Crooked fingers in Argentina

Yes, I have crooked fingers. I've written about them before. 

I tried a new tactic in Argentina, after my experiences in Peru, where the kids noticed my crooked little fingers in about 95% of the performances. Here's the most common scenario: one kid would see that there was something different about my fingers. He or she would nudge the kids on either side to point out this oddity. They would look at their own fingers, then at mine, then whisper about it. They might start to show off their "double jointedness" as we called any kind of strange bending in our fingers when I was a kid. In the process, they were so engrossed in the idea of something different that they didn't listen to the story.

Partway through the Argentina tour, I decided to be proactive. In each performance after I showed the US map and talked a little about my family, I said "I want to tell you something else about my family. We happen to have crooked fingers." Gasp! The audience was fascinated, I think in part because I gave them permission to look at something strange about my body. Afterwards, I let them touch my fingers if they want to. It's just a finger, a bit more bony than most, and crooked, but still, just a finger.

In Argentina, five times, I had a treat--four kids and one teacher, at different schools, showed me their own crooked fingers. I've never seen so many outside my family. Occasionally I'll see crooked fingers at a school in the US, but not often. I only got a picture of one set, on the last day at St. Luke's School. There was another set at this school, but the two kids weren't related.

Not as crooked as mine, but it's still noticeable. In my family, there is a range of crookedness. Mine are the second-most.

It's genetic. My father and grandmother had this trait, as do two of my sisters and all three of my brothers. The medical term, I believe, is clinodactyly. I found a blog post other than mine about crooked little fingers and wasted quite a bit of time reading all the "me, too!" comments before I came to my senses. I guess that's my version of nudging the person next to me and whispering.

My nursery school art project, plaster painted with gold paint. Crooked as can be.

Propolis

I'm always looking for the best throat soother, especially when I have a heavy storytelling schedule and a headcold. I know the rules: warm up the voice before performing, drink lots and lots of water to hydrate the vocal chords, avoid mint and decongestants (they dry the throat), don't whisper, rest when possible, keep the throat warm. Still, there are times when I need to take decongestants because I straight out can't breathe through my nose and there are times when I need to use cough drops. When I'm having a coughing fit in the middle of a performance, as I did today, I have to do something quickly.

My very favorite are propolis candies. Here's a selection of caramelos de propoleo (caramelo is the general word for hard candy) I've found here in Argentina:


Not all of these are created equal. The very best are those in the brown wrappers, available from health food stores and some pharmacies. I put one in my mouth and had an immediate sense memory: Bulgarian Orthodox churches. Huh? They taste like beeswax candles, which are lit in profusion in Bulgarian Orthodox churches. The other two kinds have a small amount of propolis, but are mostly sugar candies.

I've also been using regular cough drops:


These are not considered to be cough drops in most of Latin America, as far as I can tell. They're eaten as candy or breath mints and they're available at kiosks, newsstands and grocery stores. I've also been drinking a concoction of lemon, chopped ginger and honey, heated with water. Yum! Though my cold is mostly gone, I'm going to be drinking this for the rest of the tour. I've done 54 performances in the last four weeks, with nine more before I leave for home on Friday.

Schools in Argentina so far

 

Today is the fifth school day of the tour. Because schools in Argentina teach at least half the day in Spanish, I tend to be at schools either in the morning or the afternoon, not both. Today I have three performances beginning at 1:30, so I have the morning here in the apartment. The school day runs until 4:30.

I've been having a grand time! So far, I've done fourteen shows at six schools, for students ranging from age 6 to 12. The level of English varies from school to school. Very few of the students so far have been native speakers of English. A few come up to tell me that they used to live in Florida or Connecticut. Of course, the younger kids generally understand less, but the puppets help me on that score.

The baby is always a hit.

The children wear uniforms and often the boys and girls are seated separately. I was at an all-girls school on Tuesday and Wednesday--perfect opportunities to tell Stephanie's Ponytail by Robert Munsch. 

Here's a 2nd grader joining in on Poor Little Bug on the Wall. 

That's it for today. Off I go to work!

Cell phone videos

Last week I gave a workshop on story hour stretches, games and songs for the Children's Services librarians at the Kansas City (MO) Public Library. I LOVE working with librarians, partly because I am still one to my core, even though I haven't worked as a librarian since 1994. It's not the diploma that proves it (though I have one). It's in my DNA. You laugh? Here's a quote from a piece my mother wrote about her mother-in-law, not officially a librarian but...

Like her father before her, she chose the books for Bristol's Rogers Free Library, and read most of them first. (Some categories she shunned, letting other Library people choose the romances and Westerns.)

Granny Howe referred to those as trashy novels, my father said. All but those were delivered to the house before they ever got to the library.

Sidetracked. Isn't this post about videos? One of the librarians at the Westport Branch sent me links for four videos she put on Youtube. Keep in mind that these were taken on a cell phone!

You can see another of the librarians recording the workshop on her iPad, so there may be more videos to come. 

A few quotes on storytelling

Frankie Bacon, earlier this spring when the daffodils were out. There is no real reason for this or the other pictures in this post. I just thought you might like them. 

Ah, the old ploy: when you can't think of what to write, borrow from somebody else. Here are a few good storytelling quotes. I'll add more next time I'm flailing around for blog topics.

The universe is made of stories, not of atoms.--Muriel Rukeyser.

I can only answer the question "What am I to do?" if I can answer the question "Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?"--Alasdair MacIntyre

All sorrows can be born if you put them in a story or tell a story about them.--Isak Dinesen

The healing touch of storytelling reaches deeply into the listener's heart as well, indelibly imprinting there the mark of the story and its message, weaving the listener into the dance of community.--Richard Stone

Because there is a natural storytelling urge and ability in all human beings, even just a little nurturing of this impulse can bring about astonishing and delightful results.--Nancy Mellon

Stories are the creative conversion of life itself into a more powerful, clearer, more meaningful experience. They are the currency of human contact.--Robert McKee.

And one of my all-time favorites:

The stories people tell have a way of taking care of them. If stories come to you, care for them. And learn to give them away where they are needed. Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive. That is why we put these stories in each other's memory. This is how people care for each other.--Barry Lopez in Crow and Weasel.

Frankie with gargoyle, in contemplation. 

Francis Bacon has made a nest in the coreopsis. Silly cat!

Moving a little in order to listen

Some people learn better kinesthetically, moving slightly as they listen. I often build in movement to stories for young children who learn through their bodies. If kids aren't bothering anybody else, I don't mind if they are fidgeting or drawing or rocking. It would be great if we could let kids listen however they are most comfortable, from lying down to sitting to kneeling to wandering. I recently heard at a lecture on brain science that the best posture for learning is with the hips at about 135 degrees--slouching back. I ask kids to sit "criss-cross applesauce" (cross-legged) so everybody can see, even though I find that pose uncomfortable myself.

I understand kinesthetic learning on a personal level. When I'm listening to a keynote speech, if I'm not moving slightly, I space out in classic girl ADD behavior. If the images are strong enough, if it's a well-told story, I stay with it. If not, I go into deep daydreaming.

When I was in graduate school, I took notes and doodled, which always helps me focus. Partway through the year, I bought a small sewing kit, tiny scissors included. I began cutting small paper dolls, though not during class. There's something satisfying for me about tiny figures. 

Eventually I found folding scissors at the grocery store. I've carried a pair of these since 1986. The blades are small enough that I can even carry them on an airplane.

The very first paper dolls I cut were the flame-head dancers (see yellow figures below). Then I branched out. When I cut hands, the pinky fingers are always a little crooked. Now when I go to storytelling conferences, this is what I do during keynote speeches so I can listen. I give the cutouts away because there are always more in my scissors. Many storytellers put them in their nametag holders.

I don't follow a pattern. I just look at a one-inch square of folded paper (like an accordion), and cut, leaving a little bit attached on either side. The conference program book is usually pretty good material, with nice colors. Occasionally I'll take notes if I hear something insightful.

Randel McGee is another storyteller who makes cutouts, but his are quite different, beautifully done in the style of Hans Christian Andersen. I don't know if he does this in order to listen, though I know he does paper cutting as part of some of his shows.

Website re-do

Soon, very soon, my website will have a new look. My wonderful webmaster, also known as my sister, and I are working at a complete makeover. You'll be able to read this blog on the website, watch videos, listen to stories, find out more about what I do, and find out more about storytelling in general. You can listen to stories on the website now, but it's going to be a bit different.

Here's the insider tip: every time you refresh the listen-and-watch page, you'll get a different video and a different audio clip (whole stories only). I'm putting ALL the stories that I've recorded on the site. That's a lot of page refreshing! Yes, I still am selling the recordings on CDbaby.com, filmbaby.com and amazon.com but I also like making them easily available.

Oh, and there are new pictures. Here are a few:

Some of you have seen this on Facebook. It might be my favorite.

I...want...my...appa' juice!

The hair color is a little funny--don't worry, Baby still is more of a redhead than a blonde.

Peeps has come out of his shell.

I'll try to keep the calendar up to date, too. Look for the new site in the next few weeks.

ESL Storytelling

Sometimes I'm a little slow. I recently realized that after having given more than 200 performances and workshops for non-native speaker of English, in Belgium, Brazil, Peru, Mexico, Bulgaria and Germany, as well as at schools in the US where there are many non-native English speakers, I might have a specialty. I have become an ESL storyteller.

Students listening to me at a school in Brazil in 2008

Let me be clear about a few things:

I'm not a bilingual storyteller. Well, I am, in a way--sometimes I'll tell stories in French and occasionally in Bulgarian, but when I go into ESL classes, I'm there to speak English.

I'm not a teacher of English as a Second Language. I'm a storyteller.

I am a storyteller who goes into settings where students don't speak English as their mother tongue. Here's how I make this most effective:

I speak distinctly and clearly.
I use lots of synonyms.
I use my facial expressions and body language to buttress the spoken language.
My choice of stories includes lots of repetition and universal humor.
No puns or wordplay.
With younger kids, my puppets do a little pre-teaching. For example, when I introduce Robert Munsch's brilliant story Stephanie's Ponytail, I point out some of the girls who have ponytails and some who don't in the audience. Then I show the audience the ponytail on my puppet.

Stephanie and her ponytail

Also with younger kids, I include fingerplays and songs. Some of these involve the whole body. No matter the language, some of us are kinesthetic learners, taking information in through our bodies.

Primary school students in Mexico, 2009

The fact that I understand a lot of Spanish helps with groups where that is the predominant language--for example, if kids say "Una bruja!" when they see my puppet Trixie I then can say in English, "Yes, she looks like a witch but she's not one, she's just very old. She's one hundred and eleven years old."

With older kids, I often explain an unusual word or two before I begin. For example, I tell the Bluebeard variant "Mr. Fox" to older kids. Within that story, there's a refrain that includes the word "bold." Most students don't know that this means courageous, so I tell them in advance. If I don't, I risk losing their attention--they'll stop listening to try to puzzle out that word.

After a story for older audiences (age 10 and up), I pause for about ten seconds so the students can explain to each other the parts they were unclear on within the stories. I'll also answer specific questions about the stories.

At the end of the session, as I like to do with audiences who are native English speakers, I invite the students older than about age 8 to ask questions about stories, storytelling, puppets or about me.

My goal is to provide a language-rich, story-rich, laughter-rich experience to extend the students' knowledge of English. Oh, and there's that other goal, the one I have for every performance, residency or workshop: that we all have fun.

Stories with the dulcimer

Last week, I did something new: I used my mountain dulcimer in performances with preschoolers. I've had this beautiful instrument for about twenty years, a present from a friend who used it as a wall decoration. I've played it occasionally for my own entertainment. I don't pretend to play terribly well, but I can pick out a tune if I hear it in my head, in the way I play harmonica and various recorders and folk flutes.

But use it in performance? Nah. Then I was asked to do a series of shows in conjunction with performances by Chiara String Quartet for the Lied Center of Kansas' program, Performing Arts 3 to 5. The quartet played for the children and collectively told a story. My goal in following them was to underscore what they did and extend it with stories, music and puppets.

First I asked the children what they remembered from their field trip. They went to the Lied Center and sat on the stage, not swallowed up by the theater seats, for the show. Most of them remembered that they'd seen violins and a cello (a jello, some said). Some remembered the viola. Some proudly announced that it was a quartet.

I told them I'd brought a stringed instrument, but it wasn't a cello or a violin or a viola. I brought it out of its box and showed them the similarities to those classical instruments. I showed them the pick and the noter (a little stick used to press the strings down next to the fret).

Then I told a story about a boy with a violin. I played songs in the story and the kids called out what I was playing: "Mary had a little lamb," "The itsy bitsy spider," etc.

The next part was magic. I carried the dulcimer to the children and let them strum it, one at a time. The kids were amazingly patient and quiet, waiting their turn, even with the big groups of 40 kids. Gentle, too, in the main.

I put the dulcimer away and moved on to more songs and another story, with help from my puppets.

I visited thirteen groups at five preschools last week. This week I have eight more of these sessions. It's a treat to try something new--a treat for me as much as it is for the children. We all have a good time.

Oh, speaking of puppets, don't you think the inside of the case looks like Elmo?!

Telling stories on Skype

Remember how wild the idea of a videophone was thirty years ago? We're there! I've been using Skype, the video calling program, for a few years. This afternoon I coached another storyteller by Skype. It worked pretty well. A couple of years ago I gave a puppet workshop by Skype. It was okay, not great. There was a time lag and I couldn't see the kids very well. 

A friend suggested this morning that I could tell stories individually over Skype as a way to connect with kids who might only have listened to my stories on CD or on my website. We're going to try it out with her nephew and niece, who have all three of my CDs and want more. 

I don't think I'll tell stories by Skype from my office, where the walls are blood-red. It's okay for coaching, where I'm not the focus, but for storytelling, it's a little startling.

The wall paint is enamel, so it reflects the overhead light. 

For Skypetelling, I'd have to pay attention to what I'm wearing--no pajamas, for example. I'd need to check what's in the background. Too much clutter can be distracting. I might suggest to the cat that he go outside, so he's not a distraction. Or he could be part of the show?

And what if the quality of the Skype call is bad? I've had to hang up and try again with Skype calls. 

Any opinions on this idea?

Announcing Master Classes

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for a word from our sponsor...

Storytelling Master Classes*

Ready to move to the next level in your storytelling? In this series of three classes, experienced storytellers will consider aspects of storytelling from the theoretical to the practical. We’ll work on presence, pacing, body language, voices, crafting of language, rhythm, the deeper meaning of the stories we tell and more. These classes are hands-on, so bring a story to work on, please. 

February 18, 2012
9:30-3:30
Beyond plot: discovering the backstory
One of the keys to strong telling lies in knowing the backstory, the unspoken history of characters and setting, as well as knowing our underlying motivations. We’ll also discuss—and practice—unusual ways to work on our stories.

March 24, 2012
9:30-3:30
Making it real: characterization, voice, rhythm and tone
Telling a story is so much more than just the words you say. We’ll push beyond the language, using various exercises to breathe new life into our stories.

April 21, 2012
9:30-3:30 
Pulling it all together: telling your very best
Drawing on what we’ve done so far, we’ll add presentation skills to the mix. You must have attended at least one of the earlier sessions to come to this one.

Who: Participants must have at least 3 years of storytelling experience.
Where: Priscilla's Yellow House (e-mail for directions) in Kansas City, KS
This is in the Strawberry Hill neighborhood, so be warned—there are 12 steps up to the house. Also, Priscilla has a cat. If you’re allergic, act accordingly. In nice weather, the cat is usually outside.
How much: $85 for each session, $210 for all three.

A simple lunch of homemade soup will be provided, or participants may go out to eat. Drinks and snacks will be provided. This class is limited to a maximum of ten participants, minimum of six.

Email Priscilla for more info and to register.

*It's called a Master Class merely to indicate that it is for experienced storytellers. Classes for beginners and classes on using puppets will be forthcoming.

~

By the way, did you notice the newsletter signup in the sidebar on the right? I haven't yet written one, but it's on its way, my friends, on its way.

The other way I get the audience's attention

So silly of me. I thought about that last post, wrote it carefully, reread it, edited, posted and shared on various social networks, completely forgetting the MAIN way I get the audience's attention. Thanks to Margaret Meyers for pointing it out! 

When I'm working with kids under age 10 and with family groups, I use puppets to get the audience's attention. In the beginning of the show, often after pied pipering with my harmonica, I say, "I brought a friend with me today, in my bag. I usually travel with my friends in a bag. Don't you? You know, you say to your friend, "Hey, jump in this bag and I'll take you down to the library.' Right?" I reach in the puppet bag for Trixie. 

Then Trixie and I have a little chat. I ask her if she remembers why we're here. Sometimes she does, and sometimes she thinks we're here for the big basketball game. Kids love correcting a puppet who is wrong. I remind Trix that we're here for stories and ask what she recommends. 

Frequently, kids say Trixie is a witch. She does look like one, and I always acknowledge this when a child says it, but she's not. She's afraid of witches. Trixie is just old. She's 111 (hasn't aged a day since I picked her up in1994). She likes to rest during the stories, so she sits quietly next to me on the chair while I tell.

Trixie and the other puppets draw the attention of the audience and help me manage the energy in the room. If it's too wild, a quiet puppet will come out of the bag to calm everybody down. If it's subdued, one of the puppets will bring up the laughter. If a child is afraid of Trixie (her eyes can be extremely piercing), she does something silly like chew on her foot, or she'll get shy. Sometimes she goes back in the bag for a longer nap and another puppet comes out. 

Here's the 2-minute puppet lesson, for when you're visible to the audience and you don't happen to be a ventriloquist.

Getting the audience's attention

This morning I went out to take pictures of my freshly painted house. It's YELLOW. Definitely a house to get your attention. That led me to thinking about how I get the attention of listeners. 

I know storytellers who are in-your-face performers. They reach out to grab the listeners by the metaphorical collar, hauling them in to the story. As an introvert, I prefer a more subtle approach, inviting the audience gently into the world in my head. In the best instances, I'm physically and emotionally centered before I begin. I arrive at the venue early enough so nobody feels rushed or anxious. For libraries, this is about half an hour, for schools about twenty minutes. I set myself up in the physical space, with my water. I have a lozenge handy in case I get a tickle in my throat. I'm ready and anticipating a good show by the time the audience arrives.

How I get the attention depends on the group. With preschoolers and younger kids, I start by being Pied Piper, playing familiar tunes on my harmonica. With older kids and adults, I chat with those who come in first, as I gauge the energy in the room. No matter what I do, the goal is the same: I want the listeners on my side before I even begin a story. 

Often (but not always) I get introduced by a librarian, a teacher, an emcee. Then I begin. Of course I'm telling a story I love, one I expect the audience will also love. I take a breath and look at the audience. It's nice to give a silent blessing to the listeners at this moment. No need to rush. We all want to have a good time. Usually I begin with a word, one that promises so very much: "Once..." 

And I'm off. The story rolls out in its own time. I watch the audience as I tell, checking to see that they're with me, shifting cadence or emphasis as necessary. If they look puzzled or lost, I make split-second decisions on how to shift the story. One of the keys to keeping the audience attention is knowing the backstory, all the stuff I don't say about the characters and setting and action. Appropriate pauses build anticipation. This is where practice beforehand helps--recording a story will tell me if I've developed an unnatural rhythm or one that is too predictable or too much "story voice," an artificial tone that detracts from the telling (yup, I still fall into that, even after years of performing).

When I'm telling stories, I'm like a conductor. I bring the energy up and down as needed. I want to leave the audience calm and satisfied with the experience of having been in my world of story. 

Interview on SettleStories blog

Every interview is a little different. Here's the most recent, from http://settlestories.blogspot.com/2011/12/interviews-with-storytellers-priscilla.html

I promise, I'll have new pictures soon, to reflect my shorter hair and my glasses.

How to book a storyteller

A few years ago, I wrote a list of tips for public librarians who hire storytellers. For the most part, it works for other venues such as assemblies, Family Night events and festivals. 

First find a storyteller. Here are a few ways: Google "storyteller" and your state, search the directory at storyteller.net, contact your state arts commission (except in Kansas), or search the directory at the National Storytelling Network. Library systems, school assembly websites, and chambers of commerce are other places to look. Storytellers also advertise at booking conferences and showcases. Ask around--word of mouth is one of the best ways to find a storyteller, appropriately enough.

Not all storytellers tell stories to kids (it's certainly one of my specialties). Do a few minutes of research on the storyteller's website to understand their scope.

Call or e-mail the storyteller. Most performers will try to get back to you quickly. (By the way, if you e-mail me and I don't get back to you, use the contact form on my website. Sometimes e-mails go into the black hole and never get to me.)

Here are some specific questions to ask the performer, depending on your situation:

• Are you available on X date, at X time? If not (and if the date is fixed), can you recommend another storyteller?
• What is your fee? Does this include mileage and expenses?
• Are you comfortable working with X (ESL students, preschoolers, k-6, high schoolers, etc.)? 
• Do you have a limit on the number of listeners?
• Do you need a microphone?
• Can you work outdoors if need be?
• Do you need any special set up? Do you need a table? How much space do you need?
• What is the name we need to put on the check?
• Do you have a standard contract, or would you prefer that we send a letter of confirmation?
• Could you send a short blurb of your show, a bio and a .jpeg for publicity? (for libraries)
• Do you have a study guide for teachers? (for schools)
• Do you have a short introduction you’d like us to use?

Tell the performer about the venue. Will the performance be in the gym or cafeteria, in an auditorium, in the library? Will the listeners be on the floor, on chairs, at tables? 

Discuss the age range of the audience and the number of listeners expected. I know, public libraries often don' t know how big the audience will be.

As you discuss the fee, ask about block booking. For example, I give a lower price when I can book more than one performance or at multiple schools or libraries in the same day. 

Tell the performer the policy on payment (on the date of performances, within a month after performances, in advance, etc.). If you need the performer’s social security number or tax id number, or if you need them to fill out a W-9 form, ask for it at the time of the contract. Some performers ask for a deposit on booking. 

Discuss contingencies for bad weather and cancellation.

Many performers have recordings or books and welcome the chance to sell them after the show. If there is a policy against sales, be sure the performer knows. 

Verify the salient details on all contracts/letters of confirmation. Be sure the address of the venue is included (especially important if the venue is not the library), as well as a contact phone number for the day of the performance. Sign and return a copy of the contract.

A week before the performance, contact the storyteller to double-check details.

Ask the performer to arrive 20-30 minutes early. This saves you thinking you’ll have to come up with a program on the spur of the moment.

When the performer arrives, introduce yourself by name. Remember, you know who the performer is, but he or she may not know you. Have a bottle of water available for the storyteller and point out the location of the restrooms. 

Introduce the performer briefly. By doing this, you build enthusiasm for the performance and you have the opportunity to make any housekeeping announcements. 

At the end of the performance, lead the audience in thanking the performer. This lets everyone know the session is over.

If you and the rest of the audience enjoyed the performance, feel free to spread the storyteller's name around. We love referrals!

 

A little more on writing

Last week I was in Salina, KS for three days in the schools. On Thursday, I had four sessions. The first was with three fifth-grade classes (9-10 year olds). Then I went into each class separately to do a workshop on storytelling and writing, as I described a few posts ago. I remembered to take my camera. Here are a few pictures of the students writing about candy. That's the topic I almost always start with. 

While they write, the students are usually absolutely focused. If they get stuck, I remind them to keep writing. I may give a quiet prompt, "What's the worst candy you ever had?" or "Don't forget about candy at Halloween or Easter or Christmas."

Though this was only a three minute piece, they were able to get quite a lot down on paper.

Some of the kids read aloud afterwards. If we'd had more time, we would have been able to hear more of the writings.

One girl wrote a piece that personified the candy, moving past the first stage writings which are often like this: "I like candy. Candy is awesome. My favorite candy is...." It's not a bad stage, but I'm always interested to hear what happens when they move through it to something juicy.

My only regret in these workshops is that we could have used another hour or two. I like to give two topics at a time: "Write about armadillos and/or roller coasters." We expand to five- and ten-minute writings. With more time, we also have more time for other writing games. Even with this short amount of time (50 minutes for the storytelling session, 50 minutes for the workshop), the kids were jazzed about writing and would have happily have spent much more time exploring with pencil and paper.

Magic box story game

I guess I could pretend that I put that box of trinkets in the picture yesterday as a teaser. Here it is again.

The box is for a game I use with kids from about age 6 and up. It's called "Magic Box," and I have two versions. 

Magic Box Full

In this game, I put a variety of little toys in the box and have kids draw one out so we can tell a story about it. If we get stuck, we pull another toy out to move the story along. 

Magic Box Empty

There's nothing inside but my imagination. I open the box slowly, toward myself, so I'm the only one who can see what's inside. "Oh! I can't believe it! There are two chickens playing football in here!" I might say. Then I pass the box to the person next to me and ask what they see. We pass the box around the room until everyone has had a chance to say something. 

I prefer Magic Box Empty. I find that kids often will follow the pattern I set. If there are animals playing a sport, they continue with that idea. Sometimes I prompt for other details: "Really? Who's watching the game?" It's even more fun when they come up with something unusual. Once I played this with a group of second graders. The game was going along fairly predictably until one little girl looked in the box and said, "There's a big old tooth in here!" 

In the spirit of improvisation, I accepted this. "Really? Whose is it?"

"Yours."

"Mine! I didn't even realize I'd lost a tooth!" 

At a workshop in at St. Francis College, Sao Paulo, 2008

Sometimes there will be a literal-minded kid who says, "There's nothing in here." I suggest quietly that they pretend there is something. This may or may not work. It's important to be respectful of the student, not to make this into a big embarrassing deal. I may say, "That's okay, maybe you'll see something in there another time," or "Darn, it got invisible again.

Any little box works. You could decorate a shoebox or use a small recipe box. I like the one I have because it's in the shape of a book. I got it in Brazil in a hobby shop. 

Storytelling, storywriting

In my last post, so very long ago, I promised to write about the residency I did with 8th graders in Scott City. I'd rather write about the program I offer called "Storytelling, storywriting." I know I've written about this before, so this is mostly a reminder.

Sometimes other storytellers ask me how I can give workshop plans away like this. I remember what Eric Booth says in The Music Teaching Artist's Bible: 80% of what you teach is who you are. If somebody takes my workshop outline and puts it into practice, it will be completely different from what I do. Maybe better!

Stuff I use, sometimes, for "Storytelling, storywriting"

Back to the workshop. This is an adaptable program. I can do a 45-minute version, a 90-minute version, a  two-hour in one fell swoop version, or a multiple day version. It works best with grade 4 (age 9) and up, with kids who can read out loud fluently. I've done it in Mexico with kids from all over the country who study at English schools, in Salina, KS with fourth and fifth graders, at a Juvenile Detention Center.

In the best case scenario, I have a whole session of storytelling before we even get to the writing. That's what will happen next week in Salina when I work with fifth graders. I'll tell mostly stories I wrote, pointing out story structure and the way descriptions in the stories evoke the senses. We'll have time for questions about stories and storytelling. The kids usually feel comfortable with me by the end of the session. That's intentional. I need to connect with them for this to work.

In the second session, I read a story out loud. I like "The Big Stone," which can be found in The Guizer by Alan Garner. It's written in a slightly archaic style, and though I read with expression, the students glaze over. Then I tell it the way it is on my CD The ghost with the one black eye, to demonstrate the difference between a written and a told story.

I ask what they notice, reminding them that there is no way they can be wrong in what they say. We talk about the use of gestures, facial expressions, the voice and the body. We might do an exercise or two to underline this.

Then, using a different story, we work on backstory. I want them to understand that in order to tell a story well, I have to see it fully. I must be able to answer any question they might ask me about any character, setting, or bit of action in the story, spoken or unspoken. The color of the big sister's shoelaces in The ghost with the one black eye? Pink, absolutely. Is there a pet in that story? Yes, a big dog. (Note: if I get in a rut with a story, sometimes I change the picture in my head)

Then what? We move on to writing. I use an abridged version of Natalie Goldberg's list of rules for writing practice from her fabulous book Wild Mind. I insist that the kids write them down so these rules will go in their pencil hands to their brains. Then, using the rules, we write for three minutes on a topic I give them. As they write, the room is absolutely silent. Occasionally I prod them with a reminder to keep their hands moving, or I give a slight suggestion if they think they're really stuck. After the timer goes off, we read a few aloud.

Then we play a game I adapted from Gianni Rodari. It's like "Heads, Bodies and Legs," which I've just learned is also called "Le cadavre exquis," or "Exquisite corpse," but with writing. Here's how I described it in a post in 2008:

 It's a game where we write a story line by line, folding the page backwards after each line and then passing that paper to the next person. I prompt the kids for each line: "Who was it?", "Where was he/she?", "What did he/she do?" and so on until the story is done. After each line, the paper is passed to the next kid. They're not supposed to look at the previous lines, so when the paper is unfolded, it's a completely ridiculous story. Some of them make a strange kind of sense.

It's a great game to teach story structure. I also point out this even simpler story structure:

Somebody wanted...
But...
So...

If there's time, we extend the timed writings or the game, or we can add another game, either a storytelling game or a writing game. Even as I'm going out the door, the students often are asking if they can do this some more. They're having a blast writing and storytelling!

Did I ever mention how much I love what I do?

More travels in Kansas and Missouri

I've been happily busy this past month, traveling around Kansas and Missouri. I've been to Columbia, Stockton and El Dorado Springs, MO, as well as Topeka, Scott City, Burlingame, Altoona, Fredonia and Overland Park, KS. This has been an eclectic month. Since Oct. 1, I have

• told stories for the public, including a large group from a Montessori school, at a community center, 
• guest taught a community college class in public speaking for my friend Kareen King,
• visited a high school art class for a performance/workshop designed to get the kids to think about how to translate storytelling into visual images,
• worked with four groups of 8th graders for two days on storytelling, oral communications and writing,
• performed for elementary school assemblies,
• joined the Fine Arts Chorale of KC for another fun Halloween concert at the library (program: music, story, music, story, music, story, music, milk and cookies),
• told stories at public libraries for kids and a large group from a nursing home,
• told funny-scary stories at a Halloween celebration for families at a large corporation.

It has been a blast, as always, and has involved a lot of driving. Here is some of what I've seen:

Old School, literally.

I drove past Claflin on my way to Scott City (that's about a 7 hour drive from my house). I always think of storyteller Willy Claflin when I see this sign.

This is in Scott City, KS. I ate at the adjoining Mexican restaurant, where they had a lovely chile relleno. Not roadkill.

This abandoned limestone house is a typical sight on the plains of Kansas. The early settlers built these houses to last! 

I love the colors of Kansas in the fall. The red is a field of milo (sorghum). 

Here's milo close up.

Classic advertising on the walls in Fredonia, KS.

Last month I wrote about Gas, KS and said I regretted not getting a picture of the Bank of Gas. I passed Gas (pardon me)on my way to Altoona and Fredonia for this photo.

Next I'll write about the residency in Scott City with 8th graders.