Exploring Tales and the Art of Telling
While kids and adults all over find their noses stuck in picture books and novels during National Reading Month, my nose has been stuck in something different: a stageplay script.
I give you A Man for All Seasons.
Written by Robert Bolt and originally performed in 1960, A Man for All Seasons tells the story of Sir Thomas More, the English Lord Chancellor who stood up to King Henry VIII—and died for it. As the famous story goes, Henry wanted to divorce his first wife, Catherine of Spain, in order to marry another woman whom he felt convinced could bear him sons (little did he know that’s not how biology works). After breaking with the Church of Rome, Henry was quickly able to obtain his divorce and marry Anne Boelyn, making her the new queen and demanding that everyone acknowledge her as his rightful wife. Pretty much everyone did… except for Sir Thomas More. He stood by the church’s authority to declare marriages valid or invalid, thereby rejecting Henry’s self-proclaimed supremacy. After trying relentlessly to gain More’s approval, Henry finally had him executed.
The play was eventually made into a movie in 1966, starring Paul Scofield and Robert Shaw, although Scofield continued to play the role of Sir Thomas More on stage for years to come.
I actually grew up on the movie since it was my father’s favorite—although as a youngster, I could never understand why he loved it so much. It was just a bunch of people in fancy costumes talking, right?
Now, years after my dad’s passing, I stumbled across the play script in his basement. I opened it up and started reading. And now, years after those family movie nights, I can see why it was his favorite.
It’s about jealousy. It’s about insecurity. It’s about manipulation. It’s about power. It’s about fear. It’s about courage. It’s about betrayal. But most of all, it’s about conscience.
I find it noteworthy that the Martin Luther (the father of the Protestant Reformation) shared More’s level of conviction about conscience: “…to act against conscience is neither right nor safe.”
The ethical questions raised in this story are beautifully explored in Bolt’s script, and they are just as relevant today. As a writer, I especially relish the way the dialogue resembles a chess game. Every piece on the board is working to corner More, and you can only wonder how long the game can continue before someone falls. So if you are looking for a thought-provoking, historically based read to finish out National Reading Month, I highly recommend this one. You will not be disappointed. And if you can’t get to it this March… well, the title suggests it should do for any time of year. 😉
What have you been reading this March?
Do you ever read stageplays for fun?
How familiar are you with the story of Sir Thomas More? What are some historically based works that you think raise pertinent questions?

Dive into the Norse wilderness where a princess and a clan warrior find themselves in the same struggle for survival, against the forces of brutal captors, clan warfare, and untold fears.

Discover where this ambitious sock goes and why in this thrilling tale. Where will the perils Melvin meets outside the drawer take him?
How many of us have heard career advice that goes like this?
“Follow your passion and success will follow.”
“Just follow your heart.”
“Your passion will lead you where you need to be.”
“Pursue your dreams first.”
How nice that sounds… but what does it look like in real life?
Often this kind of chuck-everything-to-the-wind career advice leads people with otherwise stable situations to hastily sacrifice their current job and location in order to chase their dream. For many of us creative types, this means moving to L.A. or New York. It means trading a steady source of income for an audition slot. It means aborting whatever skills you were learning at your current job because you think you can make enough money off of a different set of skills—even if those skills aren’t exactly in demand.
“Follow your passion.”
How often does it work out as poetically as they make it sound? Well, there’s a reason we have the term “starving artist.” Not to say that success never happens this way, but those cases tend to be the exception. Although you wouldn’t know it based on how often you hear the mantra.
Newport first gives this mantra about passion a name: he calls it “the passion hypothesis.” The hypothesis, as he explains it, is the idea that unlocking your one true passion is the key to finding meaningful work. As soon as you identify what you’re passionate about, all you have to do is chase that dream—even if that means giving everything up in the meantime. Oh yeah, and you’ll be miserable until you acquire that dream job.
Here’s what Newport has to say about this idea:
“The passion hypothesis is not just wrong, it’s also dangerous. Telling someone to ‘follow their passion’ is not just an act of innocent optimism, but potentially the foundation for a career riddled with confusion and angst.”
So Good They Can’t Ignore You, p. 24
Even though I had subscribed to the passion hypothesis for many years, this statement resonated with me deeply.
How often do I question whether my current job is valuable? How often do I assume that every hour spent outside of my creative projects is an hour wasted? How often do I lament the fact that I’m not yet living my “dream?”
The fact is, believing your job satisfaction rides on your ability to achieve that one dream job that satisfies your one true passion is a recipe for frustration when either
While there’s so much more career advice in Newport’s book that I can’t go into now, the main takeaway I want to share with my fellow creators is this:
Rather than suddenly chucking my current position and “going for the gold,” I should learn as many relevant skills as possible from my current job—skills that can take me to the next stepping stone, and eventually toward my dream.
As much as I sometimes want to give everything else up and be a full-time freelance writer, that will not pay bills. What’s more, is it will deprive me of the kind of resume-worthy experiences that might someday impress a gatekeeper in my desired industry. As glamorous as it sounds, the expression “going for the gold” often means entering a competitive environment for which you are unprepared—because your inventory of skills is not yet thoroughly developed. Cal Newport does not suggest you forget about your existing passions and just stay complacent wherever you are now. Instead, he suggests that the best thing you can do to advance your passion is to invest in acquiring relevant skills wherever you are now—skills that will help get you closer to where you want to be. Then, when you strike out for something new, you have fine-tuned skills that will make you an asset to the folks you want to impress.
Think about it: in the world of networking, no one is just out looking to do free favors. Everyone wants something in return—especially gatekeepers. It logically follows that if you have a set of well-developed skills from one of your previous jobs, you have a chance to cash those skills in when you find someone in your field of interest who needs those skills. In other words, you should focus on becoming so good at something that no gatekeeper can ignore you.
I’ll use myself as an example:
Right now I work in marketing/communications.
Where I want to work is in the film industry—specifically as a screenwriter.
So my approach, following Newport’s advice, is to grow my communications skills to the point where someone in the film industry might actually have use for me. And that is exactly what I am working on.
In the meantime, I highly recommend that everyone looking for direction in their careers pick up a copy of So Good they Can’t Ignore You. I was blown away by how practical and relatable the material in this book was, and I’m sure you will be too.
What do you think?
Do you have one specific passion that you’re looking to fulfill in a dream job?
What is that dream job for you? What are you doing now to work towards it?
Plot arc and character arc—those are the two essential ingredients in any story. Without those two, you have something less than quality storytelling.
What I’ve noticed, though, is that not all characters see their own arc. Now there’s a difference between character development and a character arc, although you can’t have the second without the first. Character development, at the very least, is “the process of building a unique, three-dimensional character with depth, personality, and clear motivations.” This can include the changes the character undergoes, but it more strictly refers to the process of making the audience familiar with the character as he or she is.
If the audience gleans nothing else from the story, they will at least see how the events have impacted the lead character and altered him/her in some way.
That being said, every well-developed character resembles a real person. He or she has believable human thoughts, feelings, desires, fears, and motives. But here’s the catch: many people in the real world are not self-aware. I bet you can think of some.
Sometimes we do know when we’ve changed. Take for example:
Other times, though, changes can fly under our own radars:
No doubt some people are more perceptive than others too, which means that some of us would notice all of these changes in ourselves, whereas others would notice none of them. And no doubt some of these changes are more life-altering than others. In short, some of these give us more of a character arc than others.
Looking at classic stories, I see a mix. In The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Huck has moments of incredible self-awareness and revelation, but by the end he still sounds in many ways like the same old vagabond boy bent on his own idea of freedom. By the end of The Catcher in the Rye, Holden Caulfield’s encounters have undoubtedly deepened his perspective on life, but he keeps his flippant tone through the very last page.
This lack of self-awareness doesn’t mean a lack of character arc—if anything, I think it sorts out perceptive audience members from less perceptive ones, because the less perceptive ones will always take the main character at his word. A perceptive reader or viewer, however, can see things that the lead character may not see in himself, or things that he flat-out denies.
But do you think that the power of a character arc depends on the character’s awareness of it?
Do you think that a truly powerful story requires the character to recognize his own growth (or decline)?
As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Of course you have. We pitch ideas to other people all the time, whether we realize it or not. Whether you get what you want out of it is a whole separate question.
Authors know this as the “querying” process. You write up a compelling cover letter, a synopsis of your book, perhaps even a marketing plan, and you hope that whoever reads it will give you the time of day. And then you hit “send.”
I know the drill very well by now. So well that the adrenaline rush of hitting “send” has quite worn off. No doubt part of my calm is because of familiarity with the process—but another part of it has to do with the safe nature of written submissions. The agent, publisher, or general big-wig does not know how apprehensive I may feel. They cannot see my face. They cannot hear my voice or see the pre-submission jitters in me. There is no way for me to feel intimidated by my judge’s presence, because the judge is simply not present.
In the film-making world, screenwriters have to physically sit down across from the producer and unpack the story in a handful of minutes (at least they did before covid). A query letter accomplishes basically the same thing, but the difference is that your demeanor becomes part of the pitch itself. Your level of confidence in your own story will come through in the way you talk about the plot. Your understanding of your own story (or lack thereof) is suddenly laid bare.
I recently submitted a video pitch for a short film contest, which meant I had to record myself explaining the script in 60 seconds. Actually, it meant I first had to condense my story to one sentence (a.k.a. the logline) and use that sentence as the foundation for my synopsis. I found this a challenging and revealing exercise as a writer.
You don’t have to be a phenomenal public speaker in order to make a clear pitch—but you do have to be precise and concise.
This means you have to shave off the extra layers of flab that surround the muscle of your idea. In short, you have to tone your story up. Writing a one or two-page synopsis of a novel is hard work. Orally summing it up in a couple of minutes is even harder.
If you find you are comfortably able to summarize the main points of your 500-page novel in under sixty seconds, you are either really good at summarizing or you might want to do some manuscript trimming.
This doesn’t mean that every non-crucial part should be cut. Some elements, while not essential to the plot, add a depth and richness to the story’s development. But if you find that the nonessential elements are taking up more pages than the essential ones, you might want to rethink your page distribution.
Regardless, honing your ability to cut to the chase on your story is always a good idea. Just like everyone looking to advance their careers should have an elevator pitch prepared, I suggest that every writer who plans to publish practice boiling their stories down to a couple of minutes’ oral explanation. You may never have to present this pitch to a publisher, but at the very least it will give you a better understanding of your own creation—and it prepares you for selling your book later down the road!
Have you ever had to present an idea to a decision-maker? What helped prepare you for that moment?
Do you find it difficult to explain your creative ideas to other people? What do you find most challenging about it?
Basically, before moving forward, you need to know where you are now.
Taking a personal inventory is helpful for more than just skill development. Examining our minds and hearts is just as important as examining our habits—in fact, our habits express what goes on inside of us. But in terms of setting realistic goals for ourselves in a new year, it’s a good idea to step back and think about where we stand right now.
Many writers decide that this is going to be the year they complete their first book. Or publish their first book. Or market their existing books.
Many non-writers decide that this is going to be the year they get off social media. Or start an exercise routine. Or look for a new job.
Regardless of whether you fit under the writer or non-writer category, you probably have some skill you either want to develop or improve this year—or perhaps even something you simply want to do more consistently.
I’m in no position to advise you over which new skills you need or which existing ones need honing. Everyone’s life requires different things and presents different opportunities.
The way in which I saw this tested most was the intense amount of learning that went into publishing my first children’s book, The Misadventures of Melvin the Missing Sock. Aside from the grind of revision, storyboarding, and manuscript preparation, I also had to learn how to make this book available to the rest of the world. This meant digging into some more technical aspects of the modern-day author’s life. Not only are authors expected to write their books, but we have to create the marketing and distribution plans as well. For someone like me, who frankly loathes staring at a screen and wrangling technology, this was a real challenge. I also had to find the most cost-effective way of shipping my books, which took some number-crunching and out-of-the-box thinking. Did I enjoy the process? Not always. But having gone through it successfully has given me greater confidence in my ability to solve problems and untangle knots.
An author should always involve other people in their work, but there are several skills that are handy to have on your own. For instance, I have never been fantastic at bringing words to life through physical pictures. Translating images into words is my forte, not vice versa. This means that I relied heavily on others’ visual imaginations for the creation of the storyboard for my first children’s book. Thankfully, as I worked through the same process for Bertrand the Bashful Bumblebee, I found my mind’s eye keeping up with the words. Although I solicited the help of my spunky creative team, my own visual imagination was actively working much more this time around than it had with my first children’s book. A large part of that was no doubt influenced by a familiarity with my illustrator’s style, which helped me predict how she might work with the scenes in the story. But overall, I found the storyboarding process less stressful and more fun this time, as my creative skills flexed and grew.
The skill of focusing is severely underrated in our world. We pride ourselves on multi-tasking. We embrace the constant interruption of electronics or the newest train of thought that offers a distraction. I didn’t realize how detrimental this rhythm of life is until I noticed myself struggling to remember things that I used to never struggle with. My short-term memory and attention span has grown alarmingly brief, which causes all sorts of problems in productivity and creativity. Although focusing is not a new skill, I feel that I have had to re-learn it all over again. Putting my phone out of sight and listening to music without ads while writing has helped. So has limiting the number of times I check emails and other notifications each day. Still, it is an uphill battle, as I fear it is for many.
It’s hard to market effectively unless
a) you know what works (which requires research)
b) you have a plan
c) you do it consistently.
This is perhaps the facet of my writing career that needs the most work. If I could simply write my books, I feel I could focus much more and create much more. But alas, the burden (and opportunity) of the modern-day author is that promotion rests on his/her shoulders. I am learning, but the learning process has gone slowly. What with a full-time job and other obligations, I often let either my writing or my marketing fall by the wayside while I devote time to the other. It is an unfortunate trade-off that I don’t know how to avoid, but I trust that it will even out with time as my books gain traction and I gain experience in marketing them. One of my favorite bloggers, New Lune, has written a stellar article on the struggles of consistent marketing/writing, which I encourage you to read if any of this sounds familiar.
What are some new skills you have set out to develop this year?
What are some existing ones you need to sharpen?