TaleCatcher - Tracy Kenny's blog

Quick check in

Here's some stuff I've learned. It all sounds obvious. Some lessons we need to learn more than once.

1. Do little stuff.

I've been sweating so much over trying to get big stuff done, I've neglected the little stuff. Learning starts in the detail, and then applies on the big scale.

I learned this especially this summer, when someone I was working with let me down. If you are eager to DO and BE and INFLUENCE, but you won't get stuck into the detail, then you're going to lack the substance and the experience that qualify you as an expert, and validate your opinion. So just do something, for goodness sake.

After all, it's what you do that makes you what you are... but that's one of my storytelling theories, for another time. :-)

2. Use your own voice.

This is so basic for us lot that 'get it,' that as I write it, I get an image of someone banging their head on a wall.

I haven't been able to rise to what felt like the tone TaleCatcher had started carrying. It was taking itself all too seriously, and was too self-important. And I couldn't muster 'quality' all the time, when actually any communication is more reflective and authentic when it captures curiosity and speculation, as well as authority.

And short's good too.

3. Don't write.

I've read so much over the last few months that I forget where I got this advice - probably at Freelance Switch. If you're stuck for writing, make an outline, then don't write, for half an hour at a time. Just poke around on the keyboard about the subject, and actually, you'll find you've made a pretty good start on the subject - by not 'writing' it. The word is so laden with pressure to turn out something of quality that it puts people off.

4. Write

Just write it down. Get on with it. It doesn't have to be long. And if it isn't any good, well, well done for putting the effort in - now keep going, and learn to make it better.

Create yourself some boundaries, if you need to - for instance, start each paragraph with a letter to spell out a key word.  (I once got a piece written that I disagreed with by making the initial letters of each paragraph spell out THIS IS SH*T - which I went back and edited out, after I'd had a giggle with Adam.)

There is freedom within knowing that you've got a structure to support you.

5. Do what you love

I went to CastleFest in September, at Norwich Castle. I met a man who throws stones for a living - making slingshots, catapults, and all sorts of re-creations for medieveal demonstrations. I'll write about him separately. He's an inspiration. It may take a while for people to get it, but you'll be true to yourself, and people will be drawn to you for being authentic, and not what you think everyone wants to see and hear. (The world's got quite enough of same, thank you very much!)

So following all of of my learning above, I'm probably going to be making some changes. Not definitely - I'm still in the speculating place, but writing, to get it out.

For a start I think I'm going to come off Typepad. They charge for blogging, and I haven't been using this platform enough to warrant the cost. I'm now running Wordpress and Blogger accounts elsewhere, and actually I think I'll streamline, probably into a single page to draw all my work and home and everything together.

I'll keep the TaleCatcher word in it somewhere, so you can search for it.

Also I've got a little green and white site where I've been doing what I love, and which I've been polishing up for a while. Seth says 'Don't wait for it to be perfect, just ship it!' He's absolutely right, of course. Just give me a few more days...

You know I feel like I'm sounding a bit more like myself. I bet I'm not the only one who's releived. Phew!

Don't say anything

Last week we collected Adele's glasses. She's only 3 1/2. We'd not even noticed that she had a vision problem, and I suspected that the highly-distracted consultant at the hospital had given her the benefit of her experience (think 'Blink') rather than the focus of her attention on the day we were there. I was skeptical.

Then I looked through the lenses as I was cleaning them (the first of many hundreds of times. Small children have sticky fingers and poor aim when eating ice cream cones, spaghetti bolognese, etc.)

I say I looked through - I tried, but I couldn't see a thing. It was like looking into a cloudy soupy mess. She, meanwhile, sits quietly looking through them, occasionally commenting 'I can see a bird' or 'I can see a book,' fascinated by discovering a world she never knew was there. 

So I was wrong. I had no idea she'd not been seeing what we could. So grateful thanks to the process (and to the government for sticking with it) that booked her an appointment literally upon her birth to have her eyes examined 3 years later, based on the family history of wearing glasses.

It's thrown up lots of learning for me about service and empathy. I took her to the locally-owned opticians in our little town to get the glasses made, so it was a familiar environment and not the factory atmosphere of Specsavers. Now I got to Specsavers myself, but partly out of fascination, because they stay so busy, and yet despite the expectations my prejudices against big business set me up with, every single one of them seems happy and helpful and genuinely knowledgable. I'd love to get into their recruitment and training to see how they do it.

In our little town, we had the same lady looking after her every time, but their processes were really poor, and I ended up getting cross with them, which is disappointing when I'd actually been trying to  go somewhere where we could have a relationship. They also assumed we'd want the NHS free glasses, rather than paying a measlly £13 for prettier frames, and they never offered scratch-resistant or reduced glare. I'm used to buying glasses. They're not used to 3 year-olds, or they'd have tried to talk me into this.

But the best was at her nursery this morning. I'd prepared for the  rush of encouragement and compliments they'd have for her, but they are soooo switched on about  little kids.

They never said  a word. They asked her about the toy duck she'd brought, asked if she was already wearing sun cream, and if she wanted Weetabix or toast for breakfast.

I took their cue, gave her a hug and kiss, and left - a little wiser.

Through the week I saw a lot of examples of failing to anticipate the customer's need, but the nursery's silence moves empathy into the space of positive action - by saying and doing nothing. Adele wants to be the same as the other kids. She doesn't want attention called to her difference, even in the shape of praise.

And so through Adele's glasses, now I see something much  more clearly than I ever had before: acceptance is so much better than reassurance, and it gets us so close to what customers or audiences we communicate with need. It's just the right place to start.

Something to say

I've found a new favourite voice. I don't say favourite poet because I like him more than just for his poetry, and actually I'm only just starting to explore his works, but poking around his website I just like him.  (Also although I find I have blogged poems several times, it still feels a bit pretentious to be talking about poetry. When you drop the presumptions and just enjoy the words, they can be hugely powerful and great fun.) 

I love what he stands for, and I love the playfulness of the anagrams menu on his website - if you scroll over 'the link poems online', the words change to 'lonesome pin' - and I love that he is passionate about teaching and making people better. My kind of guy.

He says his poems are there to share, and that he's happy for people to perform them, as long as they give him credit. So I'm grateful to Ronnie Bruce for introducing me to Mali, but whilst the visuals were just stunning, the voice treatment didn't hit the mark for me.

If you don't like reading poetry, look at the video. Actually look at the video either way. And listen out for me using passages of this stuff in conversation, and in future blogs, because it is absolutely in the space of story: that is, be somebody, have something to say, use it to reach out to someone, and create something meaningful.

Enjoy. It's my pleasure to introduce you :-)

Totally like whatever, you know?

By Taylor Mali
www.taylormali.com

In case you hadn't noticed,
it has somehow become uncool
to sound like you know what you're talking about?
Or believe strongly in what you're saying?
Invisible question marks and parenthetical (you know?)'s
have been attaching themselves to the ends of our sentences?
Even when those sentences aren't, like, questions? You know?

Declarative sentences - so-called
because they used to, like, DECLARE things to be true
as opposed to other things which were, like, not -
have been infected by a totally hip
and tragically cool interrogative tone? You know?
Like, don't think I'm uncool just because I've noticed this;
this is just like the word on the street, you know?
It's like what I've heard?
I have nothing personally invested in my own opinions, okay?
I'm just inviting you to join me in my uncertainty?

What has happened to our conviction?
Where are the limbs out on which we once walked?
Have they been, like, chopped down
with the rest of the rain forest?
Or do we have, like, nothing to say?
Has society become so, like, totally . . .
I mean absolutely . . . You know?
That we've just gotten to the point where it's just, like . . .
whatever!

And so actually our disarticulation . . . ness
is just a clever sort of . . . thing
to disguise the fact that we've become
the most aggressively inarticulate generation
to come along since . . .
you know, a long, long time ago!

I entreat you, I implore you, I exhort you,
I challenge you: To speak with conviction.
To say what you believe in a manner that bespeaks
the determination with which you believe it.
Because contrary to the wisdom of the bumper sticker,
it is not enough these days to simply QUESTION AUTHORITY.
You have to speak with it, too.

Anti-viral

My google reader is out of control. Instead of bringing me the internet in small chunks, it completely overwhelms me with what all is going on out there. Still, I'm a possibility junkie, and a 'collector' in Strengths Finder terms (they call it 'input'), and I love having all those articles there just waiting for me to discover them.

Yet most of them continue to wait.

One I try to catch up with though is the blog from The Storytellers. It's this type of company that makes me wish - a very rare occurance - that London wasn't so far away from Norfolk.

Yesterday Jackie Tolland of the Storytellers blogged about Geert Hofstede’s research into cultural differences in the workplace. She captured that traditionally-designed global communications will always struggle to design the right response, because peoples' cultural differences will always drive distinctive corporate expectations and responses.

That all makes sense. Malcolm Gladwell covered some of the same ground in Blink, in his harrowing description of cultural differences in conversations between pilots and air traffic controllers.

What I liked about Jackie's observation was that the right single story of  a corporate communciation can be re-told in a multitude of ways, to fit the individual circumstances and audience.

For me this is about getting the individual to re-tell the story to suit the circumstances they share with their audience, but it's also about investing in a local storyteller who already has a relationship with them. To get someone who understands the listeners shows an understanding and respect from the top, right from the start, and it removes the 'Who's he?' barriers that might stand in the way for an audience. 

It also suggests that the global company understands the personal touch.

I think I've seen something like this before... it's rather like a big company structuring their communciations so that they go to the ranks via peoples' line manager.

The challenge with that is making sure that the line managers understand and buy into the story, enough that they can share their personal journey of coming round to it. And like any vehicle of mass communication, it requires investment - this time of the human kind, to make sure it will accurately and effectively deliver the right message.

In my observed experience it's usually easier just to send an email or film a DVD message. What a wasted opportunity to build  relationships and confidence in the message, for everyone.

Simple story

I've been helping someone with his CV today. He warned me that he didn't want any of that storytelling stuff in it, that he'd read up on it and it's all more theory than accepted practice.

We've worked through several versions, over email and over several hours. I think he's as pleased as I am with it. But I haven't pointed out to him that what we've done is build in a clear story.

I maintain my position: a story is when Somebody Does Something and it Means Something.

That's all.

We spent some time on the 'Somebody' - he was selling himself short. He wasn't showing off his achievements, and he wasn't really clear on what he's all about.

Of course a great deal of what  you're 'about' is made up of what you 'do'. So we looked at the actions and achievements, figured out that they made him a certain type of person, and tweaked it to sort that persona. The actions and the person are in line, reinforcing and valdiating each other.

That's typical CV stuff.  The transformation is in the meaning. 'So what?' I asked (politely). 'What's the impact? Why did it matter?'

Bang, now there's lots of meaingful stories about his accomplishments, and one big story about a very caring, very efficient operations manager who's technologically savvy but does it all for the people he's working with.

It sounds like the preise for a novel. Or screenplay.

He won't let me put in the stories like about the widowed customer who cried because my friend helped him when learn to cook and use a washing machine (he thought his oven was broken when he actually was trying to bake it on GM2),but his story comes through all the same.

He can save that stuff for the interview. That's when stories will get centre-stage. 

Ways of getting what I want

Years ago when I was doing my MA, my friend De'Lara was working for a quite brilliant professor - whose intelligence of course left her a bit out of the loop around new technology.

I was reminded of the story when I was walking around Norwich Cathedral with my brother last week, admiring the typesetting machine which the Jarrold company had donated to their education hall. It had only two sets of type, all the letters held in a huge wooden tray with a key for finding the right ones quickly. It wasn't based on QWERTY!

Anyway back to the future, in this case the late 1990's. De'Lara had done some word processing for Prof M in some font or other, but it wasn't what the esteemed woman had in mind. She was kind but firm, insisting that my friend re-type the entire thing in the preferred font. My friend tried to interrupt and say that it was no problem, she could change it in a few key strokes. Eventually, rather than let the situation develop into a full argument, she backed down and told the boss she'd see her in a few hours with the document in the new font.

What lessons do I take out of this for today?

• Shut up and listen, I might learn something
• There are usually easier ways of doing things
• Think more about what I really want, than getting stuck on how I want to get there

Bean counting

Have you seen this before? It's a bit old, but the point remains.

There is a human amongst the beans.When we think they all look alike, it's easy to miss out the individual.

 

 

 

 

Giving from ourselves

A few weeks back I was intrigued to find in Seth's triiibe (a closed community for those who read and try to demonstrate the principles in his books) a discussion of generosity, and how unselfish giving seems to always bring returns to the giver, but not in reciprocal or repayment ways. The poster, Christina Ciani, suggested that it's about a change in the individual. I posted this reply. The story as well as the learning have stuck in my mind, and I thought it worth repeating here:

I've been trying to pin down how it (generosity) works for months, hoping to write on the topic, and there just isn't a formula. I think you've pinned it down, that the giving is about changing a place in ourselves, which then helps us to achieve more. Sometimes the results of the giving come back to help us, but really the best benefit is becoming better as individuals.

My favourite story on the topic is last autumn I was grumpy one afternoon and had chosen to focus that energy into cleaning house. I was on the rampage, I was getting stuff done, and it felt... well it didn't feel good, it just felt like I was getting stuff done.

My two young daughters, 2 and 6 at the time, were in the garden, pestering me to come and play with them. I got fed up with the sound of my own 'no, no, no,' and I did.

I chased them. We ran in circles, we fell over and tickled in the grass, and we had a marvellous time. I wasn't grumpy anymore...

Not even when I did my last chase around the shed and broke my toe on the flower bed. The two little ones supported me back to the house, caring for me, but even in my pain I was laughing. The lesson to give especially when I don't want to had got through, because it's then that I need to be pushed back into a generous space, so I can see the beautiful day and benefit from the wonders of the connections there to be made.

Even

I've learned something today. I can't tell the stories to go with it, I'm afraid, but I feel I need to capture the learning.

It started several weeks ago. I was feeling a bit neglected. People were asking a lot of me, but not really noticing me. These are people who I know care about me, but they were very busy checking in and getting things done. Over a quiet coffee that afternoon I reflected on it, and realised that they assume I'm okay. If they thought I wasn't, they'd have stopped in their tracks and listened.

So that's one lesson: maybe it's not such a good idea to put on a brave face, because people might believe it. It deprives us of the opportunity to be honest together and grow together.

Today that lesson expanded for me. I learned that three people I have been critical of have serious problems of their own. I realised that I respond generously and with compassion when I know there is weakness, but if I think the person's okay, I have higher expectations... and then I criticise when they fall short.

Does this mean I am trying to knock them down?

The lesson for me: Assume everyone has a good reason for behaving the way they do. And if they seem completely okay, then care still, in case there is a problem they are hiding, just waiting for someone to give them time to bring it out.

There is another part to this: having problems doesn't relieve people of accountability for their behaviour. Being their friend means holding onto the friendship, yet expecting them to live up to responsibilities and face their problems, because I am their friend and I want to see them grow. This is much harder than just criticising, and much better for all of us.

I am okay, by the way: I am learning, and that always makes me happy. And things are happening, and going well, too.

Cool, collected, and wise

In our house we're really enjoying the poem 'The adventures of Isabel' by Ogden Nash. It's a great example of how poetry isn't alienating, a lot of the time it's just well-chosen words that tell a great story.

I've spent a few days trying to figure out the adult appeal of this one - why I enjoy it as much as the girls do. It's not  necessarily about strength, because as you'll read Isabel is not strong, she's just an ordinary girl making it through the 'threats' a child imagines.

And a lot of what holds us back are perceived threats as well. I'm wrestling with a few of those myself.

For me it's a great reminder about having the confidence of one's convictions, about understanding when threats are actually not as big as we imagine they are, and about knowing when actually the threatening thing might just be good for us.

Enjoy!

The adventures of Isabel

Isabel met an enormous bear,
Isabel, Isabel, didn't care;
The bear was hungry, the bear was ravenous,
The bear's big mouth was cruel and cavernous.
The bear said, Isabel, glad to meet you,
How do, Isabel, now I'll eat you!
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry.
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She washed her hands and she straightened her hair up,
Then Isabel quietly ate the bear up.

Once in a night as black as pitch
Isabel met a wicked old witch.
the witch's face was cross and wrinkled,
The witch's gums with teeth were sprinkled.
Ho, ho, Isabel! the old witch crowed,
I'll turn you into an ugly toad!
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry,
She showed no rage and she showed no rancor,
But she turned the witch into milk and drank her.

Isabel met a hideous giant,
Isabel continued self reliant.
The giant was hairy, the giant was horrid,
He had one eye in the middle of his forhead.
Good morning, Isabel, the giant said,
I'll grind your bones to make my bread.
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She nibled the zwieback that she always fed off,
And when it was gone, she cut the giant's head off.

Isabel met a troublesome doctor,
He punched and he poked till he really shocked her.
The doctor's talk was of coughs and chills
And the doctor's satchel bulged with pills.
The doctor said unto Isabel,
Swallow this, it will make you well.
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She took those pills from the pill concocter,
And Isabel calmly cured the doctor.