The book Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life through the Power of Storytelling by Matthew Dicks is to storytelling what The Elements of Style by Strunk & White is to writing. Reading it immediately improves our craft because the advice is approachable and applicable. For every audience about any topic in any medium, every page of Storyworthy shows us how and why to tell stories, including the behind-the-scenes processes that make stories memorable and vehicles that can change hearts, minds, and behaviors.
When I first picked up Storyworthy, I didn’t expect much. I’ve read dozens of books on storytelling and many of them offer similar advice. When one of my best friends recommended Storyworthy, I was skeptical. However, my friend is a law professor who teaches writing and argument construction, and she is an exceptional storyteller whom I’ve worked with on storytelling shows. With her recommendation, I figured I could spend a few minutes flipping through it. My dissertation at University of Cambridge is centered around storytelling so if nothing else, I figured maybe I’d pick up one or two pointers that might be useful.
By the time I got to page 2 of the preface, I was completely hooked even though Matt hadn’t yet given a scrap of advice on storytelling. His honesty is what got me. He opens the book with the first time he ever contemplated telling a story live on stage. He’s deeply conflicted about it. He has so much respect for the art form and he’s completely terrified of being judged. The stakes are high. His nervousness becomes my nervousness. I’ve felt that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel it every time I tell a story or do any kind of presentation in front of an audience. Terrified, he just goes for it. He takes his shot, and decides if his name gets picked he’ll just tell a story scared. He’s my kind of guy. I love risk-takers. I root for them.
The book unfolds chapter after chapter with advice, exercises, and samples of Matt’s stories. These aren’t platitudes like “people love an underdog” or “start at the end and work backwards” that I’ve read in other storytelling how-to books multiple times. Both of those ideas are generally true and helpful but Matt goes so much further than that kind of advice.
He explains exactly why and how he chooses his beginnings, endings, and the arc that connects them. He talks about pacing and timing, content and structure, word selection, story strategy, and storytelling devices to grab and hang onto an audience’s attention. Storyworthy is a playbook and it works for every story by every storyteller. It’s a compass, map, flashlight, and go-bag for everyone who has something to say that someone else needs to hear. It’s for all of us.
At one point, a friend of Matt’s whom I know and have told stories for, grabs his arm and tells him that he absolutely can’t tell anyone his secrets (or hers!) about how to create and tell a story. He laughs, ignores her, and thankfully we have Storyworthy. He’s given us the tools he has and uses every day.
This might sound counterintuitive. Shouldn’t he keep some of this to himself so he can continue to make money from workshops, consulting, writing, and shows? Shouldn’t he hold back just a little? He’s the real trick: by telling his secrets I can’t wait to take a class with him to show him how I’m using these tools and to get his feedback so I can level up even further.
Actually, I have to take a class with him. Here’s why: Matt is a lifelong learner. He wrote Storyworthy five years ago. I bet he’s got even more tools, tips, and advice to share now, especially after the pandemic. And I want to know all of them.
My dissertation about storytelling involves interviewing storytelling experts. I want to interview Matt. My friend who recommended Storyworthy to me said he probably won’t agree to an interview. He’s busy. A man-in-demand. I wrote him an email anyway. Even if he said no or never responded, at least he’d know how much his book means to me and how much it’s helped me become a better storyteller and a better human.
I’m a big believer in the idea that unexpressed gratitude is a horrible waste of a resource. Imagine what kind of world we’d have if people just said thank you more often.
So I go to Matt’s website. I navigate to his online contact form and put the advice in his book to work to craft my pitch. I was honest to the point of gushing about the book. All of it true. I gave some hints about my life. I told him about my dissertation’s research question and why it’s so important to me. I closed it by saying that this kind of request from someone he doesn’t know may feel a bit out of left field. It may not be of any interest to him, and if that’s the case that’s okay. Again I tell him that if all this message does is explain how much I appreciate the time and effort he took to write Storyworthy, then that’s what matters the most.
I click “submit form” and close my laptop. I take my dog outside for walk. I worry about my dissertation. I have to interview 30 — 40 experts. People are busy. What if they all say no? What if no one wants to talk to me? I better come up with a plan B just in case the worst happens. I should start that plan today because I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to Cambridge and keep my dignity.
I go back up to my apartment and open my email. A note from Matt. “Well this is the second fastest rejection I’ve ever gotten,” I think. The first was from a literary agent I queried a few years ago when I was shopping my first novel. The response from the agent came back less than a minute after I sent it, and it had just one word. “No.” I should dig it out from my email archive and send it into the Guinness World Records. Fastest rejection ever—what a record to hold.
I take a deep breath and open up Matt’s message. He says he appreciated my kind words about the book and he’s glad it helped me. Well, at least it’s a nice rejection, I think.
Then he writes if we can make the timing work, he’d be happy to be interviewed. Hand to heart, I danced around my apartment. We figured out a date in short order and it’s in the calendar. I’ve got a few months to prepare for this interview, and I can’t wait for everything I’ll learn during it. Saying thanks really is an under-rated way to build a connection.
Christa Avampato 