Ch-ch-ch-changes! Zoom storytime shifting yet again

What a ride we’ve been on! In March 2020, I began offering Zoom storytime every weekday. In August 2021, I shifted to twice a week. Now that live storytelling work is picking up, I’m stopping the regular sessions and will do random pop-up storytimes on Zoom, with a week or so of notice.

I have loved these regular storytimes. At first I wasn’t sure it would work. How would I connect with the listeners? Would it flop immediately? Who would come? Was my equipment up to it?

Listeners have tuned in from Vermont, Argentina, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, California, New York, Israel, and Bulgaria, among other places. Some kids came once. Some came for a few months when they needed to feel connected to something outside of home. Some became my die-hard listeners. A few story-loving grownups attended.

I’ve watched kids become friends with each other, eat snacks, race around in the background, draw, paint, and listen. I’ve seen their loose teeth, costumes, favorite stuffies, and special toys. I’ve seen them laugh and laugh and laugh. I’ve watched them turn into avid story listeners. Parents have let me know that their kids retell my stories, tell their own, sing storytime songs, use funny voices and animate their stuffed animals like my puppets.

Often, after storytime, I sit at my desk and just laugh.

My own repertoire has grown immensely because of storytime and my Patreon bedtime story subscription.

The listeners have become my friends. I am deeply grateful for this time we have had together. Tomorrow is the last of the regular sessions and I am grieving.

BUT…it’s not over! One of my regulars, age 10, has decided he wants to take over the 4:30 time slot on Mondays and Wednesdays for his own storytime! If you’re interested in this, contact me and I’ll put you in touch.

The first of my pop-up Zoom storytimes will be on Sunday, October 9 at 4:30 p.m. CST (same as Chicago). Keep your eye on my website calendar for more!

Empathy and storytelling

This was on the wall at a school I visited just before the pandemic shut everything down in 2020.

I was listening to George Lakoff’s podcast Framelabs, when I heard him say, “Empathy is the heart of democracy.” His podcast partner asked how we bring more empathy into our world. Lakoff said, “We have to do it from a societal level.” My first thought was, “Hmmph. That’s no answer at all.”

My next thought was, “Oh…wait, that IS my job. We have to start with the children.” More and more, I feel compelled to tell stories that promote kindness, compassion and courage.

I was going to write here about the science of empathy, how stories act on the brain, all the stuff about cortisol and oxytocin, what researchers have discovered, etc.. All useful to google and read about, but I’d rather tell you why telling stories to build empathy seems of paramount importance to me right now.

I want to live in a world where people care about each other, where we look out for those who need help, where we don’t say, “well, those people should just pull themselves up by their bootstraps.” I want children to understand that helping others—and helping the earth—is not weakness but strength. I want my presence, my stories, and yes, my puppets, to say to children, “You matter. I see you. I care. We are in this together.”

So I tell a story about a kind mole who helps a lost sparrow. We sing “I love the mountains”. I tell a story about a girl who invites everybody to her birthday party.and another about a horse who goes looking for another horse to be his friend. I model kindness when my rainbow sloth puppet Hairy is scared to meet the children. I also build in places in stories where we all take a deep breath. We sing “Poor little bug on the wall” to let all our emotions out, including those that are deemed unacceptable. Sometimes I tell funny stories, so we can all laugh together. We stretch our emotional muscles.

Not every story or song I do is about kindness, but many are. I hope they stick.

Does this resonate with you? What are some of your favorite stories or songs that build empathy?

Telling folktales

“Once upon a time…” Those magic words take us out of this time into no-time, when animals might talk, when fish might grant wishes, when an old crone might help us on the side of the road, and when, at the end, we might, just might, live happily ever after.

I’m preparing to give a workshop on telling folktales, followed by a performance of little-known stories, for Northlands Storytelling Network on March 18, so this question has been on my mind:

Why do I love folktales?

Is it because I’ve always been a daydreamer, and these stories feel like daydreams? When I tell them, I am inviting the listeners into the world in my head. Hmm. That’s not quite it, because I feel that way with every story I tell, be it a folktale, a literary story or a personal tale (factual or not).

Is it because folktales give us a way to sidle up next to Big Ideas, so that we can think about them without being overwhelmed? Maybe. When I tell the Grimm tale Maid Maleen, I remember a time in my life when I felt trapped, though I really wasn’t, just as Maid Maleen and her servant were locked in a windowless tower for seven years, not realizing they could have gotten out.

Is it because folktales are, in the words of the inimitable storyteller Beth Horner, “Personal narratives of an entire culture”? Could be. And yet, while some folktales give us a window on specific cultures, some are so general they could be anywhere.

Is it because I can look for different versions of a given folktale and create my own, without fear of infringing copyright? That’s a piece of it.

Is it mere familiarity, since I grew up reading Grimm and Andersen and the Andrew Lang collections, and they are deep in my heart and in my soul? Possibly.

How about you? Do you love folktales? If so, why? If not, why not?

Clever, Kind, Tricky and Sly: A Bulgarian Folktale Sampler

It’s here! In my collection of Bulgarian folktales, Clever, Kind, Tricky, and Sly: A Bulgarian Folktale Sampler, you’ll find escapades of the tricky fox Kuma Lisa, tales of Clever Peter and Nasruddin Hodja, the Bulgarian version of Cinderella and many other stories! I give source notes and anecdotes about where I found the stories, many of which I collected while on a Fulbright in Bulgaria in 2015 (thank you, Fulbright Bulgaria, Institute of Ethnology and Folklore Studies with Ethnographic Museum, Albena Georgieva-Angelova, Tzveta Misheva-Aleksova, Hristo Neykov and so many others).

Now thanks to Parkhurst Brothers Publishers, you can find it in bookstores and online. While I favor ordering from local bookstores, you can get it at Bookshop.org (which supports independent businesses) and that other online emporium (you know, the one where you can find the Kindle version).

Want it signed? If you live in or around Lawrence, KS, I’ll happily sign your copy. If you live farther away, I’ll sign a bookplate sticker, which I’ll snail mail to you to put in the book. Just send me an email with your mailing address.

I have a favor to ask. If you read it and like it, would you leave a review? Thanks!

P.S. I don’t know who the guy is on the cover. I wasn’t in charge of that part of the book. I think he’s Russian.

Around the world and back on Zoom

My Zoom workspace

A year ago, in the waves of pandemic panic, I also felt curious. I’d been half-heartedly playing with online storytelling. “What if COVID-19 is my virtual storytelling bootcamp?” I wondered. On March 16, 2020, I began offering Zoom storytimes every weekday. Now a year later, I’m still doing it.

From my laptop in Lawrence, Kansas, I’ve reached listeners and workshop participants in Belgium, Bulgaria, Greece, Israel, India, Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, Argentina, Peru, Chile, Colombia, all over the US, and probably other places.

Here are a few of the questions I get asked about doing this:

Don’t you miss live performance? Yes, I do, but there is still connection with the listeners online, and sometimes an even more intimate feel to the performances.

Does it work? Surprisingly well. I was worried that it would be passive, too much like TV, but I’ve found ways to engage even young listeners. I speak directly to them, and ask them to join in on songs, chants, hand motions and other silliness, just as I do in live performance.

Don’t kids interrupt? No. Early on I learned to put everybody on mute without the possibility of unmuting unless I let them. This cuts down on the frantic arm waving followed by “My…my…my grandmother…has a cat.” In my every-weekday storytimes, kids get on at 1:45 for the 2 p.m. (CST) show. They can talk as much as they want then, and at 2 p.m. I say, “What time is it?” They say, “Mute time!”

Isn’t it distracting when kids are doing other things? I’m used to it. During Zoom sessions, I’ve had kids eating, jumping on trampolines, reading books, playing, drawing, painting, wrestling, picking their noses and more. They’re also listening. I know this, because they join in when I ask them to. Also, they come back. I have the same children every day, one of whom (hi, Gianna!) has missed only one day since she began last March.

Can you make a living at this? So far, I’m fine. Some of the storytime listeners tip me. Though I make a little plea for tips at the end of storytime, I don’t expect them—and I’m always appreciative. Schools, libraries, festivals and other organizations hire me (and they don’t have to pay mileage or lodging). I set up workshops and performances on Eventbrite, such as the Russian tales for grownups I did in February and the story games workshop I’ll be offering again in March and April. I set these up so folks in various time zones can attend. I’m also doing a once-monthly storytime for kids in distant-from-me-timezones.

The pandemic also pushed me to start a subscription service to bedtime stories for kids. For as little as $5/month, listeners have access to more than 50 audio stories (no screens at night, please) with a gentle talk-down at the end. I upload a new story every week.

Do you prerecord stories? No. While I know many storytellers do, I don’t plan to offer this at this point. On my website and YouTube channel, I do have lots of stories available to listen to and watch..

When the pandemic is over, will you keep doing online storytelling? Yes. As a self-supporting artist, I know the value of having many ways to make my living. This past year has reminded me to stay nimble, stay lively. I might taper off the every-weekday storytelling at some point. For now, I’ll keep going. Feel free to stop by the weekday storytimes. It’s not just for kids.

I also appreciate referrals, so if you know of a school or library or other organization that would like to have a storyteller on Zoom, I’d love it if you pass my name along.

Let me know if you have other questions!

Animal Tales for Summer Reading 2021

Holy cow, here we are in January, planning for June, July and August! Since we don’t know what will happen in this strange pandemic world, I’m offering online performances as well as live (if it feels safe for us all).

I’ll be doing The Best (And Worst) of Beasts for the Summer Reading Program theme, a fun mix of stories, puppets, songs and stretches about animals. Why do dogs chase cats? Why do cats eat mice? Should a chicken marry a cockroach? Quack, snort, oink and more!

Here’s a video that is included in the Kansas Library Performers Directory this year, to give you an idea of what I’m offering.

You’ll notice that I also mentioned the program Grimm for Grownups, listed by Humanities Kansas in the Speakers Bureau. Of course that program and any other on my program list page are certainly available.

Send me an email to book now!

Story games, songs, stretches and silliness

So there you are, with five minutes to spend and a few (or a lot) of antsy kids to spend them with. What do you do? Try a game, a song, a stretch or some kind of silliness. I’ve been collecting these gems for longer than I have been a storyteller.

One story game is the circular story A dark and stormy night. Here’s the version I grew up with:

It was a dark and stormy night.

A band of robbers was sitting around the campfire.

At length, one got up and said, “Chief, tell us a story.”

Chief got up, lit his pipe, and began,

“It was a dark and stormy night…”

We would tell this story in every way we could think of: angry, silly, like a baby, like a cow, like a chicken, in a French accent, like a chicken with a French accent, and so forth. Eventually all the grownups would leave the room. We still do it; now the in-laws leave.

Another game we played was called “Mailbag”. One person would start a story, and after a few sentences (or sometimes, maddeningly, much more), he or she would say, “mailbag!” as the cue for the next person to take over. The cue word could be anything—in the way of children, we never questioned why that was the one we used. Now sometimes I teach an expanded version of the game I call “Magic Box”, which includes trinkets as prompts.

Magic Box is a fun pass-around story game, with endless variations

I’m still adding to my repertoire of these fillers, some of which teach story structure along the way. I search scout websites, old books of children’s songs, and friends’ memories. I’ve just added the melodramatic song Señor Don Gato to my weekday storytimes, to good effect.

I also love teaching story games, songs and stretches. I’ve set up a couple of Zoom workshops in December, if you’d like to learn some of my favorites. Feel free to bring some to share, too!

Storytelling for parents and grandparents

I couldn’t resist putting up this picture of my mother, my grandmother and my aunt, taken around 1926.

Telling stories in your family can be deeply satisfying, something the children remember for their entire lives. Find a quiet time, get cozy and settle in for stories. Remember, it’s about strengthening our connections, our relationships. Here are some good times to tell stories:

• Bedtime, of course,

• On long car rides,

• While waiting in a doctor’s office,

• Around the campfire,

• And, especially for distant grandparents, on Zoom.

  
  Consider telling personal stories, folktales, made up stories, true tales from history and stories from books. Don’t forget about nursery rhymes, campfire stories, camp songs, riddles, knee-dandles and fingerplays. What were your favorite childhood stories? Try these out. If you don’t remember them, check out collections of folktales in the public library, in 398.2 in the Dewey decimal system.

If you make up stories to tell every night at bedtime, you might choose a main character who will be part of all the stories. Or use your own child as the main character. Remember that every story needs conflict, even if it’s only a mild one. Watch the children as you tell, to gauge what works and what doesn’t. It’s fun to pass a story back and forth, too. It’s never too early or too late to learn to tell stories.

Some children love hearing about when their parents or grandparents were little. It seems so unlikely to them! They especially like the stories of childhood naughtiness. You can also pass along valuable family history and culture this way. Family photos are good springboards for these stories.

Here are a few guidelines for telling stories to children, considering stages of child development:

Age 0-2: Children enjoy peekaboo, patty cake, nursery rhymes, fingerplays. Use rhyme and rhythm.
Age 2-3: Still use fingerplays, rhyme and rhythm, lots of repetition. Simple, simple stories, 5 minutes or less. When they’re done listening, they’re done.
Age 4-5: Starting to differentiate from others, to understand others’ feelings. Continue repetition, rhyme, rhythm. Go a little longer. Silliness works well. Tales about families.
Age 6-7: More aware of others, of emotions, getting an idea of morality. Better at predicting where the story goes.
Age 8-10: Able to figure out tricky stories, curious about other countries and the natural world. Now understand irony and sarcasm. May be less engaged by repetition.
Age 11-13: Go for the gore to begin with. Tell stories you would tell to adults (though not sexually explicit stories) to these kids. They can take it.

Here are a few good books to get you started:
Telling your own stories by Donald Davis. In this great little book, Davis’ story prompts draw out your personal stories.

The Parents’ Guide to Storytelling by Margaret Read MacDonald. Also look for other collections by this author-librarian-storyteller, such as Twenty Tellable Tales and The Storyteller's Start-up Book.

Awakening the Hidden Storyteller: How to Build a Storytelling Tradition in Your Family by Robin Moore.

The Grammar of Fantasy: an Introduction to the Art of Inventing Stories by Gianni Rodari, translated by Jack Zipes. This is a quirky, funny book, full of ideas on how to play with stories in unusual ways.

If you want to augment your own storytelling, I have a subscription service to bedtime stories on Patreon—feel free to check out the two free stories to hear how I tell a short story with a little winding-down chat. Grandparents can subscribe and then give the password to their children or grandchildren.

Questions or suggestions? Leave them in the comments!

Silly and soothing bedtime stories by subscription

Some kids go at full speed until, clonk, they keel over into sleep. Others take forever to fall into dreamland. That was me as a child. “Mom….I can’t sleep,” I’d call, four or five or six times. Sure, it might have been that I wanted to be downstairs with the older kids, not exiled to the dark bedroom, but it might have been that sleep just didn’t come easily to me. I was that kid with the dark circles under her eyes.

In thinking about that and about the stories I tell, I decided to offer silly and soothing bedtime stories on Patreon for kids from age 3 and up. As an example, here’s the post I made with The Gunniwolf, one of my favorite quieting-down stories.

Patreon is a platform mostly used for artists’ fans to support them financially, and for artists to offer a peek into their lives and other good stuff, the way my friend Laura Packer does. I’m using it more as a subscription (though of course I appreciate your support). You decide if you want to pay $5, $10 or $15 per month—every tier gets the same thing, bedtime stories, with a new story uploaded every Friday. I’m only offering audio, as I feel that none of us need more screens to watch before bed. I have already posted nine stories, two free for the public and the others available only to patrons.

Good night. Sleep well!

Become a Patron!

When kids Zoom

Zoom calls with children are not the same as with adults. I’ve been offering Zoom storytimes every weekday at 2 p.m. CDT (same as Chicago) now for more than six weeks. I’ll keep on, until we feel safe enough to go out in the world.

Here are some things that happen when kids Zoom:

• Join in even if they can’t be heard, either by having a grownup or older kid type in the chat box or by acting out their suggestions (“What animal was next?” “Oh, yes, a monkey!”)

• Laugh so hard they fall over

• Put their eyes, mouths or noses right up to the webcam

• Watch themselves picking their noses

• Jump, jump, jump

• Eat lunch or a snack

• Hit their siblings

• Bring their stuffed animals, puppets and toys to show everybody

• Draw or paint the stories

• Show off their favorite jammies

• Wave at their friends

I show up about 15 minutes early, and some listeners join me for a little chat and music before the stories. I usually play the harmonica, but my new cat has begun meowing at that, so I play the dulcimer or kalimba or bells. (The concertina is right out as far as Gussie is concerned.)

I’ve learned to put everybody on mute during the stories. I don’t allow kids to unmute themselves, as they can easily hijack storytime, but I do plenty of audience participation. I know most of the listeners’ names and speak directly to them (those of us from a certain generation will be reminded of Romper Room).

I don’t record the sessions. I like to be able to see everybody, even though they’re in small Zoom boxes, and recording would require me to be the only one visible on the page.

Most of the kids come every single day. Sometimes adults attend as well. Even if listeners didn’t know me before all this began, they know me now. They make requests for stories, songs and puppets. At the end of each storytime, I unmute everybody so we can say goodbye to each other. While I do tell everyone how to send me tips at the end of the call, and I’m thankful for this bit of income, I don’t mind if they don’t. That’s not the point of these storytimes.

We build community, one listener at a time.

Feel free to join us!

Dear N. did the outline of me for this portrait, being painted here by dear H.

Daily storytime, an anchor for my day

What a difference a few weeks makes. Last blog post, two and a half weeks ago, I floated the idea of doing online storytelling by request, as COVID-19 came closer. That day, we were still out and about, not in self-isolation. That evening, the library in Lawrence closed. Uh-oh.

Within days, I’d decided to offer storytime every weekday at 2 p.m. CDT (UTC -5, same as Chicago). Stories, songs, puppets, almost always beginning with a little name-that-tune on the harmonica. The more I do it, the more comfortable I am with this medium. I love having regular listeners. I take requests and also try new stories. I bring my regular puppets out, with a celebrity guest puppet daily. Today was Triso, a triceratops.

I have space for 100 participants. Come on over! https://zoom.us/j/874033582, Meeting ID: 874 033 582. One friend asked if I had a virtual tip jar—now I do, my Venmo account, priscilla-howe or my paypal account, priscilla@priscillahowe.com. That’s helpful in this time when all my work for the next two months (at least) is cancelled.

Here’s what the Zoom storytime looks like from the other side:

Some listeners bring their own puppets to the party, or their stuffed animals.

Some listeners bring their real animals.

I have several reasons for doing these storytimes. One is to offer something of value to families in this seriously strange time (I’ve been calling it the Current Weirdness). Another is to give myself an anchor for my day. I know where I’ll be every weekday at 2 p.m. Another reason is to teach myself how to do online storytelling, something I’vewanted to do for two years. And of course, the reason I do a lot of things in my life, to have some fun.

Join me?

Digital Decameron, or online storytelling for quarantine

In the 14th century, Giovanni Boccaccio wrote The Decameron, a frame story for tales told by a group of friends who left Florence to escape the Black Death. They entertained each other, in what must have been a tremendously boring period, telling stories. It feels as if we’re in a similar time with people in self-quarantine to avoid spreading or getting Coronavirus.

My grandmother’s copy of The Decameron, published in 1903.

In light of this, I’m offering online storytelling to inadvertent homeschoolers and generally folks who are shut in, via Zoom. Kids, adults, dogs, cats, whoever wants or needs a story, I’m in. I’ll do 20-30 minutes per session. If you feel like sending a small donation by Paypal, fine. If you don’t, no worries. It’s similar to my backyard storytelling, a way to hold a space in our community. This offer holds for as long as it seems like a good idea.

UPDATE: 2 p.m. Central Daylight Time (UTC-5) via Zoom, for the first 100 participants.

Telling stories to tinies

Telling “Mr. Wiggle and Mr. Waggle” for preschoolers a few years ago in Chile.

I love working with small children. I started out as a children’s librarian, with preschool storytime. I mixed books with storytelling with puppets with fingerplays with stretches with songs, served with dollops of laughter and silliness. That’s still what I do with tinies, more than thirty years on, though I rarely read books to kids.

If telling stories to very young audiences strikes terror into your heart, here are some ideas, in no particular order.

Above all, I hope you actually like young children. Liking them also means respecting them, not using a fakey-fakey sweet voice. They can spot insincerity a mile away. Kindness is key.

Meet them where they are. If I have a small group of young children, I get close, sitting rather than standing (I now take a chair, rather than sit on the floor).

If possible, perform in a space conducive to storytelling: quiet, without distractions. Last month in China I was in the middle of a performance for four-year-olds (in English) and realized my audience could see the children on the playground just outside our room. Too distracting! We closed the blinds.

Remember that people of all ages listen and learn in different ways: visually, aurally, kinesthetically. I build movement into my stories for the visual and kinesthetic learners, as well as songs and chants for the aural learners. Note about songs: pitch your voice high, as children’s vocal chords aren’t able to manage lower pitches.

Young children are just learning to listen. They may have a lot to say. Sometimes they just need acknowledgment and will be quiet after you give them a brief amount of attention. Sometimes you might need to ask them to tell you their news after the stories. I do not do Q&A with children under age 8, as it only leads to the kids saying, “Umm…ummm….my grandmother has a cat!” and then everybody has to say what their grandmother does or doesn’t have.

What works for a seven-year-old might not work at all with a two-year-old and vice versa. Here are some useful child development guidelines:

Age 0-2: Children enjoy peekaboo, patty cake, nursery rhymes, fingerplays. Use lots of rhyme and rhythm. Fifteen or twenty minutes is usually enough.

Age 2-3: Children still enjoy fingerplays, rhyme and rhythm, and plenty of of repetition. Use simple, simple stories, 5 minutes or less. When they’re done listening, they’re done. Try twenty to thirty minutes, but be prepared to stop earlier if the children are finished.

Age 4-5: Kids are starting to differentiate from others, to understand that others have feelings. Continue with repetition, rhyme, rhythm. Go a little longer. Silliness works well with these children. They like stories about families.. Thirty to forty-five minutes works with these kids.

Age 6-7: Children are much more aware of others, of their own emotions and those of their friends,. They are getting an idea of morality. They are also better at predicting where the story will go. I have no attention span problems with 45 minutes.

In between stories, you may need to pull the audience back together. Here’s a stretch I do that works well.

Most of all, have fun! It’s contagious!

Perspective and backstory

Every story is told from a particular perspective, from a specific point of view. When I’m working on stories, I find it helpful to shift that perspective, to stretch myself. I see the story from new angles, noticing aspects I didn’t earlier understand. I’ll tell myself the story from the point of view of a peripheral character or the dog. I don’t usually tell the story this way, but use it as an exercise to anchor the story firmly in my imagination.

I’ve been thinking about perspective since the flooding in May when I saw this blue heron. Normally, we only see these magnificent birds from below. I took this picture standing on the bridge looking from above. I had no idea they were this brilliant!

I love working on perspective and backstory, understanding aspects of story characters that I’ll never put in the told tale. What color does the big sister in The ghost with the one black eye have? Pink. Do listeners need to know this? No. If I told you every detail, you’d be bored long before the end of the story. It’s helpful to me in order to create characters that are fully formed in my imagination.

If I find myself losing interest in a story, I may change the image in my mind. I picture the family in The ghost as African-American. I’ll imagine the little girl in The Gunniwolf as Asian. Again, I don’t tell the audience how I’m seeing the story in my mind. They have their own pictures. Doing this freshens the story up.

When I teach kids about backstory, I tell them that I need to know everything about the story, that I should be able to answer any question they pose, without even thinking. Then they start slinging me questions!

And speaking of backstory, here’s the picture I took just before the one above.

Grimm for Grownups for Humanities Kansas

Last year I joined the Humanities Kansas Speakers Bureau, offering my program Grimm for grownups. It’s a different kind of program for me, involving more lecture and discussion, and as the title implies, it’s not for young kids. The organization subsidizes the performances so that far-flung communities will have access to interesting programs. Here’s what they say about what they do:

We believe that stories carry our culture and ideas change the world

Since our founding as an independent nonprofit in 1972, Humanities Kansas has pioneered programming, grants and partnerships that share stories to spark conversations — drawing people together and generating new ideas. These stories and ideas inspire each of us in Kansas to play a part in strengthening our communities and our democracy.

My program feels like a good fit. So far, I’ve enjoyed working with Humanities Kansas. Earlier this year I did the show in Goodland and Oakley, Kansas, for two very different audiences.

The backdrop to my storytelling at the Goodland Public LIbrary. In Lawrence I live a half block from the train tracks, so I felt right at home.

In Goodland, I had an evening performance for about twelve women. I told a mixture of Grimm tales, from the truly gruesome Juniper tree to the story Cat and mouse, which I also tell to children (though it has a bad end for the mouse), along with other tales. I talked about the Grimms themselves and why they collected stories, how they edited them, what was happening in the world at the time, and more. Discussion was lively, veering off into the art of storytelling in general. It was great fun!

In Oakley, the performance was in the afternoon. Along with the crowd of older folks, there was a group of high school students, mostly boys. These kids came a little early, so I told an extra story. It’s vitally important to engage kids immediately, or they’ll check out. Hmm, that goes for everybody, but adults are better at hiding boredom. At any rate, I told them a gruesome English folktale, Mr. Fox, a version of Bluebeard. During the program itself, I told a Grimm version of the same story, The fitcher’s bird, as well as the stories I told in Goodland.

As in Goodland, the Oakley audience listened intently. They had lots of comments and questions about the lecture material. Our discussion ranged widely, and included two of the students telling short scary stories. When we talked about storytelling, I mentioned The ghost with the one black eye, the story for children I’m best known for. One of the adults called out, “Tell it!” After checking with the teachers that I could keep the kids past the hour, I did. A student raised his hand and said, “My mom used to play us a cassette with that story.” He recognized my voice., too. I put that cassette out in 1996!

After the performance, the librarian served gingerbread and apple slices, shades of Hansel and Gretel, Snow White and The Juniper Tree! The whole experience was excellent.

I’m looking forward to presenting Grimm for growunups later this year in Coffeyville, Wichita and Dodge City, and I hope elsewhere. For more info on booking this program, check out the Humanities Kansas Speakers Bureau.

A Galaxy of Giggles for next summer

How do you get an astronaut baby to sleep?

You rocket!

Baby is getting ready for our show A Galaxy of Giggles for next year’s Summer Reading Programs, which has the theme A Universe of Stories. Baby even has a jetpack!

Photo by Heather Harlan, Oct. 2018

It’s true. A couple of months ago, on my way to the Missouri Library Association performers showcase, I found myself at a Build-a-Bear shop in the mall. There I found the perfect pink jetpack, exactly the right size for my baby puppet. I ran to the car and got her so she could try it on. It fit! The pink even matched her leggings.

This is part of my process for creating a summer reading program. I think about what I already have that would fit the theme, I do research for new material, and I keep my eyes out for accessories for my puppets. For months now, I’ve been gathering space-related stories, songs, fingerplays and puppet hilarity. I’ve got a special puppet for the show and am working on possible voices and miscellany.

I also name the show and write a blurb. I keep it general enough that I can add ideas, but close to the prescribed theme. Here’s next year’s show description:

A Galaxy of Giggles

Hop on board this story shuttle for an out-of-this-world mix of stories, songs, stretches, puppets and general silliness with storyteller Priscilla Howe. Warning: there may be aliens!

Have suggestions? Let me know in the comments or by e-mail!

"What are the differences between writing and oral storytelling?"

This was a question a participant in a storytelling workshop asked the other night. My answer then was nowhere near complete, just as what I write here also will miss some salient points. Here's what occurs to me now:

Oral storytelling 

• Is an older artform than written.
• Does not require that the listener be literate.
• Requires teller and listener to be in the same place (hmm, unless it's on a recording, which places it closer to written).
• Is not in set form. The storyteller may change the story depending on the audience, circumstances, time allotted, mood of the audience, mood of the storyteller, venue. 
• May be more concise--too much detail can bog the experience down.
• The storytelling/story listening experience is usually shorter. Of course there are exceptions for cultures in which epics may last over days, or with serial stories.
• Depends on nonverbal as well as verbal communication--facial expression and body language, volume, pacing, attitude, etc.
• May use repetition and mnemonics to help the audience remember people, places and action.

Written storytelling

• Requires literacy. Even with a read-aloud, somebody is reading it. 
• Is usually experienced by the reader without the writer being present. The writer is unaware of the reaction of the reader.
• Is in set form in each edition (with some exceptions for online experiences).
• Requires the writer to show attitude, emotion, etc. using words.
• Have a wider range of length, from flash fiction to multivolume sagas. 
• The reader may flip the pages back to remind herself of something that happened earlier. 

Of course, a good story is a good story. One artform is not better than the other. Oral storytelling can enhance writing and writing can enhance oral storytelling--I often write about the stories I tell, in order to understand them.

What did I miss? 

I learn by going where I have to go

I love the line from Theodore Roethke's poem, The waking: "I learn by going where I have to go." I often don't know where I'm going until I set out. In renovating my house, I froze in the face of the massive project. I couldn't do anything for days, despite friends and family offering to help me organize the project. Then my dear sister-in-law Kate suggested I just prime one room. Once I began, I saw that I could continue. I learned by going where I had to go. 

Starting is what moves me along. One coat of primer moved me to choose the final color, which pushed me in the direction of the trim, which led me to blinds and curtains, and so on. 

So it is with stories. I often need to start in order to know where I'm going. Like my house, stories are also never finished. I'm always shifting my telling to the audience or even to who I am at the moment. Sometimes starting out is, as Donald Davis recommends, just telling about the story. Sometimes it is a small piece of research that awakens my curiosity. 

With every new story, as with every house project, I learn to trust that whatever comes out will be fine. Or if it isn't, I can make a new plan, change the story, change the design, just keep creating as I go along.

Storytelling live-ish

Imagine this: students in five schools in different parts of the world listening to one storyteller (me) in their own classrooms, and asking the storyteller questions via chat. I'm in my studio (otherwise known as my dining room). The stories are tailored to the audience. The schools pay a fraction of the price of a regular storytelling performance, with none of the travel fees. They can use smartboards, projectors or individual screens. The teacher clicks a link and they're in the session. 

Over the last ten months, I've been testing live online storytelling events using the Zoom platform. From the comfort of home, I tell stories to listeners wherever in the world they are. Here's my setup:

The first try was a short puppet workshop for a group of teachers in Brazil. The next was a presentation for a middle school in Texas, with a goal of bringing kids into an existing storytelling troupe. Then I told stories to two homeschooling families (full disclosure, they were already fans). Today I had two middle schools, one in Florida and one in Tennessee. The school in Tennessee had me in multiple classrooms at once. (Thanks to Mariana, Sue, Melanie, Kelly, Tom, Elizabeth and all the other teachers for being my testers.)

Here are a few things I've learned in the guinea pig sessions

• Make sure the cat is outside before beginning. He is charming, but a distraction.
• Mute the audience during the stories, or there will be a lot of extraneous noise (chairs scraping, the intercom, etc.)
• Use a wired connection, not wireless, for the strongest possible signal.
• Put a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door.
• Don't use a lot of fast hand gestures. Movement on a screen can get blurred. 
• Dim the brightness of the laptop screen for less glare on eyeglasses.
• Plan for extra time for questions, since it requires using the chat window.

I still prefer telling stories in person, but this is a great way to get more stories and workshops out into the world.

I'm ready to go live, er, live-ish. Soon look for pricing on my website for full performances, workshops and "story snacks" (5-10 minute mini sessions).

Have questions? E-mail me or put a comment below. 

Advice on telling jump tales

When I tell stories to older kids, I often start with a jump tale. You know, the kind of story where there is a sudden bit that makes the listeners jump. Afterwards, the kids usually turn to each other to laugh and talk about the jump. In order to bring them back to a place where they can listen, I give advice on how to tell these stories. Here's a clip from a show at a school in Quito, Ecuador last month, thanks to videographer Sandro Rota.