A Good Storyteller

The Storyteller

Once upon a time

The plot thickens

Strange goings-on

That can't be good

I’m a good storyteller. 

That statement may sound either arrogant or the sign of someone who is extremely confident in their own ability.

However, it is a statement that each of us who attempt fiction or memoir need to know is true for them. 

As writers in the current competitive world of bookselling, it is also a statement that is possibly challenged and undermined on a regular basis.

Let me tell you a story:

About twenty-six years ago, before my first novel was published, I had been writing a lot, having discovered the joy of writing fiction. When my father’s sixtieth birthday was approaching, I decided I’d like to write a story about him. My dad is a larger-than-life character, and I had plenty of material from my childhood observations and from all the stories my grandmother used to tell me about my father. When I think about it, the storytelling gene came down from my grandmother. The first part of the book, I recounted tales told to me as a child. Then I interviewed my mother, and got some of the finer detail about Dad’s young adult years, and their story of romance and marriage. 

At the time of writing, I had not had the advantage of having attended writing workshops or even knowing what the editing and publishing process was about. I simply wrote from the heart, and told story after story about my dad—most of which had a lot of humour attached. I finished the book, and gave it to him printed on A4 paper and spiral bound. And that was that.

Three years later, I self-published my first piece of fiction, still without the benefit of the proper editorial processes and reviews. That title, to this date, has sold over 8000 copies in Australia and has had five editions.

Fast forward to recent years. Being a member of Omega Writers, having attended many conferences, read many blogs, consulted may experienced editors and writers, adjusted and reworked much of my work, I don’t have that happy, ignorant confidence I had when I first began. In fact, my current work, in my humble opinion, is far superior to what I wrote in the early days, and yet I struggle to find an international publisher, agent or even market. Confidence has crashed in direct inverse proportion to the increase in the quality of my work. I have talked about this with writing friends and colleagues, and while we can comfort each other, and encourage one another, it doesn’t usually make any difference to the quest to let our work fly free into the greater reading world.

So back to the story I wrote for my dad. 

 I was up visiting my now 86-year-old father on the farm a couple of weeks ago. My mum is still living there as well, and she is in the throes of writing her memoirs. Being a sufferer of rheumatoid arthritis, she is not very mobile anymore, and spends a lot of time at the computer. I was cooking dinner for them one evening, and mum asked if she could read a section of her memoirs to me. She began to read, and I was engaged and amused. It wasn’t long before I realised she was reading what I had written 26 years ago. 

‘I decided not to rewrite this section,’ she said, ‘as you’re such a good storyteller’.

Having just listened to it being read back to me, I agreed.

 By jingo, I am a good storyteller.

And then it struck me. The piece she had read was written pre-education. It was pre-editing and polishing. It was simple, unedited storytelling, and it was delightful.

So the message came to me to share with you:

Are you a good storyteller?

 The question isn’t: have you found a niche in the market?

 It’s not: have you found an agent who has accepted your work?

 It’s not even: Do you have a mailing list of thousands of fans who can’t wait to pre-order your book?

No.

The question is: are you a good storyteller? 

The answer to that question for me is: yes. Yes, I am a good storyteller. 

Will I ever find that agent, or that international market, or list of thousands of fans?

 Maybe. Maybe not.

 But have I delighted my readers over the years—well written or not? 

The answer to that question is a resounding yes. Though I cringe when I read any of my work pre 2012—head hopping everywhere, speech attributions galore, adverb heaven, and telling, telling, telling (who knew what showing was?)—the general feedback I get from anyone who admits to having read one or more of my books is: I love your books! 

These people pop up now and then, and are enthusiastic in their praise. Bless them. I want to apologise for all the poor writing, but they don’t even understand what I’m talking about. They engaged with story and character, and loved it. 

So …

I am a great storyteller. I also think I’m getting better as a writer.

How is it going for you?

 Do your family and friends love what you write? Are kids enthralled when you’re telling them what it was like ‘in the old days’ (you know, back in the 1970s when dinosaurs roamed the earth).

Chances are, you’re a good storyteller too, and there are those in your life who love the stories you tell.

 Getting agents, publishers and international markets to buy it is a whole other matter. But does that really matter, in the long run? Or do you get pleasure out of telling a story?


Meredith Resce
Author of 'The Heart of Green Valley' series; For All Time and many other titles
President of Omega Writers Australasia


Meredith's Website