How to Tell a Story: The Essential Guide to Memorable Storytelling from The Moth

by Meg Bowles

Stories can and do change the world.

You are encouraged to remember texture, detail, sense memory, and what you felt like when the story first took place. These exercises make you listen to yourself, and in doing so, they unlock the true power of storytelling.

Our stories tell us who we are, who we were, and who we hope to be. They’re how we form our very identity. The stories we carry with us contain our lineage, hopes, dreams, and pain. They tell, too, of our anxieties about ourselves, the world, and our place in it. Stories are how we keep our collective history alive.

And the silence that terrified me? It was the sound of others listening. It was the sound of human connection. The audience was right there with me, suspended and bound in the shared experience of storytelling.

Catherine Burns, artistic director of The Moth.

As a professor of critical media studies, much of my teaching involves finding stories that can transform abstract concepts and history into relatable and compelling experiences.

Jay Allison, the longtime producer of The Moth Radio Hour,

Stories about failure and learning can be powerful.”

After my music career slowed down, I was forced to learn new skills, figure out new ways to sustain myself, and forge a new identity—but I never really processed or properly mourned this tumultuous shift in my circumstances.

the seeds of a story—something that had elements of humor, tragedy, and drama, and would likely resonate with a lot of people.

A day or so before the live show, the storytellers meet and share their stories for final notes and tweaks. This is a scary but ultimately beautiful part of The Moth’s process.

the horrifying feeling of pressure was necessary, because by the time I got to the big stage, I had already faced my fears.

Follow your passions, but be prepared to brace for impact.

“Sometimes you have to figure out who you’re not before you can become who you are.”

The Moth team lovingly pushed me toward a stronger ending—the real ending—and helped me recognize when I had found it.

This book is an invitation for you to take yourself seriously as a storyteller—to discover your stories, center what’s most important about them, initiate yourself in the fire of live performance, and use your truths to break down false narratives,

In this book, Moth directors help you shape and tell your own personal story, using decades of on-the-ground experience as the guides and midwives of the stories that grew The Moth from an exclusively New York series to a renowned global arts institution dedicated to building connection and community through true personal stories.

Moth founder George Dawes Green

the authenticity of the teller is vital. We listen with different ears when we can feel and believe that a story is true.

We may start as strangers, but by the end of the story, we are closer—and that is the ultimate point. The act of sharing personal stories builds empathy, and out of many stories, we become one community. It starts with a single story.

Mark Twain is said to have quipped, “I didn’t have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead.”

Stories are what turn friends into family.

madcap

aghast

we believe that everyone has a story, and we love helping people find theirs.

Russian nesting dolls

our lives are made up of a million stories. Trying to stuff your whole life into one story won’t work.

“How do you know our host?”

try to steer clear of the “What do you do for a living?” question.

At the end of your story, you are a different you than you were at the beginning.

All job interviews are about determining two things: Does this person have the skills needed to do the job, and do we want to spend every single workday with this person?

And while I knew with certainty that the worst thing that they could do to me would be to kill me, until they did that, I was my own person.

infamy,

People often want to tell a story that makes them look good, but to the listener it can feel self-indulgent and braggy.

Remember not to let a trauma or a struggle be the story, but rather the context of the story. Stories always need to go beyond “a bad thing happened.”

shacking

vendetta.

Often, there is a struggle between what you want and what’s working against you. Ask yourself: What did I most want? Who or what was challenging me? A story is more compelling when it is clear what a storyteller wants and why.

I was an expert on long-term memory. I knew everything about the anatomy and physiology. But I couldn’t do one thing to cure my father’s memory problems.

Stakes require tension. Where can you find it in the story?

Tension keeps the audience on the edge of their seats. Your listeners wonder: What happens next? Will they or won’t they? How will this end?

SNAFU: Situation Normal, All Fudged Up.

Say you have a story about a hellish airport experience where you end up losing your luggage. Okay, but people lose their luggage every day—so what? If you tell us that the luggage contained the only photograph you owned of your grandmother, suddenly you have given the story much higher stakes. We understand why this is more than a mere inconvenience. Your story of a hellish experience becomes more than just “this bad thing that happened.”

The beauty of this story is the way Karen builds the stakes. With each added detail, the stakes change and turn and elevate. Like a roller coaster, the action rises; you climb up the track click by click. She is creating and playing with the tension the listener feels, and she uses the tension to pull us through, until the moment we find out what ultimately happens. If she hadn’t successfully built up the stakes, it would have just been a story about sleeping through an alarm clock—which, ultimately, it is—but the stakes invest us in the outcome.

An arc, put simply, is: Who were you at the beginning of the story, and who were you at the end? How do you live your life differently as a result of the events in the story, and why is that consequence meaningful to you?

The change feeds the stakes of the story. It can be the discovery you made or the habit you broke, but ask yourself: Why should we care about this shift in you? Why do you care?

There’s a difference between the events of the story (the plot) and what the story is really about. As storytellers, we see how those pivotal moments continue to influence and alter us.

conjure

What’s the trailer of your story? The sentence you choose will act as your road map. You don’t need to include it in the actual story—there’s no need to start with a stated premise.

think of it as a path to help guide and focus your story. You can revisit the one sentence as you go along,