Well, I think so! I am busy. Many people think they are passé, out of fashion, too violent, but they need to be told. And right now, I am telling a lot of them.
It’s that time of the year when I travel extensively around New Hampshire and Vermont, sharing stories with, for the most part, kids as part of the library’s summer reading program, and summer camps. Today is a rare day when I have no gigs. I have caught up on emails and other correspondence, and other chores about the house which needed doing, and I am now sitting down to write. For those of you who are new to my Substack - welcome and thanks for joining us. I am a traditional storyteller, who travels about the country telling folk and fairy tales to audiences of all sorts of ages. And I write! At this time of year, a lot of my work is at, as I said, summer camps and libraries.
Some kids at these gigs have been really young, others have been older, and there have been adults, on their own, attending some of my family shows, which is the best. It sometimes makes it tricky, trying to find stories that work for both grown-ups and littles, but for the most part one can make it work, and when you tell up, the youngsters follow along.
Yesterday I attended a venue I go to frequently - by that I mean once every other year, but have done so for a long time! With the heat being what it was, we had a smaller than usual attendance, but it was the quality of the people there that made the event wonderful. Mostly littles (around kindergarten and going into first grade, 4-6 year olds), a couple of older kids, and their care providers, and a handful of adults who showed up to listen. One child there, with a great name, reminded me of me when I was that age - bouncy and rambunctious. I wondered if there would be issues, if he might cause disruptions (I had, after all, picked up his name very quickly), but not so much. I engaged with him, his mother and grandmother helped, and he fell into the stories.
I have said this many times, but stories have a power all of their own. Between each story, M___ would roll about the floor, call out his favourite nonsensical phrase (I was reminded of Robin William’s Morc: Shazbot), but as each story began, he rolled onto his belly, put his elbows on the floor, rested his chin in his hands, and listened. Other kids sat on the floor, or on their parent’s or grandparent’s lap, or at their feet, equally enjoying the tales. As were the grown-ups and the most shy of the children there. (I saw you smile once or twice!)
At the beginning of the summer the kids are crazy, wired, on or about to be on VACATION, or at summer camp! By now the new routine has become settled for everyone - kids, parents, grandparents, counselors, and other caregivers. Now the younger kids are more settled, the counselors know the kids and what they need, family members have hit their stride and are having fun with their grand/children, and are a little less stressed and less tired.
Two of the organizers of this particular event complimented me at the end of the show, and asked if I had changed the way I tell my stories? It was a sort of rhetorical question: we were all rushing to get to the ‘next thing’, but it made me think.
I began telling stories to audiences back in 1997; I’ve been doing this for over a quarter of a century. When I was telling stories as a children’s librarian (feral and untrained, mind you), I remember having notes close by, just in case I forgot some of the story. I remember getting cottonmouth as I told the tales, I remember the excitement and adrenaline-rush each time I began telling a story. I was lucky, I had people nearby I could practice with, and on. I am no longer nervous telling stories, although I am nervous before a show especially if it is a larger crowd such as one might find at a festival or conference. This energy is great for the show when I channel it into the tales. Twenty five years ago I had more energy, I was younger, I bounced all over the stage (until Leeny Del Seamonds told me to “Stop that!”). I still sometimes take off across a performance space, but there’s a reason for it, I am no longer pacing the stage (something about still being bouncy and rambunctious).
Right before jumping up on that stage at Timpanogos to tell stories to 4,000 people watching and listening!
The stories. Have they changed?
Yes, I think they have. When I was getting my chops as a storyteller working as a children’s librarian, I had a group of kids who were wonderful in helping me craft the tales. Their brutal honesty made me a better storyteller, as they informed me of when I was boring, or when they didn’t understand something, and laughed when I was funny, and rolled their eyes when I wasn’t. Those Peabody kids are now adults and I owe a great deal to them, and they are dear to my heart. (We had a lot of fun with the stories, and Lego, and map making. There was never glitter though. I cannot stand glitter. It’s like sand and gets everywhere and shows up months later unexpectedly in a bag, or worse, in a freshly made sandwich. How? Why? Anyway.)
At first, most of the stories I told were for kids, some longer than others which were deeper and could be appreciated by adults, but then I went through a phase of finding stories for adults, well, teens and grown-ups and the younger stories sort of slipped by, added to once in a while. At the beginning of 2020 I joined a cohort of tellers, the TBD Storytellers, and we all learned a great many new tales, but when COVID hit, and everything moved on-line, I found quickly that people suddenly knew many of my tales everywhere I presented, because so many people were watching these on-line shows. In the past, you would move from town to town, State to State and tell the same stories and no one knew, but that all changed with on-line telling. It was hard to keep up, learning new stories. I have been adding even more tales over the last two years, listening to podcasts for clues of other tales, inspiration for where to look and find other stories. It’s been a lot of fun, and work.
I think, when I look at the storytelling albums I have recorded, although they are all folk and fairy tales, reworked, and retold, they are semi-autobiographical. I can tell you what was going on in my life when they were recorded. I feel that is still the case today. Where I am internally connects with and comes out through the tales. My stories reflect me and my environment, and the world around me, in that moment even. This is the thing about folk tales, they not only change in each telling, but they speak to us on a deep level. They resonate with the listener as well, we hope. As I read stories in collections, I place markers on those I like, that make the books, once back on the shelf, appear as if they have tufts of paper hair growing out of them. These are stories that struck me in some way that resonated. I go back to see if I still like them weeks, months, sometimes years later. If they do, I try to figure out why I like the tale, then I learn those stories, and they become part of my repertoire.
So yes, my stories, the ones I tell, change over time. They are not just where it’s at, but where I’m at. Are the new-old tales better than the older ones I’ve told? I don’t think so, they are just different. If someone says to me, that’s the best I’ve seen you perform, I take that as, the stories resonated with me more than other stories have resonated in the past. Well, that’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.
Performing at the National Storytelling Festival, Jonesborough, TN
If you haven’t read fairy or folk tales in a while, find a good collection and take a look. Maybe start with The Turnip Princess and Other Newly Discovered Fairy Tales, collected by Franz Xaver von Schonwerth, Penguin Classics (2015) a collection of stories which was put together in the 1800’s, but lost until between 2009 and 2012. It is translated into English by Maria Tatar. Or you could jump into Jack Zipes’ 1987 Complete Grimm, Royall Tyler’s Japanese Tales (1987), Speak Bird, Speak Again by Ibrahim Muhawi and Sharif Kanaana (1988), Haddawy’s The Arabian Nights (1990), Kathleen Ragan’s Outfoxing Fear (2006), or my own humble offering, Under the Oaken Bough (2018). Have a read and see what you like, what resonates with you, and wonder why. And see where it’s (or you are) at!
Peace,
Simon