Before you choose a storytelling coach, ask them one question!
The Most Important Question to ask a storytelling coach
There are lots of coaches in today’s world: job coaches, life coaches, tennis coaches, and so many more. Most people wouldn’t think it was important to ask a soccer coach, for example, “What do you think is the job of a soccer coach?”
But when you’re choosing a storytelling coach, I believe omitting that question is a mistake. Instead, I strongly suggest you ask any artistic coach (regardless of art-form) to explain how they see their job. Why? Because what coaches think they're being hired to do strongly influences how they proceed—which, in turn, determines what kind of results you can expect.
My Answer? Another Question
For me, my concept of the coach’s job depends strongly on my understanding of the storyteller’s job.
Sure, I could be glib: “Storytellers tell stories. If they tell them well, they are doing their job.”
But I find that such answers impose a philosophy that, in my experience, leads to mediocre (or worse) results.
So what answer bodes better for the teller?
The Job of the Teller?
Instead of seeing “telling a story” as a task that can be graded against a linear scale (from bad to good), what if we view the job of the storyteller in terms of relationships?
Let’s look at the three key elements of any storytelling event:
The Listener;
The Teller;
The Story.
If we conceive of those elements as corners of a triangle, we can re-conceive the teller’s job as built around three relationships.
The First Key Relationship
The first relationship is between the teller and the story. In most cases (except for completely improvisational storytellers) the teller has a pre-existing relationship to the story: the teller has already grappled with the story, changing it—and also being changed by it. That’s a two-way relationship:
The Second Key Relationship
As soon as the teller encounters the listeners, both parties begin forming (or updating, if they’ve met before) a relationship between them. Great storytellers are great builders of relationships with their listeners: they push and pull, speak and listen—all in the service of connecting to those listeners.
That’s a second two-way relationship:
The Third Relationship: The Ultimate Goal
So far, the storyteller’s job is straightforward: connect to the story (and that can be done over time, long before the storytelling event) and connect to the listeners.
In many cases, the listeners are strangers to the teller. So this relationship needs to be built from scratch. This is not necessarily easy to do, but it’s easy to understand: humans build connections all the time. It takes some finesse to do it quickly with strangers, but it’s a familiar task to all of us.
But the third relationship is very different! Why? Because the teller is not part of that relationship! How do you create a relationship that you’re not part of?
What’s a Teller to Do?
As it turns out, the teller isn’t powerless to entice listeners to create their own relationship with the story.
Why? Because you can entice people to care about a story, in much the same way you can entice two of your friends to seek out relationships with each other, even if they’ve never met. For example, you use your relationship with one friend to influence that first friend to be open to the second friend. At the same time, you try to influence the second friend to be open to the first.
In the case of telling a story, this translates to:
A. “Tug on” your relationship with the story to make it suit your listeners; and
B. “Tug on” your relationship with your listeners to make them open to your story.
This “tugging on” is never a sure-fire process. But the art of human communication is such that it frequently succeeds.
Note that this double-tug process only works if the teller somehow adjusts the story to suit the listeners and simultaneously triggers interest in the listeners that makes them more open to the story:
If this sounds like a task that’s very difficult to do consciously, you’re right! But most of this gets done unconsciously. Having been engaged in human relationships at least since birth, we’ve all developed unconscious strategies for connecting with each other.
In short, we don’t necessarily do this task entirely with our conscious mind—nor entirely with our unconscious mind. We use all the parts of what I call our “creative intelligence," mostly without thinking about them consciously, to move toward success.
One major category of tools for this is “oral language.” Our tone of voice, eye behaviors, posture, and the rest of our oral language skills are too complex to be shaped using only our conscious minds. At the same time, our conscious minds can stick an oar in from time to time, to help steer the unconscious rowboat of our communication skills in a needed direction.
In this way, we perform the near-miracle of enticing our listeners to engage with a story—even though we can only influence that engagement indirectly.
How Does This Relate to Coaching?
If the job of the teller is to engage the teller’s creative intelligence to do all this unconscious “tugging,” then the job of the coach is clear:
“The coach’s job is to help the teller
engage her creative intelligence
to entice listeners to engage with a story!”
Now you can understand why the coach can never tell the storyteller what to do: the storyteller needs to make thousands of unconscious decisions in real time, using the storyteller’s creative intelligence.
No one knows in advance how to respond to each unique encounter. The more engaged the teller’s Creative Intelligence, the better the result when telling a story.
The Job of the Coach!
Fortunately, we have now answered our central question: the job of the coach is to help liberate the creative intelligence of the teller—so the teller will be able to make the myriad conscious and unconscious communication decisions that will work best in a given storytelling situation.
Do you hear that, storytellers? Your coach doesn’t help you actually tell your story; instead, your coach helps free and engage your creative intelligence as you tell—so that your conscious and unconscious decision-making will be free to do its rapid, largely unconscious magic!
But how does the coach do this?
Here’s the good news: there are probably an infinite number of ways to help a teller free her creative intelligence. No two coaches will proceed in exactly the same way: after all, each coach’s creative intelligence is also unique.
The main requirement for a storytelling coach, then, is this:
“Does the coach understand the job of the teller—
and therefore the job of the coach?
The exact language or techniques a coach uses probably don’t matter very much.”
What really matters is that the coach correctly understands her job—and helps you understand and respond to your job. When that happens, the two intelligences can partner to achieve the teller’s goals.
Rather than finding yourself either a) mechanically complying with your coach or b) at odds with your coach, you will find yourself c) partnering with your coach.
The job of unleashing your creative intelligence is difficult, noble, and endlessly exciting. When you’re engaged in the right task in partnership with a coach, though, you’re both on a worthy, energizing adventure!