There are only Nuggets

Its not the whole story, its always the nuggets.

Do me a favor and drop a title into the comments.  Before you read on, just pop in the comments the title of a favorite story.  Any story—children’s story, movie, song, tv show, chapter in history. Whatever comes to mind.  If I were doing this, I’d put The Little Prince, or Kentucky Avenue, or Battlestar Galactica. Go ahead.

Thank you.

Now let's look at stories as things. When we refer to a story, most often we mean a full thing: something with coherence, and something true to the world of the narrative. Walter Fisher said these were the essentials in a story: coherence and fidelity. I would add that people generally assume a story also has a beginning, middle and end.  When a story is requested, often people expect it to start with “once upon a time” and then end with “the end.”

I see it differently.  

In my experience, the connection I feel with a story is not with the entirety of the story, but usually a moment in the story. Sometimes it is several moments, but it is never the whole thing. There are many parts of the story that I breeze past or skim. I recognize that there is set up and environment and background  and that the whole thing might inform my favorite part—but my favorite part is still a part. It is a piece. It is a link. It is a little golden nugget threaded together by the same golden thread. When that thread is removed, I will take the golden nugget—my favorite nugget out of so many nuggets—and store it in my pocket. The piece is what is transferred.

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

Let’s step back from the story and try to see it in context with the world. When we tell a story, we essentially begin at an almost random place. If the story starts with a baby born in a sunlit room, then this begs the question: “Who is the mother? Where did she come from? How did we get to this moment?”

The same is the case with the end.  When the old man dies and is embraced by his brother in a beautiful afterlife, we can ask, “What happens next and what is happening on earth?”

So if we can agree that ultimately a story is not a single thing but a choice to describe a few images that cohere nicely together, then perhaps we can gather around the idea that the real gift of storytelling is the nugget.  It is the piece.  It is the single image. 

Photo by MUILLU on Unsplash

Therefore I encourage you to slide the golden thread out and let the golden nuggets fall to the ground.  Pick up your favorite ones and pop them in your pocket. They are the ones you carry with you. In my experience, this reduces the pressure to “tell a good story”.  It changes the task from delivering something polished and comprehensive to offering a string of different charms.  The listener can pick whichever one they want and discard the rest.  

Its on them.  

You just provide the choices. 

Now, can you do one more thing? As a follow up to your initial comment (where you posted the name of a story), try seeing the story as a string of nuggets.  Remove the string and which nugget do you want to keep:

1. When the fox says “tame me”.

2. When Tom sings “Put your shoes and socks on, and come along with me”

3. When Starbuck plays the piano with her imaginary dad. 

What is yours?