When someone is telling a story, just do the civilised thing—shut up and listen. Even if you know how the story ends, just shut up and listen. Every tonal variation, each sigh, all the pauses, the immersive eye contact, and the occasional outside gaze—they are there to make my story land, to make the ending hit like a punch. All for your entertainment. And mine too, for I love how smart and eloquent I sound when I tell a story. A story is like a journey—it starts with a simple step. It's a journey of pleasure, though it's rough at first, because I have to forage inside my arsenal, finding the perfect vocabulary that will better serve my story for your maximum pleasure. Towards the middle, I will wander away from the topic, just to stimulate your intelligent faculties—to keep you invested and impatient for the lofty ending. Climbing from the middle towards the inevitable climax—for all my stories have climaxes—I'll expect you to mute your vocal chords and employ your ears. ...
Comments
Post a Comment