending is key because it informs all your storytelling choices.

But finding where to start is trickier. Begin with the opposite of your ending; it creates a satisfying arc, showing change over time. Stories must reflect change, whether it's failure, success, or incremental growth. The transformation could be from hopeful to hopeless, lost to found, or afraid to fearless. Change is what makes stories satisfying and emotionally impactful.

Consider a romantic comedy: a woman loses her job and her boyfriend. She’s devastated, but by the end, she has a new job and a new love, likely the opposite of her banker ex, like a kindergarten teacher or artist. This predictable arc doesn’t ruin the movie; it’s the journey that entertains.

In Jurassic Park, Alan Grant starts hating kids but ends up loving them. This predictable change keeps us engaged. Even in predictable movies like Jurassic World, where certain characters' fates are obvious, the journey still grips us.

Matthew argues that your beginning should create a clear path to the end. Sometimes it’s easy to find; sometimes not. For example, Matthew once had a story about realizing he knew nothing about loneliness. The opposite was believing he understood loneliness, which he felt parked at a Citgo station, thinking about his lonely life. That moment was easy for him to find.

Other times, finding that start is harder, like when Matthew had to reveal his childhood hunger to his wife. He chose moments from his childhood to show why he kept it a secret. It took time for him to find the right anecdotes, ones that varied in tone and context, and echoed the end. Great storytellers know the first idea is rarely the best. He spends a lot of time finding the perfect beginning, often starting as close to the end as possible, simplifying the story for clarity and impact.

For instance, a story about Matthew getting a rental car started at the airport but ended up beginning at the rental counter in Florida. Simplifying made it easier to tell and more engaging.

Matthew argues that movies often start with forward movement—characters walking, driving, flying—immediately immersing you in the story. Think of Star Wars or Raiders of the Lost Ark, where action starts right away, pulling you in.

To keep your audience engaged, Matthew suggests using strategies like presenting an Elephant (the story's main problem or goal), putting on a Backpack (sharing hopes and fears before a big moment), dropping Breadcrumbs (hinting at future events), using an Hourglass (slowing down at critical moments), and Crystal Balls (making false predictions).

Humor can also keep attention through less exciting parts, but stakes—what's at risk—are crucial. Without stakes, a story falls flat.

So, start with your ending, find the opposite beginning, use these strategies to keep your audience hooked, and you'll tell a compelling story.

Mastering Storytelling: Insights from Jurassic Park to Star Wars

Storytellers sometimes stretch the truth, but not for selfish reasons. They tweak reality to captivate and connect with their audience. It's all about crafting a memorable tale, not boosting their egos. Memory is tricky; every time they recount a story, it changes a little. 

Matthew once told a story about the night his daughter was conceived, thinking he was the one who burned his hand. His wife corrected him—it was her. His memory had morphed. Storytellers must accept these inaccuracies and use them to enhance the narrative.

They cheat a bit with "permissible lies" like omission or compression to keep stories engaging. For instance, in Matthew's story "Charity Thief," he omits a hilarious hitchhiker named Randy because he distracts from the emotional crux. They compress timelines or assume details to maintain flow, and sometimes rearrange events for emotional impact.

But the heart of storytelling lies in creating a cinematic experience for the audience. Every moment should have a setting, like a movie scene. When Matthew talks about his grandmother, he sets the scene in her garden, allowing listeners to visualize and be part of the story. It's about crafting a mental movie that keeps rolling.

Using "but" and "therefore" instead of "and" in storytelling adds momentum and surprise. Instead of a flat recounting, these words create a serrated path, pushing the story forward. Trey Parker and Matt Stone of "South Park" fame discovered this too, emphasizing causation in storytelling.

Finally, storytelling creates connections. Sharing Matthew's stories means people know him intimately, even if it's one-sided. It's how he ended up celebrating Christmas with a family in Illinois who treated him like one of their own. That's the magic of storytelling—it makes us family.

Do Trey Parker and Matt Stone's Storytelling Secrets Make Us All Family?

December 23, 1988, was supposed to be the start of a perfect Christmas for seventeen-year-old Matthew. With money in his pocket from his managerial job at McDonald's, he was determined to make this holiday special, buying gifts for friends like Bengi, Pat, Coog, and Tom. 

His friend Pat, cooler than Matthew would ever be, found it odd that Matthew was buying surprise Christmas presents for his friends, but Matthew was undeterred. His life had been filled with poverty and family issues for so long, and he finally had a chance to change the narrative.

Driving through Mendon, Massachusetts, in his mother's tiny Datsun, the first snowfall of the year painted a picturesque scene. But as Matthew rounded a corner, his car slid into the opposite lane. In a heart-stopping moment, he saw a white Mercedes-Benz approaching, and time seemed to freeze. He wasn't wearing his seatbelt—something he always did, except that day. The crash was brutal. His head shattered the windshield, and his body slammed against the steering wheel and dashboard. Yet, amidst the chaos, shock shielded him from immediate pain.

Matthew stumbled out of the car, bloodied and broken, as the unscathed driver of the Mercedes fainted at the sight of him. A pickup full of teenagers arrived, and a boy his age assessed his dire condition with stark honesty: "Dude, you're fucked." Soon, he was in an ambulance, brought back to life by frantic paramedics after his heart stopped for a minute.

In the ER, as doctors worked to fix his shattered body, Matthew felt utterly alone. His parents were nowhere to be seen, having gone to check on the wrecked car first. But as he lay there, something miraculous happened. His friends, alerted by a call to McDonald's, filled the waiting room. They couldn't come in, but seeing them wave and give thumbs-up through the door, Matthew realized he wasn't alone. Their presence was the best Christmas gift he could have ever received. They were his family when he had none.

This story isn't about a car accident or a near-death experience. It's about the unexpected family that stood by Matthew during his darkest hour. It's about finding the small, relatable moments amid life's chaos and realizing that sometimes, friends are the family you truly need.

From McDonald's Manager to a Christmas Miracle: The Unexpected Family

Crafting humor into storytelling isn't about being a natural comedian. It's about strategically weaving funny moments into your narrative to create a tapestry of emotion. Take Matthew's story, "Strip Club of My Own Making," where he ended up stripping at a bachelorette party in a McDonald's crew room. It's situationally funny, proving that even the least funny person can have a funny story.

The key is balance. Like in stand-up comedy, where jokes fly fast but rarely linger, storytelling uses humor to enhance the emotional journey. A story should leave a lasting impression, touching hearts and minds. Matthew's near-fatal car accident story, "This Is Going to Suck," isn't funny, yet he strategically used humor to steer the emotional rollercoaster. He started with a laugh to ease the audience in, used humor before the collision to heighten the impact, added a laugh post-crash to break tension, and ended with a laugh to reset the emotional tone.

Humor in storytelling isn't about constant laughter; it's about timing. Consider the "Milk Cans and a Baseball" strategy, where you build up to a punchline, like comparing a car's size to a "box of Pop-Tarts."

Remember, humor is a tool, not a necessity. It's the heart that anchors a story, giving it depth and meaning. And while humor can make a story more engaging, the ending should always land on something real, something that resonates beyond laughter.

Can Strategic Humor Transform Your Stories Like a Comedian's Act?

Matthew is on an Amtrak train, tapping away on his laptop while his daughter reads peacefully beside him, her face aglow with the setting sun. His son, Charlie, however, is a restless bundle of energy. He needs to pee, but the train's restrooms are a no-go for him—"yuck," he calls them. 

Despite Matthew's efforts, a five-year-old's bladder is stubbornly unyielding without consent. Their journey from New Jersey to Connecticut becomes a lesson in patience as Matthew coaxes Charlie on multiple restroom expeditions. Each attempt ends with a resigned headshake and a sigh, his confidence waning with every failure.

The present tense weaves you into this moment, turning Matthew's struggle into yours, making the rocking train and Charlie's plight as immediate to you as it is to him. It’s the magic of storytelling, drawing you into the now, even as he recalls past moments like the time Charlie learned to pee against a tree—a small victory that now feels distant.

Later, in the café car, Charlie finally conquers his fear, and the relief is palpable. "I did it, Dad," he beams, pride twinkling in his eyes. It's a triumph, a moment of growth. And Matthew realizes, as he recounts this, that storytelling is like time travel, pulling you into the past or the present with the right choice of words.

The art of storytelling is about more than just recounting events. It's about crafting experiences that resonate, using tools like tense shifts to draw the audience into the vivid immediacy of a moment. Whether it's a five-year-old's bladder drama or the thrill of meeting a magician, the present tense can turn these stories into shared experiences, blurring the lines of time and space.

From Amtrak Adventures to TEDx Talks: The Art of Storytelling

In 2007, a group of individuals maliciously took years of blog posts authored by Matthew out of context to portray him as a deviant, unfit to teach, which led to a grueling investigation. For instance, Matthew's critique of the "Juicy" brand on young girls' clothing was twisted to make him seem inappropriate.

Despite a clean investigation, the fabricated packet was widely distributed, causing a summer of turmoil. Ultimately, the support of the parents and Matthew's careful communication style saved his career.

This experience taught Matthew the power of words. As a storyteller, the choice of words significantly impacts how the audience perceives him. Here are some key points to consider:
- Profanity: Use sparingly. It can be effective in specific contexts like repeated dialogue or moments of extreme emotion but often is considered lazy and can alienate certain audiences.

- Vulgarity: Avoid being overly graphic. Euphemisms and humor can convey the same message without making the audience uncomfortable.

- Names: Change names to protect anonymity and avoid negatively portraying others, especially students.

- Celebrity References: Avoid them as they can confuse or alienate part of the audience and are often considered lazy shorthand.

- Accents: Generally, avoid imitating accents to prevent insensitivity unless it's related to one's own background or family.

Moreover, storytelling isn't just about avoiding pitfalls; it's about making your stories engaging and memorable. This is crucial whether you are performing on stage, teaching, or simply sharing a story with friends. Here are some tips:
- Don't memorize word-for-word: Remember key scenes and the flow of the story to keep it natural and engaging.

- Make eye contact: Connect with the audience by making eye contact with a few friendly faces.

- Control your emotions: Use techniques to manage emotions without losing the authenticity of the story.

- Learn microphone usage: Ensure clear, impactful delivery by properly using the mic.

Being a compelling storyteller is akin to having a superpower. It allows Matthew to engage, inform, and inspire others, making every interaction meaningful. Whether it's teaching, presenting, or sharing a personal story, the ability to tell a great story can transform ordinary moments into extraordinary ones.

How Did a 2007 Blog Post Controversy Shape a Teacher's Storytelling Superpower?

Storytelling isn't just about performing on a stage but a powerful tool for personal growth, connecting with others, and enhancing various aspects of life. It's about sharing authentic moments that resonate and make people want to learn more about you. The practice of "Homework for Life," where you reflect on your day and identify storyworthy moments, can transform how you perceive your daily experiences, making each day feel richer and more significant.

Effective storytelling involves recognizing pivotal moments of change in your life and crafting narratives that reflect these transformations. Starting with the end in mind and finding the opposite beginning helps create a satisfying arc. Techniques like presenting the main problem, sharing hopes and fears, hinting at future events, slowing down at critical moments, and making false predictions keep the audience engaged.

While some storytellers might stretch the truth for better engagement, it's crucial to maintain the heart and authenticity of the story. Crafting a cinematic experience for the audience by setting scenes and using causative words like "but" and "therefore" adds momentum and surprise to the narrative.

Humor can enhance storytelling but should be used strategically to balance the emotional journey. The present tense can draw the audience into the immediacy of the moment, making the experience more vivid and relatable. Word choice significantly impacts how the audience perceives the story, so it's important to use language thoughtfully and avoid pitfalls like excessive profanity, vulgarity, and insensitive accents.

Ultimately, being a great storyteller is about engaging, informing, and inspiring others, making every interaction meaningful and memorable. This ability can transform ordinary moments into extraordinary ones, enriching both the storyteller's and the audience's lives.

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