When you take a novel form your bookshelf you expect a work of fiction. Whether the latest Grisham or a classic Tolstoy, the common ground is that the story is just a story. And even though the story is, and is expected to be fiction, nearly every novel bears the disclaimer:
[Name of Book] is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are the product of the imagination of the author or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any event, company, country, or location is entirely coincidental.”
Our lives are not a work of fiction, yet we still enjoy a good story, and many of us enjoy hearing and telling tales from “back in the day.” We recognize much of the remembrance includes a little exaggeration and we are okay with that. Quite often, we look forward to seeing how close the exaggeration will stay to the extent of the exaggeration the last time the story was told.
When one thinks of “a story” the first thought is usually a tall tale, the story that could be true, its veracity conversely proportional to the gleam in the tale teller’s eyes. Perhaps your thoughts go to an inspirational tale, one steeped in truth with a dash of incredulity that makes the listener think long and hard about the moral of that story. To some, a story is indeed just a story, an entertaining something, fictional or fanciful with just enough truth in it to keep it possible if not quite plausible.
Stories are much more than just the retelling of family lore or to entertain and enjoy. We learn from stories. Much of what we know, many would argue most of the important stuff we know, did not come from formal education and research. It came from stories told by our personal storytellers.
At home we learn of our parents’ parents and their struggles and accomplishments not from examining the family tree or looking at old pictures in a photo album. We learn from the stories told by those who experienced the events marked by the photos and who knew the people behind the names in the family history. At work it was not through orientation and department tours that we discovered the expectations and challenges of the job, the resources of the company, and the characters of the teams, but from the stories of the team members welcoming us into the organization. In school our most reliable sources of motivation were from tales told by upper class students more so than through even a thorough examination of the catalog.
Someday, if not already, will come your turn to be the storyteller. Through talent, creativity, or maybe longevity, you will become the expert. Others will want to hear your stories. To those looking to learn from you, and to those from whom you learned, you owe a good story, a completely story, an honest story.
Today, everyone can tell a story. In generations past, you needed a typewriter, a fresh ribbon, a ream of paper, and a willing audience. (Or maybe just a comfortable armchair and a lot of grandchildren.)
Today, all you need is imagination and access to the internet. Even “willing audience” has dropped from the list of needs. With the internet comes an audience. Willing or not, the people are there. And with that comes a new level of responsibility. The storyteller of old had ways of conveying the information with some embellishment and could rely on a physical connection that the listener would be able to separate fact from fiction, information from entertainment. Today’s listener cannot always see the gleam in the storyteller’s eye to measure the teller’s veracity. Today people take what is put before them as fact, even if the tale is far removed from truth.
Disclaimers like we mentioned above aren’t on computer, tablet, or phone screens. We must remember the power of our messages and how they are potentially accepted as fact. There is nothing wrong with telling stories not borne of fact if you clearly state your tale is one told to entertain, not to inform.
Hopefully, all your encounters with modern storytellers will be with those with a story to tell that is clearly identified as fact or fiction. Also hopefully, your attempts at telling a story will be of tales worth telling and not in need of a disclaimer. Any gleam in your eye is optional.
I did want to add something. Children are great story tellers--they're not so good at truth telling. Their imaginations combine with fact making what they often say a work of unintentional fiction. They see the world through a much different grid than we do as adults. They know what imagination is all about.
Our local library had a remarkable storyteller when I was growing up. She could do voices and added intensity and humor when called for. All us kids sat enthralled, knowing that what she was doing was telling a story. It's harder now when you hear what you think is real and find out it was full of embellishments. I think it's why kids today have so much difficulty discerning fact from fiction. With all the video games with killing and multiple lives, life has become small and insignificant. Well said, friends.