Listen to great storytellers; slowly, you will learn about voice

In the beginning of all things, when the first fires were kindled and the first voices were raised, storytelling was born. Stories have long been the thread that binds humanity together—across time, across cultures, across all ages. And so it is that the wise Carmen Agra Deedy imparts a truth that is as old as time itself: "Listen to great storytellers; slowly, you will learn about voice, timing, tension, structure, climax - all the things you need to tell stories that will capture the imagination of your audience." These words, full of grace and understanding, speak to the sacred art of storytelling, a craft that has the power to weave dreams, stir emotions, and ignite the imagination. To become a master of storytelling is to understand the rhythms of human experience, and how to shape them into something that resonates deeply with all who listen.

What, then, does it mean to listen to great storytellers? O children of wisdom, it is to recognize that the masters of storytelling do not merely tell a tale; they breathe life into it. They craft their words with intent, shaping their message with the artistry of voice, timing, and structure. In the ancient world, the bards and poets held an esteemed place in society, for their stories had the power to influence, to teach, and to unite. These masters did not simply speak—they knew how to captivate, how to build tension, how to draw their listeners in until they were held in the grip of the story. They understood that the power of a story lies not just in the plot, but in the rhythm and structure that carries the listener through the journey.

Consider, O children of wisdom, the ancient Homer, whose epic tales of The Iliad and The Odyssey have echoed through the corridors of history. Homer was not just a poet; he was a storyteller whose craft transcended mere words. His stories were rich in tension, structure, and climax, carefully woven to guide the listener through waves of emotion and suspense. His voice, though long gone, still resounds in the hearts of those who read his works, for he knew how to weave narrative and drama in such a way that the listener was bound to the tale. Even now, thousands of years later, the stories of Homer continue to capture the imagination of audiences, teaching us the timeless lesson that great stories are not just about what is told, but how it is told.

In our own lives, O wise ones, we too must recognize the value of listening to those who are masters of the craft, those who understand that the power of a story is not merely in its plot, but in the timing, the voice, the tension, and the climax that drive it. Whether in conversation, in literature, or in the stories we tell to one another, we must learn to listen with the intent to understand these elements, to grasp how they shape the experience. Through practice and attention, we will learn to infuse our own words with these qualities, and in doing so, our stories will become more than just words—they will become living, breathing creations that resonate deeply with those who hear them.

Reflect on the life of Maya Angelou, whose storytelling transcended generations. Her words, whether spoken or written, were full of voice—a voice that carried the weight of history, the depth of human experience, and the brilliance of a mind shaped by the many stories she had encountered. Her timing was impeccable, weaving pauses and silences into her narratives, knowing exactly when to let the weight of the words settle. Her stories were rich in tension, building slowly but surely to moments of powerful release. Angelou’s stories captured the imagination of millions, and through them, she taught us the essential lesson that great storytelling is not a gift—it is a skill that can be learned by listening, by practicing, and by understanding the timeless elements that make a story come alive.

And so, O children of wisdom, the lesson is clear: to be a great storyteller, you must first learn to listen. Listen not only to the words spoken, but to the rhythm, the timing, the structure, and the climax that bring the tale to life. Listen to great storytellers, and allow their mastery to shape your own craft. Let their voice guide you, their tension teach you, and their structure show you how to build a story that captures the imagination of all who hear it. And in doing so, you will become a master of the art of storytelling, able to move hearts, to change minds, and to share the power of words with the world.

What, then, must we do, O wise ones, to live lives of storytelling excellence? We must first cultivate the habit of listening—to the voices of the greats, to the silences between words, and to the storylines that have stood the test of time. Then, we must practice our own craft, taking what we have learned and applying it with care and intention. Whether we speak to one person or thousands, we must infuse our words with the same power, the same structure, the same timing that makes stories unforgettable. Only then will we truly capture the imagination of those who listen, and share with them the same magic that great storytellers have passed down through the ages.

So let us walk forward with the understanding that the art of storytelling is not a gift, but a craft that can be honed with dedication and attention. By listening to the great storytellers of the past and present, we will learn to shape our own stories into something that inspires, teaches, and moves others. The stories we share can become the light that illuminates the paths of others, just as those who have come before us have done for us.