posted on January 27, 2012 11:21
What does it take to tell a story that matters? What makes a story compelling? This series will share some great storytelling and consider what makes them great.
Today's selections inspire laughter and tears.
Comedian Mike DeStefano shares a touching story of his last experience with his wife before her death.
And that guy was right. She just wanted to know that I still needed her, like I loved her, you know what I mean? [Dying] people, they feel “I’m alive.” They pass away at one moment. Until that moment, they are alive, and they want to be loved, and they want to give and share, you know.
Her last request is for a ride on his motorcycle, the encumbrances of her paper gown and IV pole be damned.
So the next thing you know we’re on I-95, because women, it’s never enough for them. We’re on I-95, and she unhooks the pole, and she’s holding the morphine bag over her head with her gown that’s flying up in the air so you could see her entire naked, bony body with the morphine bag whipping in the wind, and we’re passing by these guys in their Lamborghinis, and I’m looking at them like, What the hell kind of life are you living? Look at me, I’m on top of the world here.
DeStefano faces the frailty of his lover and best friend facing death ... and comes to the conclusion that what matters is loving her in the present moment.
David Ogilvy, of the famous Ogilvy & Mather advertising agency, shared the story of his copy writing process in a letter he wrote in 1955.
On March 22nd you wrote to me asking for some notes on my work habits as a copywriter. They are appalling, as you are about to see...
In addition to being hilarious (who knew the power of Handel?), most writers, if they are honest, will be able to see themselves in his comments:
I am terrified of producing a lousy advertisement. This causes me to throw away the first 20 attempts.
If the client changes the copy, I get angry—because I took a lot of trouble writing it, and what I wrote I wrote on purpose.
Ogilvy is incredibly successful at what he does ... and yet he presents himself as an everyman, just as stymied and troubled by the writing process as anyone else who hopes to turn a phrase.
What strikes you about these stories? What evokes an emotional response?