Storytellers Shine During Story Moments

by Ron Ploof | May 8, 2017 | Business Storytelling

There’s a scene in the movie While You Were Sleeping that demonstrates masterful storytelling. Jack (played by Bill Pullman) and Lucy (played by Sandra Bullock) stand outside her apartment door. Up until this moment, we’ve watched the two fall in love through a comedy of screwball errors. You see, Jack thinks that Lucy is engaged to marry his brother, Peter, while Lucy doesn’t even know Peter. This folly has created a situation where Lucy and Jack know how they feel about each other, yet also fear the ramifications of acting upon it.

That’s when Lucy decides that she’s ready to share her secret, but needs to know if Jack is on board.

“Can you give me any reason why I shouldn’t marry your brother?” she asks.

The audience waits in anticipation because Jack’s response to this ultimatum will completely alter the story’s trajectory. But instead of having Jack give us a definitive “yes” or “no,” the writers, Daniel G. Sullivan and Fredric Lebow throw us a curveball.

“I can’t,” Jack answers.

The answer is an example of brilliant storytelling because it accomplishes multiple things:

1. It changes the story’s trajectory
2. Instead of bringing resolution, it ups the ante
3. It shows that Jack is a “stand-up guy” who puts his brother’s needs before his own
4. It keeps the audience’s hope alive that Lucy and Jack might still get together
5. It makes the odds of their union slimmer since Lucy interprets his “I can’t” as “no”

All of this meaning is conveyed through the storytellers’ choice to use two words instead of one.

Sullivan and Lebow have architected a story moment–when one character’s choice alters a story’s trajectory, yet not in the way that the audience expects. The best story moments occur when the characters and the audience want the same outcome, but circumstances inhibit those things from happening.

Story moments occur every day in business. Customers have problems and vendors can solve those problems–for a price. Yet, each side is motivated differently. Customers have budgets, vendors have sales goals, and both need to mitigate risk. Sales transactions always hinge upon the complications of story moments.

So, what are the story moments in your business? Perhaps they hold the key to your next business story?

Photo Credit:“Shine on Silver Moon”. , ca. 1909. June 21. Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/2005694675/

Storytellers Study Allergic Reactions

by Ron Ploof | May 1, 2017 | Business Storytelling

At the end of the movie, Return of the Jedi, Luke Skywalker walks among a celebration. There’s music, dancing, and cute little Ewoks running around. That’s when he turns to see not only the smiling ghosts of his mentors, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda, but that they’re also accompanied by his father, Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader. Luke smiles at the delightful sight.

And I hated it. I saw no justice in the fact that the evil Vader, the monster responsible for destroying whole planets, had somehow earned the right to spend eternity in Jedi Heaven with the good guys.

I had an allergic reaction to the scene.

Allergic reactions come in all sizes. Some are small, like when we deal with annoyances. Others can be large, like when a conversation turns to politics or religion. Perhaps you’re even having an allergic reaction to what I’ve just written because you see the movie’s ending as one of redemption and hope instead of schmaltzy.

Allergic reactions present problems for storytellers because they inhibit the transfer of meaning. At a minimum, they distract. At a maximum, they eliminate any wiggle room for dialog–whether that be internal or external.

Story allergens, the things that initiate allergic reactions, can be used as a storytelling tool to unlock inner human forces. When used for good, these forces can move nations, such as with Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” or President Kennedy’s “Let’s put a Man on the Moon” speeches. When placed into the hands of the otherwise motivated, however, story allergens can also be used to manipulate a young man with a loving family to strap a bomb to his chest and step into a crowded bus.

Storytellers must consider two types of story allergens: unintentional and intentional.

Unintentional allergens occur when a story evokes a strong response accidentally–like triggering my revulsion to Jedi Heaven. In all likelihood, George Lucas knew about it, weighed the benefits and the risks, and ultimately chose to keep it. That’s the most refreshing part of being a storyteller–we are in control of our writing.

The intentional use of story allergens, on the other hand, is risky and therefore must be approached with extreme caution. I try to avoid using them because they require so much care and attention. Yet, they do have their places. If your message has the potential to change the world, story allergens can unleash the energies needed to support your cause. But beware. Allergic reactions typically come in equal but opposite pairs. The same power to motivate can be used to oppose it.

What are the allergens in your industry? Are they being used? If so, intentionally or unintentionally?

Photo Credit: NATIONAL VACCINE & ANTITOXIN INST. , None. [Between 1905 and 1945] Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/hec2009004751/

Storytellers Love Improbable Moments

by Ron Ploof | Apr 24, 2017 | Business Storytelling

I stepped into the elevator with two other office building tenants–probably co-workers by the context of their conversation. I pressed the button to my floor, they pressed the button to theirs and the elevator began its ascent.

That’s when something odd happened. The elevator decelerated, simultaneously halting their conversation and causing the three of us to exchange confused glances. The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and a woman joined us on our vertical journey–but not before she apologized to us.

So, why did the coworkers stop talking? Why did we exchange confused glances? And why would a woman apologize to three strangers for merely stepping into an elevator?

Because she defied the odds.

I, like most of the building’s occupants, had ridden in this elevator at least four times per day: up in the morning, down at lunch, back up in the afternoon, and finally down for my commute home. The rides accumulate. Consider that four elevator rides per business day adds up to approximately 1,000 elevator rides per year. If two hundred people occupy the building, that’s 200,000 elevator rides per year–plenty enough for the tenants to understand some statistical probabilities. We learned that rides heading up only stopped at the floors indicated by the lit buttons. Rides heading down, however, frequently stopped to pick up lunch-going or homeward-bound passengers. Thousands of elevator rides helped establish two types of expectations: no interim stops on the way up with likely stops on the way down.

Until the day that woman intercepted our elevator going up.

Not only did this improbable act cause confusion within the elevator, but she, knowing that she had broken a well-established pattern, felt compelled to apologize to us for breaking it.

Storytellers love improbable moments because odds-defying experiences break us out of our routines, make us pay attention, and therefore, frequently contain the seeds to a story.

The next time that you’re looking for a business story, search for an improbable moment. You just may uncover the beginning of a great story.

Photo Credit: Bain News Service, Publisher. Elevator girl, Martha Washington Hotel. , ca. 1915. [Between and Ca. 1920] Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/ggb2005024433/

Storytellers Don’t Confuse the Story with the Telling

by Ron Ploof | Apr 17, 2017 | Business Storytelling

Last week someone asked me, “So, is it true that there are only four main business stories?”

“I hate that,” I said, before diving into a micro tirade on why such statements drive me crazy. Although I couldn’t articulate it at the time, I found the core of my objection a few days later. Such trivial statements confuse the story with the telling.

Take a business presentation for example. Those new to storytelling view the stories as separate from the presentation. They fret over creating fully-baked stories to open, close, or use as an example during a presentation. While this instinct is good–they understand the importance of transitioning between presentation segments–they also lose sight that the presentation is a story unto itself.

The purpose of any story is to convey meaning. Period. Done. Finis. Master storytellers understand that meaning-conveyance doesn’t always require a complete story arc with protagonists, antagonists, conflicts, and resolution. Sometimes we just need to present our information strategically, using storytelling techniques.

Rather than creating a complete story, master storytellers rely on story kernels, mini stories that once placed inside a listener’s mind, unpack into a combination of personal insight and a need to learn more. We’ve discussed specific storytelling techniques before with the Meaning Gap and Story Statements.

Unfortunately, fledgling storytellers expend so much effort creating stories to accompany their narrative-packed PowerPoint slides that they overlook opportunities where story kernels are more appropriate. Narrative facts stand on their own; there’s nothing for the listener’s brain to chew on. Story kernels, on the other hand, deliver the same narrative facts but contain other tidbits of meaning that explode within in a listener’s mind. Consider the following examples:

Narrative Fact: You are my favorite person.
Story Kernel: You are my second-favorite person.

Narrative Fact: Sarah has cancer.
Story Kernel: Sarah didn’t hear a single word after the doctor said the word cancer.

Narrative Fact: My family is competitive
Story Kernel: The last time my family played a board game, our competitive juices got out of hand.

Narrative Fact: We have the best/fastest/most efficient product/service
Story Kernel: Most of our clients think that they need the best/fastest/most efficient product/service.

Story kernels deliver facts that expand within the listener’s mind–an involuntary reaction due to psychology, neurology, and biochemistry. There’s no defense. Narrative facts, on the other hand, are easy to filter.

So, the next time you’re pulling a presentation together, don’t worry about the story and start thinking about the telling. Create story kernels that link your narrative facts into a cohesive message. The good news is that by the time you’re finished, you’ll probably have created an entire story.

Photo Credit: Harris & Ewing, photographer. Oklahoma senator. Washington, D.C., Dec. 13. United States Senator Josh Lee, Democrat of Oklahoma. He is considered one of the best orators in the Senate. 12/13/37. Washington D.C, 1937. Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/hec2009010459/

Storytellers are Policy Wonks

by Ron Ploof | Apr 10, 2017 | Business Storytelling

The Robo Cup challenge is an ambitious competition. Its goal is to create an autonomous robot soccer team that can beat the best human teams by 2050. However, in its present state, the Robo Cup games are both painful and comical to watch. The players move so slowly and clumsily that it’s easy to dismiss the entire concept as hopeless. But those who form such snap judgments don’t understand history because all first attempts at a new technology look silly. Those who witnessed the first Wright Brother’s plane could never have imagined riding first class in a 747 and operators of the ENIAC computer couldn’t have imagined that middle schoolers would one day carry infinitely more powerful computers in their pockets.

Dr. Peter Stone is the founder and director of the Learning Agents Research Group (LARG) within the Artificial Intelligence Laboratory at The University of Texas at Austin. He’s focussed on creating autonomous collaborative machines. While the news media fantasize about autonomous vehicles, self-driving cars are child’s play compared with the things that he is working on…like Robo Cup robots.

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of hearing Dr. Stone describe his research in reinforcement learning. “Innovative algorithms are better than brute force computation,” he said, explaining how Robo Cup robots get better results through a try-and-learn process as opposed to being hardwired to react the same way in similar situations. In other words:

• The robot has a goal
• It chooses an action based on a situation
• It receives either a reward or a punishment as a result of that action.
• Rinse & repeat

Dr. Stone’s robots seek optimized rewards, which isn’t as simple as choosing the highest one. Sometimes choosing a lower reward or even a punishment, like sacrificing a pawn in chess, puts a robot into a better position to achieve the highest reward over time. And that’s when Dr. Stone said something that struck at my storytelling core. He said that his robots sought policies for how to react in certain situations.

I’d never thought about using the word that way. I’d always associated policy with mind-numbing subjects such as insurance, economics, or foreign relations. But with this definition, I stopped seeing Dr. Stone as an artificial intelligence researcher and started seeing him as a storyteller. Because storytellers are policy wonks who put characters (or robots) into situations, assign them policies, and see how they react.

Characters, much like Dr. Stone’s robots, must solve problems within a situational context where nothing comes for free. There are always constraints and tradeoffs for one’s actions. But here’s the rub. It’s the constraints and tradeoffs that make the best stories. If characters possessed all of the resources required to get what they want, we’d have no story to tell.

Policies are derived from our core beliefs. We test those beliefs during the course of real life and our characters test their policies during the course of a story. We either adjust our beliefs and grow or don’t and remain one-dimensional. The characters in our stories do the same thing. They either adjust their policies and succeed or remain steadfast and have the story end in tragedy.

So, what are your policies? What are your customer’s constraints? What tradeoffs do both of you make every day? The answers to these questions will lead you to much better stories.

Photo Credit: United States Office For Emergency Management, Dixon, Royden, photographer. Blackwell Smith, assistant director of priorities in charge of policy. United States, None. [Between 1940 and 1946] Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/oem2002000308/PP/.