Story
CASE: M-323 (A)
DATE: 8/23/09
HOW TO TELL A STORY (A)
From an instant to eternity, from the intracranial to the intergalactic, the life story of each and every character offers encyclopedic possibilities. The mark of a master is to select only a few moments but give us a lifetime.
—Robert McKee1
Stories are all around us. Stories move us, make us feel alive, inspire us to be more than we would be otherwise. As famed screenwriting coach and author of the screenwriting bible, Story,
McKee says: “Story is not only our most prolific art form, but rivals all activities—work, play, eating, exercise—for our waking hours. We tell and take in stories as much as we sleep—and even then we dream.”2 Our appetite for stories is a reflection of the basic human need to understand patterns of life — not merely as an intellectual exercise but as a personal, emotional experience. Alexander Steele, in Writing Fiction argues that we need stories as we need food.
“Our curiosity, and perhaps insecurity, compels us to continually explore the who, what, where, when, and why of our existence. Some call this lofty goal a search for Truth.”3
Learning how to tell a story cannot guarantee the reaching of Truth, but it can help you connect with your audience, move your audience, and make your material more memorable.
Despite our love for stories, most of us leave stories to “storytellers,” artists in the storymaking fields such as fiction writing, screenwriting, and movie making. In general, we passively take in their stories and are moved by the end product. But how many of us do not put much thought into how those stories are made, perhaps because we do not see the benefit of stories beyond
1
Ibid, p. 31.
Robert McKee, Story, (Regan Books: 1997), p. 11.
3
Alexander Steele, editor, Writing Fiction, (Bloomsbury, New York), 2003, p. 2.
2
Victoria Chang prepared this case under the supervision of Professor Jennifer Aaker as the basis for class discussion rather
DATE: 8/23/09
HOW TO TELL A STORY (A)
From an instant to eternity, from the intracranial to the intergalactic, the life story of each and every character offers encyclopedic possibilities. The mark of a master is to select only a few moments but give us a lifetime.
—Robert McKee1
Stories are all around us. Stories move us, make us feel alive, inspire us to be more than we would be otherwise. As famed screenwriting coach and author of the screenwriting bible, Story,
McKee says: “Story is not only our most prolific art form, but rivals all activities—work, play, eating, exercise—for our waking hours. We tell and take in stories as much as we sleep—and even then we dream.”2 Our appetite for stories is a reflection of the basic human need to understand patterns of life — not merely as an intellectual exercise but as a personal, emotional experience. Alexander Steele, in Writing Fiction argues that we need stories as we need food.
“Our curiosity, and perhaps insecurity, compels us to continually explore the who, what, where, when, and why of our existence. Some call this lofty goal a search for Truth.”3
Learning how to tell a story cannot guarantee the reaching of Truth, but it can help you connect with your audience, move your audience, and make your material more memorable.
Despite our love for stories, most of us leave stories to “storytellers,” artists in the storymaking fields such as fiction writing, screenwriting, and movie making. In general, we passively take in their stories and are moved by the end product. But how many of us do not put much thought into how those stories are made, perhaps because we do not see the benefit of stories beyond
1
Ibid, p. 31.
Robert McKee, Story, (Regan Books: 1997), p. 11.
3
Alexander Steele, editor, Writing Fiction, (Bloomsbury, New York), 2003, p. 2.
2
Victoria Chang prepared this case under the supervision of Professor Jennifer Aaker as the basis for class discussion rather